Not that the old guy was going to survive no matter what she did. Once Sam had an idea in his head . . .

The car approached an overpass. A moving van barreled toward them in the other lane, its high-mounted headlights glaring through the windshield. Just as they hit the end of the bridge, the van swerved toward the police car. With a crash and a groan of metal, the police car slid off the embankment. Mick’s body slammed against the seat belt. The deputy grabbed the radio, but the car jerked, and he dropped the receiver.

The car bounced. Mick lost perspective as the world slammed. The vehicle came to a stop. He hung forward, his weight shifted, the seat belt digging into his chest and collarbone. With his hands cuffed behind his back, he hung helpless. The pressure of the strap across his chest forced him to take shallow breaths.

The deputy grabbed the mic on his uniform and called for assistance.

“Shit. You all right, Steve?” the deputy in the passenger seat asked.

“I’m good.” The driver unsnapped his seat belt. Turning on the interior light, he glanced in the back. “You alive, Arnette?”

Mick didn’t answer. Fuck that cop. Let him crawl back here and find out.

A figure appeared next to Mick’s head. A man leaned down to look into the window. With the light in the vehicle and the darkness outside, it took Mick a second to realize it was his brother. A long-sleeve jacket covered his tatted arms and the bandage on his bicep where he’d been grazed by the cop’s bullet. Combined with a pair of khaki pants, his new look was electronic-store salesman.

“Hey, are you guys OK?” he asked the cops, then pointed a gun through the broken passenger window. Two gunshots echoed in the car as he put a bullet into each cop’s head. Mick flinched. Blood splattered the interior. Sam fired two more shots. Making sure the cops were dead, or just for fun?

His brother leaned into the rear compartment, a knife in his hand. He flicked his wrist and cut the seat belt.

Mick fell forward. “I’m glad to see you.”

“You didn’t think I’d let them take you away?” Sam caught him, his hands gentle.

“Of course not.” Mick should have known his brother would come after him.

Sam leaned into the front of the vehicle and searched the cops until he found a handcuff key. The back door wouldn’t open, so he released Mick’s hands and helped him wriggle out the broken window.

“Did they radio for help?”

“Tried.” Mick coughed. “Not sure if they got through.”