by Diane Capri
The news was still sinking in. She hadn’t told anyone she’d been to the jail yet. Of course, her detail would have reported her activities. And the cameras would have recorded the whole timeline. But it usually took a while to synchronize all that data.
How did Ryser find out so quickly?
The one and only mission she’d pursued for the last five years? Over? Just like that?
Her feelings were a jumbled mess. She had a thousand questions, but she couldn’t ask any of them just yet.
“Jordan? I’ve got one more thing I need to tell you. It’s important.” Ryser had turned in the seat to face Jordan.
“What is it? I’ve got to get back to the station.” She opened her eyes to look at Ryser. Her foot was throbbing and she was exhausted all of a sudden.
“We have techniques for listening to cell phone communications. Even burner phones. You probably know that.” Ryser rubbed her lips with her thumb and forefinger. “Some of those communications related to you.”
“Okay.” It seemed like in some way this was setting itself up as really bad news for her.
“We captured an exchange about the man El Pulpo calls the boss.” Ryser cleared her throat and shrugged. “Two men. Speaking Spanish. Talking quickly and very agitated.”
“Okay…. How bad is it?” The dryness in Jordan’s mouth now spread to the back of her throat.
“The boss is furious because the shrimp boats, the Medicine Factory, the drone operation, and the human trafficking operations were shut down.” Ryser stopped and took a deep breath. “His days as the leader of El Pulpo are numbered. The soldiers now see him as weakened. Stronger men will want to move up. To do that, they’ll need to get rid of him first.”
“So is that the worst news?” Jordan’s tongue felt thick in her mouth.
“We knew he was here, in Tampa. Which is why we were hoping to grab him when we raided The Grove Friday night.” Ryser looked across into Jordan’s eyes. “Your tweet worked. You wanted to draw El Pulpo out and that’s what you’ve done. The boss is cleaning house, tying up loose ends. That’s why he moved so quickly on Diaz and Groves. He wants you dead, too. His soldiers have failed to kill you. He says he’ll do it himself. He’s coming after you.”
The heavy air closed in on her, particles of moisture clinging to her skin. “They’re going to—He wants to kill me? Himself? You’re sure?”
“We’re arranging protection around the clock instead of just at night, like you have now.” Ryser’s words were rushed, as if she could sense that Jordan was on the verge of a meltdown. “We’ll get this guy, Jordan. We’re closing in. It won’t be long.”
Blood funneled from Jordan’s head, rushing straight to her heart. She swallowed and struggled to speak. “What’s his name? What does he look like?”
“His name is Alden Walker.” Ryser showed her a photo. “He’s been the El Pulpo boss about ten years. Before that, he was a U.S. Army Ranger. Which means he was trained as elite military. He knows what he’s doing.”
Jordan blanched. She memorized the photo. If she saw him, she wanted to recognize him right away.
He was younger than Jordan expected. About the same age as her dad. Handsome for a guy his age. He looked like a rugged sportsman or an advertisement for financial services. The kind of guy who would blend in or stand out, as he chose. Close cropped, light brown hair and full lips. His skin was tanned and white squint lines fanned from the corners of his brown eyes, like he’d spent a lot of time outside in the sunlight.
“How tall is he?”
“Official records put him at six feet, but he always wears boots. So figure a little taller,” Ryser said. “He’s very fit. Broad shoulders, flat stomach. Lean. No tattoos or piercings.”
Jordan’s voice squeaked when she said, “Got it.”
“I’d tell you to carry a gun, but you’re not licensed.” There was no hint of humor in Ryser’s tone. “If you see him, Jordan, run like hell and call me immediately.”
“I have to warn my dad.” Jordan opened the passenger door and tried to walk back toward the network news van, where she seemed to recall she left her bag.
Ryser got out of the car and caught up to Jordan in three quick steps. She placed a hand on Jordan’s arm. “We have security watching your dad right this minute. He’s okay.”
Jordan continued onward, staring ahead like a zombie.
CHAPTER 27
Jordan had to get out of there. It was getting dark. She didn’t want to be outside inthe open like this, where it would be too easy to deal with her.
She got into her little blue car and zoomed off. Once inside the newsroom, she’d be safe from The Boss. Alden Walker. Her police detail would be waiting for her when her shift ended.
Claire was still in Fort Lauderdale with her parents. Claire should be protected there. Nelson was home with a police detail, too. She would stay away from him until this situation with Walker was over.
She merged onto the interstate, heading north toward the station, and called Richard. He’d still been at the lake closing up when she got spooked and left.
Jordan’s sweaty hands kept Hermes straight in the middle lane. Her grip would hold if she didn’t make any quick moves. “Richard. I had to run. Did you hear what happened?”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“Evan Groves and Hugo Diaz? The Tampa based cartel members? They were killed in jail.”
“What? By who?” He’d responded almost before she’d spit out the word jail.
“An El Pulpo execution, I’m told.” She wiped one palm on her pants and then the other palm. She gripped Hermes’ wheel tighter.
A black SUV with dark tinted windows closed the distance behind her.
Ryser’s fast. She already had Jordan’s extra protection on the job. The FBI really does know everything.
