Chapter 39His Glock reloaded and a couple of extra clips in his pocket, Lumbergh glared through the windshield of the speeding sedan. His face was taut as the vehicle exited off I-15, tires screeching with the merge onto a frontage road that ran parallel. Picking up speed again, he watched for the next road sign.
“You sure you’re going to be able to fire that weapon?” asked Holman from the driver’s seat, glancing in the mirror at the police cruiser, lights blazing, following closely behind them. A body-armor vest over her shirt came into view from a passing street lamp.
“Jacobs spotted me some Tylenol,” said Lumbergh, a wet towel wrapped around ice between his bandaged fingers. He was wearing a similar vest.
“Oh, that ought to do it,” Holman said dryly.
“I’ll be fine,” said Lumbergh. “
