The rain picked up to a heavier downpour. It washed over the windshield between the swift flicks of the wipers. The stolen car slowed, and so did Talon, drawing up less than a block from her brake lights.
“Stay as close as you can without spooking her,” I said. “We don’t want to lose her. As soon as she stops, we have to be on her ass.”
Even as I spoke, the woman took a sudden left turn. Talon fell back a little before following her. Two blocks later, she took an abrupt right. She hadn’t signaled either time.
Blaze spoke up cautiously. “Are we sure she hasn’t already gotten spooked? Did she see you before she grabbed the car?”
“We were too far back,” I said. “I made sure she didn’t see us—I hadn’t expected her to take off that quickly.”
“She was going straight ahead until a minute ago,” Talon pointed out.
The stolen car veered through a gas station’s lot and out the other side. Talon gunned the engine to hurtle after her.
Garrison folded his arms over his chest. “This is ridiculous. We should force her to pull over now instead of chasing her all over town.”
If we’d already been made, that was our best course of action. I exhaled roughly, and just then, one of the parked cars along the curb swerved into the street in front of our target.
Too fast, too close. The woman must have pulled hard on the steering wheel to avoid crashing into the other car, and the slick surface of the road sent her vehicle skidding. It careened across the road and rammed hood-first into a telephone pole. The screech of crumpling steel cut through the drumming of the rain on our roof.