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dead.

He loved an efficient police force. Unfortunately, he couldn’t bank on one when he arrived. Nor a large one. Solvang, as a small tourist town, had a force of eleven officers and only three squad cars, including Prentice’s cruiser. He assumed that the entire force had been called in to deal with flood victims. Sheriff Lopez might have called for outside help, but more likely he would have asked for rescue workers, not law enforcement. So Prentice was outnumbered and outgunned. Evarts also doubted that any Solvang officer had ever been involved in an active shooting. The gangbangers probably had. This would be a test of training versus experience. He called Prentice.

“Chief, I’m five minutes out,” Evarts said when he answered. “What’s your situation?”

“We’re out. In squad cars and heading toward Alisal Drive. Two officers wounded … breaking out of my own damned station for god’s sake. Two perps down—permanently.”

“Anything else I should be aware of?”

“Unless you’re eager to get shot at, don’t come in hot. Stay on the … hold it … we’re pulling into Hotel Corque … seems to be some kind of ruckus going on. Holy shit! Shots fired!”

The line went dead.

Evarts pushed his Interceptor Utility to the ragged edge of safe.

Chapter 30

Waist deep in water, Smith and Jemmy finally got the trailer unhooked from the tractor. Baldwin had stood behind them, holding a flashlight pointed at the back end of the cab, but it had still been a struggle because the hitch was below the water level. They’d needed to work by feel. When they climbed back into the cab, they shed so much water that pools formed on the floorboard, and Baldwin got her bench-seat companions wet. She wondered if she would dry off before she had to wade into the elements again.

Jemmy started the diesel engine, causing the cab to shudder before the motor settled down to a comfortable vibration.

“Okay, let’s see if this baby will still roll down the highway,” Jemmy said.

At first, they barely moved forward, but gradually the tractor picked up speed until they moved along at eight miles an hour. Nobody said a word. Nobody breathed. Baldwin suspected that she was not alone in having her fingers crossed. After a couple of hundred yards of progress, Baldwin participated in a communal exhale. Damn, it felt good to move.

Baldwin turned in her seat to look at Wilson. “Have you found a reason for this extra water?”

Wilson said, “Only one possibility. Otherwise, I’m an idiot and terrible at my job.”

“Go on,” Baldwin prompted.

“Another dam broke. Probably Shasta or Folsom. Both have enough water to cause this.”

“Do you have Sirius/XM?” Smith asked Jemmy.

“Hell, I don’t know. You forget, this ain’t my rig. Look for yourself.”

Baldwin wondered if Jemmy even knew Sirius/XM was satellite radio.

Smith found an XM option on the radio and turned it on. The talk channels broadcast headline news on the hour, but he found a 24/7 headline service and turned up the sound. They listened to snippets of political, financial, and international news before the broadcast recycled to the beginning.

“And now for our top news story of the day. In California, when it rains it pours. A record-breaking series of storms have hit California, so far dropping over twenty-six inches of rain with no relief in sight. The dam at Folsom Lake collapsed, making it the third of the state’s more than one thousand reservoirs to fail. Fortunately, state agencies had already evacuated the area below the dam, so there has been no additional loss of life. Property damage, however, is estimated to exceed two hundred million dollars. More alarming, the California Department of Water Resources has directed all state dams to open their spillways to preclude additional failures. This additional water is merging with the storm runoff to flood many districts of the state. Sacramento is currently reported to be under four feet of water, with more on the way. And in other news—”

Baldwin flipped the radio off.

“She got Folsom right,” Ashley said. “I knew you were not an idiot or terrible at your job.”

“Great call, Sherrell.” Baldwin tapped her fingernail on a Formica shelf that extended out for eating. “Do you think they followed our advice about opening the spillways?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Smith said from up front. “If it works, they saved the day, and if it doesn’t, we already laid our heads on the chopping block.”

“What matters,” Wilson said, “is that my model works, which means that we can run various scenarios and see what will happen. We have a tool to mitigate this disaster.”

“What are you talkin’ ’bout?” Jemmy asked.

“We’re scientists,” Smith said. “We’ve been telling the governor’s office that they should drain the dams, and it looks like that’s exactly what they’re doing.”

“Oh, great,” Jemmy said, but he didn’t sound like he thought it was great. “You may have killed us with that stupid idea.”

“Nope,” Wilson said. “We just passed the low point. We’re ascending from this point forward.” She smiled. “We’re going to make it.”

“Maybe,” Jemmy said. “Remember, I get paid for gettin’ you to Oakland. You get yourself across the bay. But … come to think of it, I don’t want this tractor anywhere near where I get out. You can take it to the BART station parkin’ lot.”

“Do you have family in Oakland?” Wilson asked.

“Family? Hell, no. It’s only my home for a while. I got fights in Oakland. One tomorrow night.” He gleefully pounded the steering wheel a couple of times. “Gonna make some heavy cash.” He once again punctuated his sentence with a laugh. “By the way, how ’bout that money for the truckin’ tuition?”

“You are not going to hold us to that, are you?” Ashley asked.

“Hell, yeah. And if your friend here reaches for that pistol in his waistband, I’ll break both his arms. Got that, cowboy?”

“No need,” Baldwin said. “I’ll write you a check once you deliver us intact to Oakland.”

“Obliged, ma’am,” Jemmy said. “I got a hard fight comin’ up, and I want well rid of

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