The new book holds a host of new characters. Two favorites from the Dixon-Prince series show up, but they are not the focus. It was fun to see them and have them visit, though. So, aside from Nicole Dixon and Terry Gates, the other characters are all new. It is set back in Hampton in the early 80s, though… 1981-1982, mostly… There are a few other locations that turn up, as well as a couple of other timeframes.

Here is an excerpt…

As soon as Linda mentioned the date, Karen offered to pick Kat and Nicole up at six-thirty.  Nick was supposed to drive them home after skating ended at midnight.  She hurried around to get ready for her date, not wanting to mention it to her girls.  She wondered as she sat down to apply her make-up if it had been because she wanted to shield them, or if she was worried it would get back to Nick. 

She dug through the back of the closet for the dress she was looking for.  She pulled it from the back, behind a bunch of sweaters.  She unzipped it and pulled it on, zipping it back up around her.  It was strapless, with a tight bodice that accentuated her cleavage, falling just above her knees.  The dark navy blue contrasted nicely with both her alabaster skin and her red hair.  She slipped on the matching blue heels over the tan hose.  She checked her make-up one last time. 

Promptly at seven, she heard the doorbell.  She finished putting the few things she was going to carry into the clutch purse and headed down the stairs.  “Sorry, I was just finishing up,” she said as she opened the door. 

“And had I been standing here being whipped by hurricane force winds while being pelted by hail, it would have been worth every second.  Linda, you look simply stunning,” Hugo said, reaching out to take her hand and give it a kiss. 

“Thank you, Hugo.  You are quite dashing.  I loved that suit on you during the photoshoot.”

“Shall we?” he said, extending his arm. 

She slipped her hand into the bend of his arm and let him walk her down the driveway to his pale-yellow Jaguar XJS.  He opened the door for her and held her hand as she slipped into the passenger seat, before strolling around to the driver’s seat. 

“Mandy tells me Raul’s is pretty good.  Have you been there?” Linda sked, making conversation as they drove across the bay.

“Once or twice.  It is quite good.  Their pulpeta is wonderful… it’s like a Cuban meatloaf… and their costillitas… like baby back ribs… are also excellent.  And they have a rum selection like no other.”

“That sounds intriguing,” she replied. 

They pulled up to the restaurant, overlooking the Chesapeake Bay, not far from its confluence with the Atlantic.  The hostess greeted Hugo by name as he entered.  They were soon seated at a small table near the window looking over the water. 

“Would you like a drink?” he asked just before the waitress appeared.  “The lady should have a mojito, and I’ll have a double of Habana Club,” he said to the waitress before she had a chance to respond. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you try mine to see what you think of it,” he told her. 

A moment later the waitress came back with their drinks and set them on the table.  “I’d like an ice water as well,” Linda said quickly before the young woman could disappear again. 

“Do you know what you’d like, lovely Linda?” Hugo said, the bottom of his rum glass making an appearance. 

“I think I do.” 

The waitress showed up with another double of Habana Club rum for Hugo and took their dinner order.  He ordered the Pernil Relleno de Moros y Cristianos white she asked for the pulpeta. 

As soon as the waitress left, he explained that the dish he ordered was a baked, marinated pork shoulder filled with rice and beans.  She told him that it sounded interesting. 

Linda had the opportunity to learn a lot about the real estate business as Hugo told her about the deals he was working on.  He asked her a few questions about her photography experiences but seemed less than intent on listening to her responses. 

Their food was soon at the table, and Linda found hers to be very good.  They continued the conversations as they dined, Hugo mostly talking about the few celebrities he’d sold homes to, while occasionally asking her if she’d photographed anyone famous, or been anywhere exotic. 

“About the most exotic place I’ve been was Cleveland,” she replied. 

The longer dinner dragged on, the more alcohol he consumed, and the less interesting the conversation became.  They moved past talking about real estate to politics… which she always tried to avoid but found his take on Washington to be much less than entertaining. 

“Would you like a dessert?” the waitress asked, their dinner complete.

“Flan,” Hugo blurted out, falling silent after. 

“I might as well try the churros.  Are those good?” she asked the waitress.

“You are going to love them.  Would you like another drink?” she asked noticing that Linda had finished her first mojito.  “Actually, a Coke would be great.”

She returned a few minutes later with the two desserts and Linda’s Coke. 

After dessert, Hugo asked her if she would like to visit a small pub just a few doors away. 

