L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
Now he was free and up to ninety miles an hour. He saw the bike make the curve to the right. By the time he got to the turn, he was in the wrong lane again, signaling for a left turn onto U.S. 1. He made the corner with a great screeching of tires and saw two cop cars blocking the bridge. The motorcycle was on the sidewalk, getting past them.
“Shit!” Dino yelled, slamming on his brakes. He held his badge out the window, blowing his horn, but he had to come to a complete stop. “That’s the guy!” he yelled at the two policemen, who were watching the motorcycle disappear down the road. The cops dived into their cars and got them turned around, then Dino was bringing up the rear of a procession, as the two police cars headed up U.S. 1.
“Tommy,” Dino yelled into the phone, “the bike got past the cops on the bridge, and he’s headed north.” Then, as they passed a wide street forking to the right, Dino thought he caught a glimpse of a motorcycle down that road, turning a corner. He put his car into a four-wheel drift and made the fork. What the hell, he thought, the cops have got the main road covered.
Dino was still driving fast, but he slowed at every corner, looking for the motorcycle. Then, a quarter-mile down the road, he saw it, lying on its side in the gutter. Two small boys were standing over it, looking at it. Dino slammed on his brakes, reversed and turned into the street.
He got out of the car and ran over to the motorcycle, which was still running. That, he supposed, was what was fascinating the two boys. “Kids,” he said breathlessly, “did you see the rider get off?”
They both nodded.
“Which way did he go?”
They pointed down the street.
“Is he on foot?”
“Naw,” one of the kids said. “He got in a car and drove off.” He pointed at the rubber the man had left behind.
“Straight down the road?”
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S t u a r t W o o d s
“Naw, he turned that way at the corner,” the boy said, pointing right.
“What kind of car?”
“Ford,” one kid said.
“Toyota,” the other said. They began to argue.
“Shut up!” Dino said. “What color?”
“Black,” one said.
“Green,” the other said.
“Shit,” Dino muttered to himself, running back to his car.
“Tommy,” he said into the phone, “you still there?”
“Yeah,” Tommy said.
“The bike took a right at a fork in the road.”
“I know where that is.”
“He took another right, abandoned the bike and took off in a car, turned right at the next corner. He could be headed back toward Key West.”
“Holy shit!” Tommy yelled. “Call you back.”
Dino went back to the motorcycle and turned it off. There was a long leather scabbard buckled to a knee guard. His phone rang.
“Yeah?”