Dirk Peski walked across the sheriff’s parking lot to his Escalade. His conversation with Ziv had been brief and he knew the old man was worried. It had only been about four years since he had learned of Malak’s existence. Now his granddaughter, Angela, was in harm’s way and Dirk understood how powerless he felt.
He decided to go past the ranch and gather a little bit more intel before he returned to San Antonio. This Miss Ruby woman would discover very quickly that Q was gone, and Dirk wanted to do some on-site recon. Q and Angela were probably fine now, as it was unlikely Miss Ruby would chance a second kidnapping attempt.
But if he had learned anything, it was that you could never be too safe.
With the sky overcast and no stars or moonlight showing through, the darkness in this wide-open countryside seemed absolute. The occasional house or ranch provided some light but the headlights on the Escalade seemed inefficient in the gloom.
Dirk slowed the car as the house came into view. The lights were still on inside. But as he drew nearer, he was startled when a black Suburban, running with its lights off, appeared out of the darkness. It roared past him, heading in the opposite direction.
Caution was required. If someone in the Suburban was watching him in the rearview mirror and observed him hitting the brakes, it might alert them that someone was onto them. Waiting until the shadow of the Suburban faded into the darkness, he flipped off his lights and braked. His tires squealing on the asphalt, he spun the wheel hard to the left. The rear end of the vehicle spun to the right and the car did a one-eighty turn. His tires smoked as they bit into the road, and he gave the Escalade gas. A few miles ahead this road would reach the county highway leading to San Antonio. He couldn’t be sure, but off in the distance he thought he saw a set of taillights, but they blinked out of sight as the road rose and dipped.
That was the most direct route back to the city and if the sheriff was up ahead with Miss Ruby on his tail, he hoped he could get there in time. The pavement was long, flat, and black. He again thought he spied a set of taillights, and offered up a silent prayer that it was the sheriff’s car. But without warning, cutting through the dark night, high beams suddenly burst to life, followed by staccato bursts of light that could only be automatic-weapons fire.
Dirk punched it.