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The machine gun behind them opened up again and the Escalade's back window evaporated in a glittering shower of glass.

Both kids screamed.

David glanced right, saw the sedan's rear passenger window lower and the shotgun barrel come out.

“Get down!”

Amy ducked.

David raised his pistol and fired over her through the open window. He kept pulling the trigger, filling the backseat of the sedan with lead, until the gun clicked empty. The shotgun barrel fell back into the car.

David looked ahead. They were nearing the edge of the residential neighborhood where the street emptied into a busy four-lane road.

David stomped on the brakes, and the SUV skidded and squealed to a halt. The smell of tire smoke drifted through the Escalade. The sedan flew past him and out into the intersection. The cross traffic vehicles blared horns and screeched tires, swerving to barely miss the sedan weaving between the cars.

The city bus didn't miss.

It plowed into the side of the sedan with a sickening crunch and swept it rapidly out of sight. David allowed himself some fleeting satisfaction.

The van hit the Escalade from behind.

David felt the impact in his neck.

The world became a blur in the windshield as the back of the Escalade fishtailed around, spinning a complete circle. David experienced a stab of panic as the passenger side tires slid into the curb and the Escalade started to flip. There was a harrowing pause before the SUV landed hard again on all four tires, and David allowed himself to breathe.

The roar of the van's engine focused David's attention. The van was coming hard.

He shifted into reverse and pushed the gas pedal flat. The van gained as the Escalade sped backward. David saw the man leaning out the van's side door raise the machine gun again.

“Everybody down!”

The gun belched blue fire, and David flinched as the windshield glass shattered inward, covering him and Amy.

“David.” She shoved the pistol into his hand. Reloaded.

He pointed it out front, over the steering wheel and squeezed off five rapid shots, the pistol bucking in his hand.

The slugs dotted a neat line across the van's windshield, spiderwebbing the glass. The van lurched one way then another and then turned sharply and slammed into a parked car with a racket of metal and glass.

David stood on the brakes and spun the Escalade around. He paused, looked back at the wrecked van for a long second. He gripped the Sig Sauer, ready. When the van didn't move and nobody emerged, he shifted the SUV into drive and headed away fast, merging swiftly into traffic and heading for the freeway.

In the backseat, the children sobbed loudly, sucking for air and hiccoughing.

“It's okay.” David kept the Escalade steady, driving the speed limit. “We're okay now. Amy, call your sister. Tell her we're coming. Don't tell her anything else, not yet. Just that … something came up.”

Amy dialed her phone.

“I want to go home,” Anna wailed through her tears.

“Who wants to go to McDonalds?” David asked. “Who wants a Happy Meal?”

They cried harder.

“Disney World!” David said suddenly. “We're going to Disney World.”

Anna's sobs dwindled to a trickle. “Really?”

Brent stopped crying altogether. “Can we stay in a hotel with a swimming pool?”

 

CHAPTER ELEVEN

David sat in the Escalade in his sister-in-law's driveway with his American Express Gold card on his lap and the phone to his ear. He was almost done making the arrangements, but kept getting distracted, his eyes sweeping the street.

How long would it take them? When would they figure out this was the next place to try?

He couldn't stop his brain from accumulating and categorizing information. Items that needed to be worried about immediately, concerns that would need attention in the very near future, and miscellany to be tabled until a more convenient time.

In the least pressing category were thoughts about the Escalade and the insurance deductible, the money he was currently putting on his gold card, the fact he'd need to call the school to tell them the kids wouldn't be there.

In the most urgent category was the knowledge he'd already sat in his sister-in-law's driveway too long. He needed to keep moving.

Just as he finished his phone call, he looked up to see Jeff emerge from the house. David got out of the car to meet him.

Jeff whistled and gawked at the Escalade. “Holy fucking shit, man. Amy sort of gave us the short version of what happened but …
damn
.”

“It could have been worse,” David said.

“Hell yeah, you could have been killed.”

“Yes.”

“Have you called the police?”

“Not yet,” David said.

Jeff gave him the fish-eye. “Well … don't you think you'd better?”

David looked up and down the street. No cars coming. Nothing yet. David had neither the time nor the desire to get into a lengthy debate with Jeff. He needed to be as firm and as direct about this as possible. Jeff needed to understand and understand
now
.

“There were police guarding our house,” David said. “They left only a few minutes before this started. It was a bailiff who shot Amy's boss at the courthouse. The line between good guys and bad guys is a bit fuzzy at the moment. So here's what we're going to do. We're going to make sure the people we care about are safe first, and then we'll talk to the appropriate authorities to get this straightened out.”

“Damn, I mean…” Jeff scratched his head. “I mean, hell, you guys can hide out here of course. We're family. Or if you need to leave the kids—”

“I appreciate that, Jeff,” David said. “But that's not good enough. I'm going to need you to pack up your family and mine and drive to Disney World. I've already made the reservations, and it won't cost you a dime.”

“Disney World.”

“Yes.”

“That's in Florida.”

“Yes,” David said. “Far away.”

Jeff shuffled his feet, rubbed the back of his neck. “Damn, David, I'm store manager. We do our schedules pretty far in advance and I can't just … you know … take off.”

David sighed and nodded.

Jeff didn't understand that his whole world had just changed. It needed to sink in but wasn't happening fast enough.

David put a hand on Jeff's shoulder. Gently. He guided him around to the rear of the Escalade and gestured to the vehicle. “Those are bullet holes. From a nine millimeter submachine gun. These are people who wanted my wife dead and didn't care if there were children in the car when they started shooting. They are targeting her specifically, for something she knows or something they did, but they know all about her and came after her. That means they know who her sister is, too, and where you live. They haven't finished the job, and that means they'll come looking. They'll come right here to your house. If they think you might have useful information, they'll make you tell it. It won't matter if you don't know anything. They'll need to make sure. If they think hurting Elizabeth will make you talk, then that's what they'll do. And they won't leave any witnesses. It doesn't matter if they're children. They won't care.”

