Mateo threw it, and I watched in seeming slow motion as it sailed through the air. I reached for it, but just as I was about to catch it, Russo elbowed me hard in the stomach, sending me to my knees. He caught the gun with one hand and flipped it back toward me.
“Gotta learn to play dirty, kid,” Russo said as he stood above me, the barrel of the Glock pointed at my head. I had the windknocked out of me and couldn’t speak. I heard sirens in the distance and almost wept with relief. Oscar was on the way.
Russo yanked me up by my collar. “Time to go.”
He dragged me by Jude’s flannel shirt and pulled me to the back door. I tried to get a handle on his wrist, but he was too quick and he was pulling me to the Wagoneer again. Front seat this time. I tried to break free, but another elbow to the solar plexus and I was doubled over again. Couldn’t breathe. My mouth opened and closed with no sound, like one of Dad’s koi fish. Couldn’t get my limbs to work. He shoved me in the passenger’s side. He slipped behind the wheel and we were off, driving through the darkened streets of Lake Sanguis.
“I’m going… to… kill… you…” I managed, wheezing, as my lungs inflated again.
I glared at the camel leather steering wheel, trying to figure out how quickly I could crash this damn car. But Russo held the Glock pointed at me.
“You don’t have it in you, kid,” he said with a chuckle.
Air returned to my lungs. “So I guess that means I’m not your perfect woman after all,” I wheezed.
“You’re like a solid 9.2.”
I wondered what my 0.8 flaws were. But I didn’t ask.
Russo snuck a glance at me. “You already know you’re hot as hell. You’re hotter than your mom, and she was smokin’.”
Glad to know the serial killer wasn’t shallow or anything.
“I can’t have someone around me who doesn’t look good,” Russo declared as he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror. And then I remembered Jude’s criticism of him:the guy who keeps checking out his own reflection in every window he passes.
I glanced in my side mirror and right then saw the distant flicker of two headlights.Volvo headlights, I thought. Jude? Could it be?
“We also make a great team,” he said. “You and me, shoulder to shoulder.”
I snorted. “Hard to be a team when you’re punching me in the face.”
The headlights were gaining on us. If that was Jude, the guymightactually be speeding. Was he breaking one of his precious laws for me?
“Everybody needs a smack when they step out of line.”
I wanted to smack Russo right now.
“How are we going to get away? Oscar will be after you. You’ll be caught.”
“I’ve got a plan, kid,” he said as he steered the Wagoneer to the small two-lane highway. “Private plane to Canada. Tonight. Then to a non-extradition country. I’ve got papers. I’ve got it all.”
“Where’d you get the money?”
Russo shot me a sly glance. “Maybe I have sticky fingers. Maybe the city doesn’t need to get all the drug money we bust from the bad guys.”
“You stole evidence?” Why was I surprised?
“Borrowed,” Russo corrected. His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. “That better not be Brother’s Best Friend. I swear to God.”
Jude had gained on us. Russo hit the gas, but so did Jude. He was speeding! I was so proud of him. I kept my eye on the Glock.
“I’m going to make you kill that son of a bitch,” Russo said. The thick forest trees sped by on both sides of the road, the headlights stretched out beneath a starry sky.
“Won’t do it. Jude’s better than both of us.”
It was true. If one human on earth needed to live, it was Jude.
“He’s no better than anyone else in this town. This town that calls you Thin Ice because they don’t understand you. I do, kid.”