The front bumper of the SUV grew larger in the rear view mirror until it felt inches away.
At the last minute, the SUV swerved sharply into the left lane.
She gasped. “Oh my god. Sorry. A car just whizzed past me. Anyway…”
The SUV ran alongside Hermes at the same speed. When Jordan sped up, so did he. When she slowed, so did he.
Jordan’s white-knuckled grip on the wheel fatigued her arms and her hands began to cramp.
The SUV moved even closer to Hermes. Jordan could have touched the SUV by sticking her arm out Hermes’ driver’s window.
The SUV accelerated, jumping up to pass her.
Then the black behemoth cut into the center lane and slowed, positioning itself directly in front of Hermes.
Richard said, “Jordan? Are you okay?”
The black SUV in front of her slammed on its brakes.
Jordan gasped again and slammed on her brakes in response.
Then the SUV surged forward.
“Oh my god. This car in front of me. I’m sorry. I was wondering if maybe, when I get back to the station, if I could do a report connecting the story about the bottles on the ship to the bottle I stepped on at the lake.”
“I’m not sure you should report on a story that involves you so closely,” Richard said.
The black SUV swerved to the left lane, slowed, then cut in close behind her and tailgated her again.
Her palms were so sweaty she couldn’t grip the steering wheel. She wiped them again.
“Um, now this SUV is beside me again. He’s driving like a maniac. Speeding up and slowing down on every side of me. I better go.”
“Call me when you get back to the station, okay? Be safe out there.”
Jordan had gripped hard and long. Her biceps and triceps ached. Her hands felt like cramped claws.
She dropped her phone onto the passenger seat and punched Hermes’ accelerator. Her little car jumped ahead.
The SUV closed the gap easily. Its grille filled Hermes’ rearview mirror. It kept coming. Closer. Closer.
Wham!
The SUV hit Hermes’ rear bumper.
Jordan screamed.
The SUV slowed and backed off.
Jordan kept her head above the wheel as she felt around for her phone on the passenger seat.
She grasped it, dried each hand off on her pant legs, and got a steady grip on the wheel again before clicking on Recent Calls to dial Ryser.
She put the call on speaker and grabbed the wheel with both hands again.
The SUV closed the distance again. This time, the SUV slammed into Hermes’ bumper. Hermes bucked and jerked.
Ryser picked up on the first ring.
“I’m in trouble. A black SUV is trying to run me off the road—”
She barely had the last word out when the SUV accelerated and plowed into Hermes once more.
Jordan’s body whiplashed hard against the seatbelt. Her head banged into the headrest.
She lost her grip on the wheel.
* * *
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FALSE TRUTH 11
A JORDAN FOX MYSTERY
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Excerpt from
CHAPTER 1
Sunday, 6:10 p.m.
Jordan’s harrowing drive sped north from Bear Creek Lake along the interstate. Her nerves were stretched to the snapping point. She could smell her own fear.
She was walled in on all sides. Each of the four northbound lanes was occupied by a vehicle much larger than Hermes, her little blue Honda Fit. All of them traveled well above the seventy-mile-an-hour limit. She kept up with traffic because she had no choice but to do the same.
“Keep it together, Jordan.” Her voice sounded panicked in her own ears, but there was no one else in the car to hear it. “You can do this.”
She stretched to keep her head above the wheel as she felt around for her phone on the passenger seat.
She grasped it, dried each hand on her pants, and gripped the wheel again before pressing Recent Calls to dial FBI Special Agent Terry Ryser.
She put the call on speaker and grabbed the wheel with both hands again.
The huge, black SUV closed the distance behind her for the third time. This time, it didn’t back off.
The SUV slammed into Hermes’ bumper. Hermes bucked and jerked, but somehow Jordan managed to hold the Honda in her lane. The pickup truck on her right and the mini-van on her left sped up to get out of the way.
A brief slice of daylight opened up on either side of Hermes before it filled again with more vehicles. She couldn’t see anything to her left because the blinding sun was low in the sky. Off to the right, she glimpsed open farmland.
Ryser picked up on the first ring, but the wait had seemed much longer.
Jordan’s palms slicked the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat trickled down her back. She shouted to be heard over the strain of Hermes’ engine. “I’m in trouble. A black SUV is trying to run me off the road—”
She barely had the last word out when the SUV accelerated and plowed into Hermes once more.
Jordan’s body whiplashed hard against the seatbelt. Her head banged into the headrest.
She lost her grip on the wheel. Hermes drifted right. A horn blared. Solid, deafening noise from the right hand lane.
Jordan slapped both hands on the wheel and clawed tight. The pickup truck’s horn blasted steadily as it accelerated past to get out of Hermes’ way. A sedan moved into the pickup’s place.
The black SUV glided from directly behind her to directly beside her in the left lane like an ice skater in one swift motion. The beastly SUV maintained speed without effort while Hermes strained and the three vehicles traveled abreast.
“Jordan? Are you still there?” To Ryser’s credit, she didn’t say Jordan was a fool for leaving Bear Creek Lake without an escort. No reason to state the obvious.
