AllFreeNovel
Share Us
As a rule, Ryan believed a citizen should never talk to the authorities without a lawyer present. But, then, he was a lawyer. And he was present. He also believed that with or without counsel, a citizen should not volunteer any information to law enforcement. However, in about ten seconds, this man would realize he was not Chelsea Bishop, so he was just being efficient.
“Oh?”
Leilah handed him the registration card with a small shake of her head.
“Yes,” Ryan explained, as he passed it out the window to the police officer. “I borrowed it from a friend. My car’s in the shop.” Essentially true.
The flashlight arced back into the passenger compartment. “Are you Chelsea Bishop, ma’am?”
“No, officer.”
“And you’re driving the car with Miss Bishop’s permission?” he asked Ryan.
“Of course.”
“Hmm. I’m going to go run this. Make sure Miss Bishop hasn’t reported her car stolen and make sure you don’t have any outstanding warrants.” He tapped the driver’s license and the registration card against the palm of his hand. “You folks hang tight.”
Ryan flashed him a smile as he walked back to his cruiser.
“It’s going to be okay,” he assured Leilah under his breath, eyeing the two police officers still standing twenty yards ahead with their guns drawn.
He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror to see where the third police car was. The driver had pulled up alongside the cop who had pulled them over and sat, idling, on the berm. While he was focused on the officers behind him, Leilah reached over, threw the gearstick into Drive, and swung her left leg over the center console.
“What are you doing?” he yelled.
She wrested the wheel away from him and stomped down hard, accelerating while she shifted her butt onto the console.
“What does it look like?” she shouted back as the car careered into the other travel lane.
Once again, she was driving in the wrong direction. Only this time, a police car was blocking the road and two law enforcement officers were taking aim at them. She crawled into the seat and planted herself on his lap.
The speedometer passed sixty, then seventy, then eighty, and kept climbing. Leilah steered the vehicle toward the left shoulder, and, for the second time that day, Ryan squeezed his eyes shut and prayed.
15
Leilah went off-roadbriefly to cut through a pasture turned construction site, knocking over a sign for luxury bayside homes in the process, but she didn’t slow her speed. She trusted Chelsea’s vehicle to handle the bumps and ridges.
“This wouldnotbe easier in my Porsche,” she joked, happy for the first time that they’d left her distinctive sports car tucked away safely in the archive parking lot.
The police gave what was, in her estimation, a halfhearted chase before disappearing from the rearview. Once she was sure they’d fallen back, she lifted her bottom off Ryan’s thighs.
“Can you climb over?”
“I’d say I like it here, but I’m too furious to flirt with you,” he told her as he pushed his way out from under her and dumped himself in the passenger seat.
She snorted and hit the high beams. There was no reason to mar her flawless escape driving by falling into a hole dug for the foundation of a luxury home.
“Why didn’t they keep up the chase? Lazy.”
“You’re disappointed?”
A little.
“No, but it’s weird.”
“Mind telling me what that stunt was all about?” he demanded as he buckled his seatbelt.
She kept her eyes on the expansive field and fastened her own seatbelt one-handed before answering. “Who called the police?”
