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This was it.
“Be ready,” was all she said.
Their exit into New Orleans was coming up, and traffic was moving a little too slowly to guarantee success. She had to time her move so that Xavier’s minivan and the stolen BMW SUV could exit, but the Jeep carrying Mr. Eckert the hit man could not.
And not endanger anyone else on the road.
Easy peasy.
Which she was going to keep telling herself until it was over.
A glance in front of her showed a bridge looming just beyond the exit. The bridge was the reason that they’d chosen this specific exit.
A glance in her rearview showed no cops, at least none that were obvious. She worried about the cops. She trusted Burke’s old friend from NOPD, Captain André Holmes, but he couldn’t be everywhere during this op.
She hoped the officers he’d chosen were as trustworthy as he was, because this was going to be close.
“Now,” she said, pushing Gabe’s shoulder down as she floored her accelerator, forcing her way in front of the Jeep as the minivan and the SUV exited, then veered sharply onto the shoulder, braking so that she was even with the Jeep. She continued driving on the shoulder through the exit, keeping the Jeep from following.
The man in the Jeep stared at her, his jaw tight. Then his arm lifted and—
“Gun!” she shouted.
Gabe looked up from where he leaned over the console, her pistol in his hand. He’d handled it like a seasoned pro, deftly loading it and racking the slide. She wasn’t worried about his shooting skills.
She was worried that he’d have to shoot.
“Hold your fire,” she said quietly. “Too many people around us.”
“I know,” Gabe said. “But is he going to hold his fire?”
They’d passed the exit and the shoulder was ending, the bridge upcoming.
“Brace yourself!” Molly slammed on her brakes, stopping a few feet from where the bridge began. In the far-right lane, the Jeep was forced to continue or crash into the bridge’s railing.
“It’s done,” she said. “He’s headed over the bridge.”
Gabe quickly popped the magazine from her gun, stored the bullets in the glove box and the gun in the lockbox, which he then put back into the console.
He straightened in his seat, readjusting his seat belt. “Crisis averted. Nice driving.”
“A few more feet and we’d be soaking wet,” she muttered, looking at the river flowing below them, swollen and fast-moving due to a recent storm.
“Did the cops do their thing?”
She grabbed the binoculars she kept in the console, focusing on the end of the bridge. Then smiled as three unmarked police cars surrounded the Jeep, their flashers on. “See for yourself,” she said, handing him the binoculars.
“Well, something went right today,” he said after viewing what would hopefully be an arrest. “Is anyone going to stop us when we go over the bridge?”
“Burke said they wouldn’t, but if they do, don’t say a word. Both guns in the truck are registered to me and I have permits to carry, so we’ve broken no laws. Worst they can do is give me a citation for driving on the shoulder. If they ask to search, we ask for a warrant. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “So I’m going to say something and if it’s inappropriate, I’m claiming adrenaline rush.”
She chuckled, liking the feel of her hand in his. “Okay?”
“You were very hot, driving like that.”
She grinned, pleased. “I guess I was at that.”
