No Return

82

Lars was doing eighty without a helmet as he passed the city limits east of town. It was another mile before he saw the flashing lights in his side-view mirror. But while the cop car was slowly gaining, it wasn’t going fast enough to catch up anytime soon.

Lars eased off the throttle. The bike had more to give, but losing the cop was not something he wanted to do. If he was right about where Wes was, it would take the cops a good twenty minutes to get there after he called them. At least this way there would be one squad car with him already. The trick was to remain a tantalizing target. So far, so good.

The problem was he had never personally driven out to the Rocks. The few times he’d gone had all been back in high school, and on each trip Wes had been driving. So it wasn’t surprising he almost overshot the turnoff. As it was, he ended up leaving a long skid mark on the highway to keep from missing it. Once he’d finished the turn, he stopped on the dirt road, engine idling.

Lars knew he had a decision to make. Guess, and chance being wrong, or wait until he was sure, and chance being too late. Hell, I could already be too late.

He pulled out his phone and saw that the reception indicator was down to two bars. If he went much farther, the signal would be gone altogether. It looked like he didn’t have a choice, after all.

He was halfway through his phone call when the police cruiser pulled to a stop across the mouth of the road. There was only one man in the car. He immediately jumped out, his hand hovering above his gun.

“Step away from your vehicle!” the officer ordered.

“Have you got my location?” Lars said into the phone.

“Got it,” Janice said.

“You know what to do,” he said. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Sir, I’ll tell you only one more time,” the cop said, stepping toward Lars.

Lars stuffed the phone in his pocket.

The cop was only ten feet away now. “Get off the motorcycle.”

“No time,” Lars said. “We’ve got to get out there.” He pointed in the direction of the Rocks.

“Sir, keep your hands where I can see them,” the cop ordered, his own hand now resting on the butt of his gun.

“Listen, Officer. My name is Lieutenant Commander Lars Andersen. There is a crime happening out-”

“I don’t care who you are. Get off the motorcycle now!”

“Listen to me,” Lars said. “There’s been a kidnapping. There are people in serious trouble. I need you to follow me.”

“Sir. Don’t-”

“Call the station, they’re already expecting to hear from me. Tell them to send everyone they can to the Drama Rocks.”

Lars put the bike into gear and took off, not waiting to see what the cop decided to do.