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Chapter Eight
"Road Trip"
It was before sunrise and Peter was already gritting his teeth. They had hit the road early as Celeste requested, but it wasn't long before Peter realized it was going to be a very long trip home. Even with an empty highway that would allow him to make good time, the minutes crawled by with Celeste's dark mood.
Celeste had proven to be one of the most argumentative women Peter had ever met. To say that she had a chip on her shoulder the size of Cleveland would be an understatement. Detective Caine did his professional best to put up with her steady stream of complaints. It just went on and on.
'Turning in late probably didn't help her mood any,' Peter thought, 'but then again I didn't get much sleep myself and I'm not harping on her every move.'
Finally, Peter pulled the car over to the side of the road. He asked her to step outside and join him for a moment of private conversation, knowing Tommy didn't need to hear the discussion he had planned for Celeste.
She joined him after glaring at him for several moments. She climbed out of the car under an air of protest. She refused his hand of assistance, and then slammed the door shut in irritation.
'Don't push me too hard, lady. My manners only go so far,' Peter thought grimly as he stood before the petite woman who had only one way of viewing life. Basically, her way.
He took a brief moment to compose himself as best he could, and then he launched into his speech. He spoke with a tightly controlled voice and more than a little annoyance shone through. "Look, Celeste, we don't have to like each other. I'm only here to get you back to testify safely. That's it! That's all! Nothing more! You don't have to like the car. You don't have to like the road, my driving, or the frigging weather! So, just button it until we get home!"
When Celeste opened her mouth to respond, Peter raised a hand with one finger pointed upward so rapidly, it silenced any words she was about to say.
"No, I said that's it and I meant it. No debate, no commandments, no nothing. In six hours, we'll be back in town. You'll be handed over to a protection detail and out of my hair! We won't have to lay eyes on one another ever again. Hallelujah for that! But until then, I don't to want hear a single word out of your mouth unless it's something regarding Tommy or an emergency."
He slapped his hands together for emphasis. "Get it? Got it? Good. Now, get back in the damned car and let's get out of here."
Peter opened her door, and then rounded the car to get into the driver's seat. He knew full well that if he had waited for her to get in to close the door behind her, she would have lambasted him for something.
Without little other recourse, Celeste got into the car as ordered, pulling on Tommy's baseball cap after she sat down, and then glared into the rearview mirror. Peter could feel her eyes on him, but the streetwise detective was smart enough not to glance up at her reflection.
He used his side mirror to check for check for traffic before pulling out onto the empty highway. Right then, Peter would have paid any sum of money for some music, talk radio...anything to break than the heavy silence in the car. Of course, the silence was infinitely better than Celeste's constant ranting, so it was the lesser of two evils.
The only redeeming soul in the car was poor little Tommy Hills. It was because of him that both adults there were forced to restrain themselves from a very ugly trip home. The young boy just broke Peter's heart whenever he spied him in the rearview mirror. So withdrawn, so alone, so...much like himself after his father's death.
The fact that Peter had been a few years older than Tommy when he was told Kwai Chang Caine was dead might have helped him be a little better equipped to deal with his grief. A little better equipped, but not by much. Peter focused on the road as he swallowed back unwanted feelings coming to life, reawakened by Tommy's inner pain.
He glanced up at the storm clouds looking angrier than they had the day before. The snow predicted for the previous night never came, probably because it was too damned cold to snow.
He glanced back at the road and his mirrors. That was when he took note of a black Explorer following them in the distance. Its detail had become more pronounced with the increasing morning light. It seemed the trailing vehicle always managed to stay several lengths behind them as Peter carefully observed the driver's actions. It didn't matter if he sped up or slowed down, the Explorer never went slower or faster than they were going.
The haunting image of a black Ford Explorer barreling out of the roadside diner's parking lot the day before loomed in his thoughts. 'Dammit! We still have another thirty miles before we meet up with the state troopers,' Peter reminded himself grimly. "Without the GPS tracker, how did they find us, find this car again?"
Peter was worried and it only multiplied as he realized only Paul knew where they'd been. He might have shared the news with the DA, to let him know that there had been trouble, and that Det. Caine was bringing the witness from Rural Route 33 and would meet up with the state troopers at the Interstate interchange.
He bit his lip as he realized there had to be a mole somewhere, leaking information to Wilson Cooper Clark and his high paid assassins. But he didn't have time for possible leaks, he had to notify Paul of their situation.
He reached for the car phone and punched in the precinct's telephone number. Celeste had been watching him like a hawk from the moment she saw him stiffen and begin to check his mirrors repeatedly. Her expression reflected the sudden apprehension in Peter's actions.
"What is it?" she whispered, not wanting to awaken Tommy.
"It's nothing. I'm just checking in," Peter lied brusquely as he brought the phone to his ear.
"But you just called them from the house before we left," Celeste began, but stopped when Peter's eyes widened with alarm.
He quickly pressed the reset button on the phone and brought it to his ear before angrily tossing the handset into the empty front passenger seat, cursing under his breath. He pulled out his cell phone and got the same results.
"Detective, please tell me. What's the matter?" she asked in a tone that would not be denied.
Peter noted her escalating apprehension as his eyes darted over the landscape and rearview mirrors. "The car phone's dead. My cell phone can't get a signal to dial out. And I think we're being tailed," Peter stated with a tight-lipped expression.
Celeste's hand flew to her mouth as her head swung around to look behind them. "It might be the mountains. Sometimes, they can make cell phones or radio calls impossible."
Peter nodded in acknowledgment, but he was busy examining their options as they sailed down the highway. He couldn't see any other hostiles in the area preparing to attack, but that didn't mean they weren't out there.
As he drove, he also scanned the area and his memories from his recent road trip to the Zimmerman's home the night before. He looked for possible avenues of escape, but being led all over the countryside in the dark left Peter completely turned around. He knew the direct route from the Zimmerman home to the city, but that was about it.
Peter frowned as he realized he was going to have to rely on Celeste to guide them to safety. "Celeste, how well do you know the area?"
"I spent my summers here when we were growing up," she said in a barely contained voice.
"Great, we're gonna use that to our advantage. First, check your seatbelt and Tommy's. Tighten them up as much as possible. When I ask for a choice of roads, say it fast and sure. When you chose, keep in mind we need the most direct route to get us back to the Interstate or to a town. Preferably, a town with a police department or a sheriff's substation, that kind of thing. Remember, our lives may depend on the choices you make."
"Oh, God," Celeste murmured as she did as Peter requested, cinching Tommy's safety belt before moving to her own. All done without complaint or a deadly glare for the first time since he had met her.
Peter handed her a map of the area without a word. He was busy watching for any sign of danger. Celeste tucked the now slumbering boy protectively under one arm, and unfolded the map. She studied it, her head popping up to get her bearings and then back to the map. Peter caught a glimpse of Celeste's pale, panicked face scrunched up in forced concentration as she brought the map closer to read the finely detailed diagrams.
He found himself wishing for backup of any sort. Now, all he had for comfort was a mute child, a petrified road guide, his nine-millimeter Beretta in its holster, along with a backup .32 strapped to his ankle. He had a couple extra clips for the Beretta, but that was it, except for gut-full of regrets and fears. He had a feeling that what he had in the way of weapons wasn't going to be nearly enough as he glanced into the rearview mirror one more time.
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