Free Pursuit by Gene Hackman Page A

the window.
    Julie tried to put things together. A sketchy recollection of a truck, a guy.
    â€œYou were forced off the road and—”
    â€œWait, wait. I got it.” She sat up in her bed as Todd came back to the chair. “Some clown followed me, then pushed and forced me into a ditch or something, right?”
    Todd seemed amused. “Yeah, go on.”
    â€œYou’re a prick, you know that? We were going on a case, in separate cars.”
    Todd held up his hand. “We were going to lunch, in separate cars.”
    Now she had it. The guy in the pickup followed her.
    â€œThe kid who owned the truck had a perfect alibi.” Todd’s voice soothed her. “He was on a flight from Chicago, parked in the airport lot, it all checked out. He put his parking stub in his overhead visor, typical—”
    â€œThe guy tried to kill me, Todd.”
    â€œHow do you figure?”
    â€œHe came up too close behind me. When I signaled him by, he dropped back instead.”
    â€œWonder why?”
    â€œThat bastard, ’cause we were coming up on that little farming burg. Ah, what the heck’s the name.” She’d gone blank again. “He waited until I sped up. I drifted off, thinking about lunch or something.”
    â€œDid you recognize him? Maybe some guy we busted holding a grudge, disgruntled con, anything?”
    Julie’s memory played tricks on her. She didn’t know if she should mention the face in the window. And was there a gun? “Who was the first one there?”
    â€œPeople were standing around looking at your car.There was an EMT guy, but I would say I was the first one down next to you in your vehicle.”
    Julie thought about the man with the baseball cap. “You see anything around the car, like wet footprints?”
    â€œNah, it was all torn up. Mud, glass.”
    She still saw his image in her rearview mirror. “He came down and looked into, I think, the side window. That water from the ditch soaked his trousers. Did you hold my head out of the water?”
    Todd nodded. “Yes.”
    â€œI was somewhat cockheaded trying to keep my nose above water, but he looked at me and grinned.” She sighed, looking at all the dressings on her. “We need a good sketch artist.”
    â€œHow much longer are you going to be in here?”
    â€œNot long, I hope.”
    â€œI’m going to bring that fellow—you know, the fat one that works for the county. You guys see if you can come up with an image. You sure about this being deliberate?”
    â€œPositive.”
    â€œI’ll be back with him later today.” Todd got up to leave. “Glad you’re back among the living.” He shuffled out as if there were more he wanted to say.
    Todd was a good man. Too young for serious consideration, but still a heck of a guy.

A day nurse stage whispered from the door. “You have a visitor. It’s after hours, but I’ll bend the rules. Plus, he looks important. Keep it short, okay?”
    Captain Walker appeared in the doorway. “How’s our budding race car driver doing?”
    â€œI’ll let you know in a week or so,” Julie said, smiling. “No broken bones, slight concussion, a few scrapes. Aggravated my leg again. Nothing too serious. Thanks for dropping by, Captain.”
    â€œCan’t stay long, I came up yesterday morning, but you were out cold.” He removed his hat. “I’ve got a couple people checking your past cases. Devlin told me both of you discussed whether this scumbag driver might have been a guy you had arrested. Did the sketch artist come up with anything?”
    Julie shrugged. “We got an image of a guy in a cap and dark glasses with a shit-eating grin. Looks like a couple dozen guys I see every day.”
    Walker took a couple paces across the room and then back. “We find this guy, there’s gonna be some serious asskicking. You need anything?