Fugitive Justice by Rayven T. Hill Page A

her face.
    Alma Roderick was approaching sixty years old and, despite her usual sour disposition, had kept a youthful appearance. Whenever she allowed her tight lips to unfurl into a smile, it could be seen she was still an attractive woman, much like how Annie would look in another thirty years.
    After an obligatory air kiss, Alma stood back and frowned at her daughter, giving her the once-over. “Have you gained a little weight?”
    “No, Mother. Not an ounce.”
    Alma gave Annie another quick look. “So, where’re you two off to tonight?”
    “It’s just me. Jake’s out on a job, and he’s going to be late. I have to take some stuff to him.”
    Alma frowned lightly and then nodded as if she understood. Annie was glad her mother didn’t wonder why, if she was only making a quick delivery, she couldn’t take Matty with her.
    “I might be late, and Matty has school tomorrow,” Annie added, just in case.
    Alma brushed past her daughter and went inside, Annie following behind. No matter how nasty her mother could be at times, she always treated Matty like a prince, and Matty thought the world of his grandmother. That was something, at least.
    Annie warned Matty not to stay up late, then grabbed the package she’d prepared for Jake and went out to her car. She called Jake’s burner phone and notified him she should be at the overpass in a few minutes.
    As she pulled from the driveway, Annie felt a little nervous about breaking the law. She respected the law and the legal process, but this time, the law was flat-out wrong.
    She glanced in her rearview mirror as a car pulled from the curb several houses behind her. The gray car looked like just about every other car on the road, and that’s what made her suspicious. Unmarked police cars always did. And this one, though keeping its distance, seemed to be following her.
    She kept an eye in the mirror as she turned onto Main. In a moment, it was three cars back, and when she took a left at the next street, her suspicions were confirmed when it followed.
    Circling around the residential block, she turned back onto Main and headed in her original direction, the unmarked car not far behind.
    Annie wondered if Hank was aware she was being watched and followed everywhere she went. Hank was a cop, but he was also a friend. His parting comment to her had indicated that although he knew she’d be having some contact with her husband, he’d overlook it. To deceive her would’ve been a dirty trick, and she decided Hank wasn’t aware of the situation.
    Of course, it might not be a cop, but Annie couldn’t think of anyone else who might be interested in where she went.
    But cop or not, Annie had no choice—she had to ditch the tail.
    She smiled. She knew exactly how to do it without drawing suspicion toward herself.
    She drove casually along Main for two or three minutes, the car following, then she put on her blinker and took the second entrance into the lot of Main Street Toyota.
    It was the large dealership where she’d purchased her new car, and she knew the property was packed, back to front, with brand-new vehicles.
    Many exactly the same as hers.
    She drove down a wide lane toward the rear of the building. To her left and right, new cars shone in the late-evening sun. Others cruised the lot, some being bought, still others in for service. All around her, prospective buyers took their sweet time while eager salesmen chomped at their bits.
    When Annie reached the rear lot, she glanced in her mirror. The tail had just pulled in. She gave it some gas, spun along the back of the building, then circled around to the third row of cars and stopped. The tail didn’t appear to be following. He might be waiting for her at the front.
    It took a few minutes, but Annie finally saw what she was waiting for. A vehicle exactly like hers had pulled from the service garage and was heading for the front of the building, down the lane where she’d come in.
    Annie waited, then spun down