The color drained from Jeff's face.

“It's not fair. You didn't do anything to make this happen, but that doesn't matter. It's happening anyway. Now here's what you're going to do.” David spoke slowly, calmly. “You're going to call your assistant manager or whoever's next in line and tell him he's on the job. Do not tell him you're going to Florida. Make up a lie. Keep it simple. Then you're going to drive yourself and both of our families to Florida. If Brent or Anna asks where Daddy is you're going to tell them everything is fine and that I'm just taking care of some business. Then you're going to see Mickey or eat ice cream or whatever is fun and will keep them happy. I'll call Amy every day to update you guys. Understand?”

“I…” He seemed to have trouble finding breath. “I guess I can pack up and then first thing in the morning—”

“I need you on the road in ten minutes.”

Jeff swallowed hard, nodded.

David squeezed his shoulder. “I'm trusting you with everything, Jeff. My wife and kids. You can do this.”

Jeff nodded again. “Ten minutes.”

*   *   *

David sat behind the wheel of the Escalade and watched Jeff toss the last piece of luggage into the back of his pickup. He'd already kissed Anna and Brent good-bye, and now he watched from his parking spot on the street to make sure they got off okay. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, willing his in-laws to move faster.

Amy walked toward him, the bag she'd brought from home slung over her shoulder. She climbed in the passenger side and shut the door. She looked straight ahead, specifically avoiding eye contact with her husband.

“What do you think you're doing?” David asked.

“Coming with you.” Amy said. “Elizabeth can handle Anna and Brent.”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” David said.

She offered him a withering look. “You don't have the security codes to my building and office.”

“You could give them to me.”

“What's the senior administrative assistant's name at the DA's office?”

“I don't know.”

“Who runs the bailiff's office and what are the watch captain's names?” Amy asked.

“I don't know.”

“This is a DA problem on DA turf,” Amy said. “This isn't happening without me. I'll admit being shot at was new. You can handle that part. But I'm going.”

They looked at each other deadpan.

David broke eye contact first, turned his head to watch Jeff's truck back into the street. Jeff honked and waved out the window before pulling away.

Amy took her phone out of her bag. “First thing is to figure out who in my office to call. Somebody trustworthy.”

“Put that on hold. Think about it,” David said. “First thing we find a safe place and regroup.”

“Okay then,” Amy said. “So drive already.”

David shifted the Escalade into gear, leaving the quiet neighborhood and finding his way back to the freeway. They were over the bridge and into the city when David's smartphone rang.

He didn't recognize the number but answered it anyway. “Hello?”

“You're making a lot of noise out there, man.”

“Charlie.”

“Are you near a TV?” he asked.

“No.”

“Never mind,” Charlie said. “I'll send the video to your e-mail.”

“Not to mine,” David said. “Send it to my wife's e-mail. Get a pencil. Write it down.”

“It's okay. I already have it.” Charlie hung up.

Of course
.

They hit Midtown and crossed to the west side. The wind washed through the SUV. David felt conspicuous driving around in a vehicle with practically no windows, full of bullet holes, dents. Nobody much noticed. Welcome to New York City.

“Where are we going?” Amy asked.

“I know somebody.”

Three blocks later, he turned into a hotel parking garage and backed the Escalade into the darkest most remote corner he could find. David grabbed his duffel and Amy her bag and they found the stairwell and took it up to the lobby.

They stood in line at the front desk, waiting behind a half-dozen people looking to check in. David exhaled, tried not to feel so impatient at how long the line was taking.

“Why here?” Amy asked in a low voice.

“A friend,” David said. “I'm hoping for a favor.”

When they finally made it to the front of the line, a cheerful young lady asked if they had a reservation.

“No, actually,” David said.

She tsked. “That's a problem. We're filled to the max because of the convention. Even the overflow hotels are full.” She fixed David with a
please go away
look.

David glanced quickly around the lobby. Roughly half the people wore little burgundy fezzes with gold tassels perched on their heads. Ties pulled loose, cheeks rosy, drinks in their hands. Shriners. David had been so occupied with his own thoughts, he'd failed to notice. He chastised himself. A lapse in awareness of his immediate surroundings could be exactly what got him or Amy killed.

“Is Larry Meadows here?” David asked.

“He's pretty busy,” she said. “Again, the convention. If you need to speak to somebody, one of the assistant managers on duty would be happy to—”

“Thanks, but Larry and I are old friends and this is important. I'd appreciate it if you could get him for me. I understand he's busy, and I can wait in the bar until he's available.”

“May I give him a name?”

“Tell him it's his old drinking buddy from Basrah.”

She regarded him a moment before saying. “Okay … I'll try to get him.”

“Thanks,” David said. “We'll be in the bar.”

It was made up like an old Irish pub, crowded, impossible to get a table, but a couple of Shriners stumbled away from a stretch of bar and David and Amy took their places. The harried bartender hurried over to take their orders.

“A club soda with lime,” David.

“Club soda, huh?” Amy shook her head. “After our day so far I think I need something with a little more backbone. Double Scotch rocks. Whatever's in the well is fine.”

The bartender knew his business, and the drinks arrived fast. Amy took half hers down in one go.

“Take it easy,” David said.

She laughed. “Take it easy, he says. God, are you kidding? For Christ's sake.”

“I know you,” David said. “I married a strong, level-headed, smart woman. So you get thirty seconds to feel shock and awe, and then we have to focus.”