would never be friends, but we'd moved from barbed insults to droll comments, and from dislike to companionable trust. She was also damn good at her job - my old job - and had saved my ass on more than one occasion.
"You say that with such conviction that I almost believe you," I replied, voice dry. "Want to do me a favor?"
"Oh, I live for such moments."
In other words, she was bored shitless and could use something to do. Either that or she was on her lunch break. And like most vampires working for the Directorate in a capacity other than as a guardian, she tended to restrict her feeding to the times she was off duty, which left her with spare time during breaks. Me, I'd be heading out to shop, but as a vamp, Sal didn't have that option.
"You want to pinpoint my location with the satellites and grab the plate number of the red Mazda three cars back?"
"And why would we be doing this?"
I could hear keys tapping, so she was setting the satellites into motion even as she questioned me. "Because I think it's following me."
"Did you pick him up before or after your visit to the crime scene?"
"After. I couldn't say if he was tailing me from the moment I left the park or not, though." I really hadn't been paying that much attention - although I wasn't about to admit that to Sal. She'd only tell Jack, and he'd probably blast me for not showing good guardian form.
As if I ever had.
"While the satellite is lining up," I added, "have you had any luck with the search I requested?"
"There's one hundred and fifty cars so far with a plate starting with BUK." Her voice was dry. "At least twentythree of those are Toyotas. It's a proverbial needle in a haystack right now."
But it was a haystack that Jack would still want searched. "It might be worth cross-checking whether any of those Toyotas belong to the family of whoever Johnson murdered."
"You think it's a vengeance kill?"
"It sure as hell smelled like it."
"Well, all I can say is the bastard probably deserved it. They don't slap you in jail for that long without good reason." She paused, then added, "Okay, I have a fix. I'll trace the plate, if you like."
"I like."
I flicked another glance in the rearview, then changed lanes again. The red Mazda didn't move, remaining obstinately in its own lane. But the distance between us neither increased nor decreased.
"The car belongs to one Irene Gardener, who lives in Melton." Sal paused. "She's a little old lady of seventyfive, and there are no reports of it being stolen or anything."
"Meaning I'm being alarmist over nothing."
"Well, unless she's a seventy-five-year-old who's taken up following people, then I'd have to say yes." She paused. "Then again, she might not know the car is even missing yet. Might be worth trying to shake the Mazda, just to see what happens."
I couldn't help grinning. "And if I crash, I can always say you told me to do it."
She snorted. "This conversation is not being recorded, and I will deny it ever happened."
"Right. Thanks, Sal."
I flicked off the com-link and cruised along the freeway for several minutes, doing nothing other than watching the traffic and the annoying red car behind me.
Then a long semi-trailer came into view. Perfect, I thought, and pulled out into the other lane, keeping my speed even as I passed the truck. A glance in the mirror showed that the Mazda remained where it was. I pulled in front of the truck, then hit the gas. The big car surged forward, the speedometer rising. I didn't slow as the traffic increased, weaving in and out with a precision that would have surprised anyone who knew my driving record. The Western Ring Road overpass came into view. Ignoring the lights, I swung onto the on ramp and roared up into the traffic, using the emergency lane for several minutes before cutting into a gap between a truck and a cab. A quick glance in the mirror didn't reveal a familiar red shadow, but I cut across to the Boundary Road exit anyway, only slowing once I'd swung left - tires squealing - onto Fairbairn Road.
No red car.
I was safe.
I blew out a relieved breath and was surprised to discover that my hands were shaking again. I flexed my fingers against the steering wheel and wondered briefly if Kye's warning was nothing more than a way to