Читать книгу Next of Kin - C.J. Carmichael - Страница 9

OFFICER CASEY GUTHRIE settled on the seat of his BMW motorcycle, then kicked back the side stand. He waited patiently while the driver of the black Lexus put away his license and vehicle registration papers. God, it was a great day. He relished the warmth of the late-afternoon sun on his head and shoulders.

His dayshift was over—this ticket had been the last. After a quick shower and nap at home, he’d be heading out to party. Some guys he’d gone to the academy with were in town and wanted to hit a few bars.

The man in the Lexus shot him a dark look as he shoulder-checked before merging once more into traffic. The irate businessman was going to be even later for his meeting than he’d anticipated. Maybe next time he’d leave a few minutes early and avoid the need to rush.

But probably not.

Casey revved his BMW, then shot off behind the Lexus, following the guy for a few minutes as a mild warning to keep that speed under control. After ten minutes he pulled a U-turn at an uncontrolled intersection and headed back the way he’d come, toward the station.

That last ticket had made him a little late, so Casey decided to hit the highway rather than navigate the slower inner-city roads. As he approached the feeder lanes, he carefully shoulder-checked. Two blondes in a white convertible sped by. One waved. The other blew a kiss. Too bad he’d turned off his radar. Pulling those two over would have been fun. He might have ended up with a date for tonight.

With a sigh of regret, he merged onto the highway. The sad truth was, he was really looking forward to his shower and nap more than the night on the town with the boys. He’d probably be happier spending the evening with his big brother, Adam, and his fiancée, Faith. Since hooking up with the bright defense attorney, the ever-serious chief of detectives had lightened up considerably. Last time they’d had a meal together, Adam hadn’t mentioned a word about Casey needing to think about his future.

Paradoxically, Casey had begun to dwell on that very topic. For the past ten years, getting paid to zip around the pretty oceanside city of Courage Bay on a motorcycle all day had seemed too good to be true. But a cop couldn’t stay on motorcycle patrol forever. Where did he want to be in ten years when he was forty?

The speed limit on the highway was sixty miles an hour, so Casey opened the throttle, shooting ahead of the dawdling Corolla in front of him. Compelled by the beauty of the day, he had to fight a sudden urge to do a little speeding himself. The ocean sprawled lazily on his left, and though it was October, the beach was dotted with sunbathers and swimmers.

Was there any finer place on earth than Courage Bay, California? The urge to get home grew stronger. He forced himself to slow down a fraction. He’d be there soon enough.

In his rearview mirror he spotted a pretty brunette in a Mazda convertible coming up in the left lane. Her hair was tied back and she wore sunglasses. Her lips were moving, though she was alone in the car. Probably singing along to the radio. She looked happy.

She was also speeding. She shot right past him, but must have caught sight of his bike and the insignia on the side, because a second later her brake lights flashed once, and then again.

Raising a hand to the side of his helmet, he met her gaze in her rearview mirror and gave her a mock salute. I’m off duty, ma’am. Lucky for you.

He slowed even further and soon she was lost in the lines of traffic ahead of him. Unlike the two blondes, whom he’d immediately forgotten, this brunette stuck in his mind.

RELIEVED THAT HE HADN’T signaled her to pull over, Jackie Kellison smiled at the reflection of the good-looking motorcycle policeman in her rearview mirror. She still had half an hour before her shift at Courage Bay Hospital’s ER started, so she’d had no reason to exceed the speed limit.

But there was something about this day that made her feel a little reckless. The weather so perfect, the ocean so calm, the air so sweet. The wind must be blowing in the right direction, because not a wisp of smog spoiled the vivid blues of sky and water.

She checked the mirror again. The motorcycle cop was now several vehicles behind her. She felt mildly disappointed. He was cute, and surely she hadn’t imagined the playful grin he’d directed toward her when she’d automatically pumped on her brakes. Maybe it would have been fun to be ticketed by him.

Jackie, Jackie, Jackie, she admonished herself. Her life really was dull if she imagined getting a traffic citation would be fun.

Leaning forward, she turned the radio volume higher and resumed singing to the Dixie Chicks’ latest single. Yes, the truth was her life was extremely dull. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d done anything just because she thought it would be fun. Even speeding was rashly uncharacteristic of her these days.

Maybe the old Jackie was coming back?

No, not quite. But a modified version, someone stronger…and wiser. Michael had said she’d heal eventually, and bless his kind, patient soul, he’d been right.

She didn’t credit only Michael, gifted therapist that he was, with her mental recovery, though. She could never have managed without the support of her brothers. Since her grandfather’s death when they were all kids, Robert—or Kell, as everyone called him—and Nate had been her only family and, as a result, the three of them were very thick.

They’d been almost as devastated as her when Andrew…But no. She wouldn’t think of him now. She would just enjoy the rest of her drive to work and maybe even fantasize a little about the cute cop on that wicked motorcycle.

THE BABY IN THE BACK SEAT was crying now. Damn. She should have taken the time to warm a bottle at the mall. What was she going to do? Traffic was so heavy, she couldn’t pull over to the side. Could she somehow get a bottle from the diaper bag while she was driving?

Cautiously, the blonde reached her right arm back toward the bag. She caught the strap and managed to pull it forward a few inches until it jammed between the infant carrier and the front passenger seat.

Oh, hell. Couldn’t anything go right today?

“It’s okay, sweetie. I’ll get you something to eat.” The constant wailing was giving her a headache. She groped for the bag’s zipper, trying to remember into which compartment she’d packed the bottle.

In the instant she had her eyes off the road, the air suddenly shook with a huge explosion. The car in front of her burst into flames. She screamed and grabbed onto the steering wheel with all her might.

Oh, God, no. The burning car careened into the next lane, cutting off a huge tractor-trailer rig that had been passing them on the left-hand side. The rig driver hit his brakes, but couldn’t avoid the collision. She heard the most awful noise of tires screeching on pavement, metal grinding on metal. The trailer zigzagged beside her—it was going to overturn!

She was trapped by traffic on all sides. There was nowhere for her to escape.

Help me. Help me. Oh, God…dear God…

AN EXPLOSION OF SOUND cut off Jackie’s effort at positive thinking. Crashing metal, screeching tires, shattering glass. Several cars ahead of her, a huge tractor-trailer rig overturned, amid a cloud of thick black smoke. As her Mazda rushed toward the bumper of the vehicle in front of her, she slammed on her brakes. There was no way to prevent the crash. She braced herself for impact.

“Oh!” Her airbag deployed, knocking the breath from her lungs. She’d hit the car in front of her, and less than a second later felt an impact from the rear as the vehicle behind her joined the pileup.

I’ve had a car crash! For the few seconds that she couldn’t breathe, she wondered if she was going to make it. Was this what she had suffered through the last two years of her life for? To die in a traffic accident?