Allison Brennan - Silenced

The woman was still on the front porch, and down the long driveway, a black woman was talking to her next-door neighbor.

They had to be cops.

Almost at the same time, a dark blue van turned down the street. The driver wore a ball cap, but there was something familiar about him.

She’d seen him with Wendy many times.

What did Wendy call him? Dumb and Dumber. He had a brother. She called the two of them Dumb and Dumber, said they were her partners, but she ridiculed them.

But that was so long ago. Why was he here?

Did he have a hand in Wendy’s death? He shouldn’t even know where Ivy lived! Did Wendy tell him? Did Wendy hate her so much that she sent a killer after her?

Ivy didn’t believe it. They had a major disagreement, but Wendy wasn’t violent. And Wendy was dead.

Had the killer tortured the information out of her?

Ivy had to keep her wits about her. She’d run-but not to Marti’s church or St. Anne’s. She had to go far away, turn the attention away from her sister and Mina.

She wished Kerry had gotten in contact with her-she needed to be warned. But it had been three days and total silence.

What if she and Bryn were already dead?

A cry escaped Ivy’s chest and she swallowed it, the lump sticking like unchewed steak in her throat.

She squatted behind the shed, hoping he was gone. Waited. But she was nervous and antsy and couldn’t just sit here waiting for Dumb or Dumber to find her.

Wendy was obviously wrong about their intellect if they could kill so many people and not get caught.

She started across the backyard, but moved too fast. Or too slow.

The woman at the door caught her eye.

Ivy sprinted to the fence sealed it quickly. Then she and saw Dumb’s van again. He grinned at her, pointed his finger like a gun.

Ivy ran faster.

Lucy ran across the street to Genie’s car. “Genie! I think I saw Ivy!”

Genie ran down the sidewalk and jumped into the driver’s seat while Lucy ran around to the passenger side. Genie called in the pursuit of a subject on foot, and Lucy directed her around the corner.

“She jumped over the back fence.”

Genie squealed around the corner and turned down the alley. It was much harder to pursue a suspect on foot while driving.

“Do you see her?” Genie asked. Lucy was scouring the area, looking around the Dumpsters and garbage cans and through cracks in the fence.

“Dammit!”

“I’ll go down the next alley, then go around wide, backup is on its way.”

Genie crossed a two-lane street and drove into the adjoining alley. She slammed on her brakes when a woman darted out in front of her car.

It was definitely Ivy. She looked over her shoulder, terror etched in her face, then back at Lucy.

Lucy shouted, “Get in!” and manually unlocked the back door.

Ivy was obviously torn, but another glance behind her had her running around the car. She grabbed the door handle, pulled it open, and jumped into the backseat, keeping her head low. Before she’d even closed the door, she shouted, “Go, go, go!”

Genie sped down the narrow space, looking in her rearview mirror.

“Is someone chasing you?”

“Yes.”

“Who? I don’t see anyone.”

“I don’t know!”

The bumper clipped a garbage can and the crash of metal made Lucy jump.

“Don’t slow down!” Ivy cried.

Lucy turned in her seat and looked through the back window of Genie’s sedan.

“I don’t see anyone,” she said. “Genie, slow down.”

“I got it under control.” She glanced at Lucy and grinned. “You look green.”

“I don’t like car chases.”

“Let’s just get to the station.”

“No!” Ivy screamed. “Please, no!”

Lucy looked back again and saw a van turn down the alley from a side street.

“Genie! Van, dark blue, behind you.”

“Can you see the driver?”

“White male. Baseball cap.”

“Tags?”

“There’s no front plate. He’s gaining.”

Genie turned out of the alley, but the street was also narrow, parallel to but higher than the main road. A low guard railing separated them from a steep drop. She called in the pursuit.

Lucy said to Ivy, “I’m sorry we have to meet like this. I’m Lucy Kincaid-I’m an analyst for the FBI, and I can help.”

“You did-you got me away from that guy. Now let me out.”

“You’re in danger. This is Detective Genie Reid with DC police; she’ll put you in protective custody. She’s investigating the murder of your friends.”

“You don’t understand. Just let me out!” Ivy hit the seat.

“Who else is in danger? We can protect them as well.”

The unmarked car wasn’t designed for carrying prisoners, had no shield separating the back from the front. Lucy watched Ivy’s hands, realizing she had been impulsive, that Ivy could have a gun, she could be dangerous.

“Ivy, please trust me.”

Ivy snorted. “I can’t trust anybody.”

“Do you know who killed Nicole and Maddie?”

“How-” She stopped talking.

“I know about your sister.”

Silence.

“Mina, right? Where is she?”

A screech behind them caught Lucy’s attention. The van had gained on them.

“Shit!” Genie exclaimed.

The van was on their bumper. The driver hit them hard. Genie barely kept the car on the road.

“That’s him!” Ivy said. “Can’t you drive any faster?”

“Officer in trouble!” Genie said into her mic. “Cleveland near Thirty-first. Dark blue van-shit!”

The van hit them again. A red light was ahead, cross traffic in front of them. Genie had her grille lights flashing. She flipped a switch on the dashboard and a siren whirled then died, whirled then died.

The cars ahead of them slowed, blocking the intersection.

The van rear-ended them and Lucy let out a startled yelp. Ivy had a grip on the door, as if debating whether to jump out.

Genie veered to the wrong side of the street and turned the wrong way down a one-way street. It bought them only a few seconds. The van squealed, sideswiped a parked car, and followed.

He stuck his hand out the window. Metal flashed in the sunlight.

“Gun!” Lucy cried out.

The gunman fired at the tires and missed. He fired his gun again and her back window cracked.

“Stay down!” Genie ordered.

A crossing guard guiding small children was right in front of their car. Genie turned the wheel sharply right, down an embankment, losing control of the vehicle. It was going too fast, and then it hit the bottom and almost went end over end. The airbags exploded, sounding too much like a gunshot. Lucy’s head banged hard against the airbag. Her body was jerked sharply back and suddenly the car fell on all four tires.

Lucy coughed from the powder released with the airbags. “Genie?”

The steering column was wedged tight against the detective and blood was dripping down her face. She was unconscious, but breathing.

“Ivy, are you okay?”

Ivy had a cut on her head and was coughing as well. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” She tried her door but it wouldn’t open.

Lucy’s vision was blurred, but she located her handbag on the floor by her feet and retrieved her gun.

“Don’t,” Lucy told Ivy. She spit blood out of her mouth. Her head was spinning. She tried to unbuckle the seat belt, but it was jammed.

Their attacker had started down the embankment. He had a gun. There were onlookers at the railing looking down. Any of them could be a hostage or get caught in the line of fire. Lucy didn’t trust her aim because of double vision; she would have to wait until he got closer to fire.

She heard sirens at the same time as the gunman. He hesitated. She fired her gun at his feet-both pairs of them-then ducked. Screams from the road above cut through the ringing in her ears. He fired once into the side of her car, then a much closer siren and bullhorn sounded from the road below the embankment.