Not thirty minutes ago, Ryser had warned her. The FBI had confirmed Alden Walker’s intention to kill her. The boss of the El Pulpo international crime cartel wouldn’t waste any time.
Jordan’s breath came faster as she barreled onward, traveling between the sedan and the SUV and rapidly approaching a complicated overpass.
She knew this spot. Concrete ribbons soared into the air, one above another, curving, rising and dipping again. Below the pavement’s elaborate giftwrap lay empty land and a wide but shallow channel connecting inland lakes to the Gulf of Mexico.
Five hundred yards away. Now four-fifty. Now three hundred. What scared her was what would happen at the top.
Her nails dug into the vinyl steering wheel. The SUV hugged the white line dividing their lanes. Holding steady alongside Jordan. Blocking daylight. Haunting her peripheral vision.
“The freaking SUV is bullying me,” Jordan directed her voice toward Hermes’ microphone receiver near the rearview mirror. Her phone made the connection automatically whenever she dialed inside the car. “I’m afraid he’s gonna try to run me over the concrete barrier when we’re on the overpass.”
It wasn’t a crazy idea. And totally possible. She’d seen it happen twice before, once with a semi-tractor trailer and another time with a minivan full of cheerleaders. No survivors then and likely to be none now. Hermes would flatten like a pancake if he fell from that height.
“Take it easy. Everything will be fine. We’re on the way.” Ryser spoke calmly, as if Jordan was about to jump off a building. “The best thing you can do is keep your wits about you right now. Control your movements. Nothing drastic.”
“I’m not suicidal, Ryser. Far from it—oh my god.” The SUV slowed and cut the five inches between its passenger door and Hermes’ driver’s side door in half.
Jordan’s skin spiked with electric energy.
Then, metal screeched as the SUV ran along Hermes’ left side from the rear quarter panel past the door, past the front quarter panel and all the way to the front bumper. Jordan held firm in the center of her lane only by pushing Hermes toward the SUV’s brutal kiss.
At Hermes’ front bumper, the SUV slowed a bit, put daylight between the two vehicles and waited briefly for Hermes to catch up.
“They just hit my car again, Ryser.” Her voice sounded breathless and more panicked than before.
“We’ve pinpointed your location. We can’t get to you until you cross the overpass.”
“I’m good enough, for now.” Jordan’s hands held the wheel steady, and her foot maintained constant, even pressure on the gas. “He scraped the side of my car with his. My car’s still driving.”
She glued her gaze focused on the incline ahead. “I’m going strong and steady. So is he. There’s a sedan on my right side. I don’t know what to do.”
“Can you pull ahead?”
When Hermes nosed ahead, the SUV did the same. When Jordan let up on the gas, the SUV fell back. “No. It makes no difference whether I go sixty or eighty. He’s matching my speed.”
“You’re doing great. Focus only on driving. Do what you have to do to get to safety.” Now Ryser sounded like a coach on the sidelines when the home team was losing. “We’ll intervene when you clear the overpass. Your phone’s on speaker, right?”
“Right.”
“Don’t hang up.”
“Right.” Like she would pry one finger off the wheel to press a button, even if she could.
The SUV was still in her peripheral vision. Jordan glanced to get a look at the driver. But instead, all she saw was black paint closing in on her again.
Another push to the side of her car jerked her body to the right. Her stiff seatbelt yanked her back to center. She pushed the wheel left to keep Hermes in his lane and practically adhered to the SUV again.
She noticed an enormous tractor-trailer. Two trailers attached and running a straight tail behind the monstrous tractor. Each trailer carrying six cars. Approaching from behind in the far lane to the SUV’s left. The lane where trucks were forbidden to travel.
She sucked squeaky air into her throat.
What the hell was he doing there?
She accelerated. Again the SUV matched her speed.
They rushed up the incline now onto the multi-level overpass.
Nonsensically, she laughed. If El Pulpo was trying to kill her by pushing her over the guard rail and sending her plummeting down to her death below, well, that might be a very good strategy. Effective, dramatic…totally El Pulpo’s style.
“Hang on, Jordan. Slow down.” Ryser must have heard the giggle. She’d resumed talking like Jordan was perched on a ledge, which she literally was. “Make it a slow-speed ride-along. We’ll meet you on the other side.”
“Got it.” She didn’t want Ryser to think she couldn’t speak at all.
Jordan slowed Hermes to the speed limit and positioned herself in the center of her lane. The SUV traveled beside her in the immediate left lane and the tandem tractor-trailer carrying six cars on each trailer rolled in the far left lane, on the SUV’s left. The sedan ran steadily in the right lane.
All four vehicles moved in concert.
Jordan ran Hermes up the initial incline at the overpass, carefully remaining horizontally centered between her escorts on either side.
Suddenly, the sedan on the right slid into the last possible exit lane and left the interstate.
The SUV moved gracefully behind Hermes and then accelerated, sliding toward the right lane’s unexpected vacancy.
At the last second, Jordan jerked her steering wheel to the right and slid into the same lane, mere inches ahead of the SUV’s front bumper.
Her quick move caught the SUV accelerating, moving too fast.
After that, everything seemed to happen at once in a flash of metal and colors and deafening noise and sunlight bouncing off steel.
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