The Templar Reprisals (The Best Thrillers Book 3) by James Best (free ebook reader for ipad .TXT) 📗

given chase. The others may try to get through our security. Code Union. Understand?”

“Yes.”

Trish became quiet, but he could hear heavy breathing. Good. That meant she was racing to their saferoom. The codes he had given the dispatcher meant shots fired and officer being followed by auto with dangerous persons. He and Trish had set up Code Union to mean race for their saferoom which was hidden in the master suite.

Early in his police career he had advised the wealthy on home security. Now, he was among the rich, so he had a state-of-the-art system. They lived on an outcropping in the San Ynez Mountains, and the only access was a serpentine road that twisted away from Santa Barbara. After a couple squealing turns, Evarts heard Trish say she was in. He ended the call. She was safe.

Now, how to deal with these assholes behind him?

He suddenly tapped the brakes and then accelerated, repeating the process several times. As he slowed, he hoped it looked like he had run out of gas. The chase car came barreling on. When it was fifty feet away, Evarts slammed on the brakes, coming to a complete stop, and then put it in reverse and punched it. He aimed right at the chase car. To avoid a crash, the car swerved to the center of the road. Evarts swung the back of his pickup to meet the pursuit car’s right front bumper. The sedan was no match for the heavy truck. The off-center hit spun the sedan and sent it flying into the low brush off the road. Evarts broke hard, unsnapped his seatbelt, and as he threw open his truck door, pulled his Glock .40 handgun. Before the pursuing car came to a rest, Evarts was racing toward the car.

Not fast enough.

Two men flew out of the car. Both with guns. Evarts shot the driver before he could raise his weapon. The assailant on the passenger side rested his gun on the roof of the sedan and fired three shots. Evarts had already dived to the ground. He rolled twice and got to his knees opposite the driver’s wide-open door. Firing through the car, Evarts shot the second assailant twice in the stomach, then snapped to his full height to shoot over the roof. He put a single shot into the head of the assailant.

When the gunfire sound faded away, Evarts heard sirens. There were no streetlights, so Evarts holstered his pistol and raised his hands. Two squad cars with lights and sirens blazing, screeched to a stop on the other side of his Raptor.

One of the officers ran hunched alongside his truck with his arms extended holding a pistol in both hands.

He hesitated just a moment before yelling, “Chief, put your hands down.”

Evarts lowered his hands. “Making sure you recognized me. Has a car reached my home?”

“Yes. They reported no intruders.”

“Did you pass anyone on the way to my house?”

“An Uber and an SUV.”

“No four-door sedan?”

“The Uber. One occupant. Black U insignia in windshield.”

Evarts pulled his phone. After reaching his Command Center, he asked, “What’s the report from my house?”

“Officers on premises. No one inside the perimeter grounds. They’re talking to your wife on your home intercom.”

“She okay?”

After a pause, the dispatcher said, “She’s unharmed and still in the saferoom. Should we tell her to exit.”

“Not yet. There’s another car of assailants. Put out a BOLO for a dark four-door sedan with an Uber logo in the windshield. If stopped, approach with caution. Armed and dangerous.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Also send detectives to this site. Shots fired, two dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Get to it.”

He ended the call.

Chapter 14

Since he had shot two assailants, Evarts had turned the investigation over to the Sheriff’s Department. A lethal shooting by a law enforcement official meant crossing every t and dotting every i. As a result, he was not allowed to leave the scene until two-thirty in the morning. Although he had talked to Trish several times on the phone, it was a relief to see her in person when he finally got home.

Neither of the assailants had identification and the rental contract was not in the car nor on their person. Since the car was probably rented with false papers, Evarts didn’t expect much from the rental company. But … many times criminals were sloppy or stupid. It made his job easier.

The second car had not been found. Evarts hoped they were in hiding in his city, not several hundred miles away. Pacific Coast Highway was the only major thoroughfare into or out of town, and he had verified that PCH had been covered quickly, so hopefully they hadn’t escaped. He instructed his patrol officers to exchange their police cruisers for personal vehicles. Maybe if the bad guys thought the heat was off, they’d break cover.

By eight the next morning, Evarts was up, showered, dressed and at work. On the fifteen-minute drive, Evarts had been on the phone with the sheriff. He would need to do another interview, but so far, forensics corroborated his testimony. His detectives had heard from the rental company: the driver’s licenses were fake, and they had used prepaid debit cards. By mid-morning, they would know where the debit cards were purchased and interview the retailer. Evarts bet they were bought online, and the purchase funded with an opaque Paypal account. They’d run it to ground, but it would take days. Evarts would prefer to catch the second group of assailants.

After he finished with his detectives, Evarts picked up a cup of coffee and chatted his way over to his office. As he approached, his assistant wordlessly handed Evarts a file folder. In the pocket, there were two paperclipped sets of phone call slips. The first group were journalists. He shoved these to the far edge of his desk. The second set were calls from law enforcement, city administration, or other government officials. He sorted them by importance. He crumpled the top one and threw it in the wastebasket. He had already talked