“Hugo, I already think you might have had too much to drink in order to drive… is a pub a good idea?” she asked.  

“Tell you what… if you go to the pub with me, you can drive us back.  Can you drive a manual?”

“Yes, my car has a stick,” Linda replied.  She glanced at her watch; it was a little after nine-thirty. 

Hugo dropped a few bills on the check.  She glanced quickly while he was distracted and dropped a couple more to make sure the tip was appropriate.  As they walked through the front door, she had to put her arm around him to steady him for the walk to the bar down the street.  But he was right when he said it was only a few doors away. 

“Hi, Hugo,” the woman at the door said, giving Linda the once over. 

“Delores…  This is my date.  Linda.  She’s a photographer,” he replied. 

Delores led them to a small booth.  Hugo slipped into one side and Linda the other.  “Friend of yours?” Linda said as the woman walked away. 

“My ex,” Hugo said, slurring generously.  “After my divorce.”

“That’s too bad,” Linda said. 

A waitress appeared a moment later.  “A pair of rum and Cokes,” Hugo said, raising his arm for dramatic effect. 

She looked at Linda, who nodded back. 

A moment after the waitress left, Linda slipped out of the booth, “I need to run to the powder room.  I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I hate for you to leave, but I’m going to love watching you walk away,” he leered in response. 

Linda made her way toward the restroom, catching the waitress on the way.  “On my rum and Coke, could you make that a diet Coke and hold the rum… but please, put it in the same kind of glass as his.  I need to drive.” 

“No problem, ma’am.  I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks,” Linda said before slipping off to the restroom. 

She was looking in the mirror, checking her make-up, when the woman from the door, Delores, walked in.  She was wearing the same style short skirt and open-necked blouse as the waitress, so Linda assumed it was a uniform.  She was quite pretty, long legs, slender, busty and long dark hair.  Not terribly different from her, aside from the hair color. 

“Hugo isn’t a bad guy,” she said, stepping up next to Linda at the mirror. 

“I’m sure he isn’t,” Linda replied. 

“You aren’t going to let him drive, are you?”

“No.  I agreed to come down here for one drink if he let me drive home,” Linda said, a tight smile on her face. 

“Good.  I’ll give you a hand with him when you are ready to leave.  I’m sorry.”  She looked at Linda, her eyes sad. 

“Nothing to be sorry for, Delores.  My name is Linda, by the way… I guess he did introduce me.”

Delores put her hand out to shake.  “I am really glad to meet you.”

“You, too.” Linda said, heading back out to the table.  She glanced at her watch; it was ten-fifteen. 

A moment after she sat down, the waitress set their drinks in front of them, two straws in Linda’s.  “I changed it to diet, like you asked,” she said. 

“Thanks.  A girl has to watch her figure,” Linda smiled. 

“I’m happy to watch yours,” Hugo said, staring at her chest. 

Linda took a breath, then took half of her drink down in one gulp.  “Hugo, we need to leave soon.  I need to get home before my girls get there.” 

“Ok, fine.  Let’s go get my Jag, and I’ll drive you home.”

“Remember the deal?  I came here with you, but I was driving home.  You’ve had a little too much to drink.”

“My car has a clutch, though.  You can’t drive a clutch, can you?”

“I can, and I will,” Linda replied. 

“Oh,” he said, leaving his lips pursed in an o. 

She helped him slide out of the booth and walked him to the front of the bar.  “Give me the keys and I’ll walk down and get the car, ok?”

“Hi, Hugo, we can talk for a minute while she gets the car, ok?” Delores said, appearing by his other side and steadying him. 

Hugo dug in his pockets and pulled out a key fob.  “Can you drive a stick… you’re just a pretty girl?”

“Yes, Hugo, I can,” she replied, as if she were talking with a toddler. 

Linda took the key fob from his hand and left him leaning against a post with Delores.  She kept him distracted as Linda walked the half a block back to where the car was parked.  She slipped into the driver’s seat and headed back to the bar.  Pulling up to the curb, Delores poured Hugo into the passenger seat and deftly secured him in his seatbelt. 

“Be safe,” Delores said, closing the door.  She came around to the other side of the car.  “Here’s his address,” she said, slipping Linda a piece of paper.  Do you know how to get there?”

She looked at the address.  She knew almost exactly where it was.  She’d done a photoshoot next door.  She nodded to the other woman and smiled before rolling the window back up and pulling away from the curb. 

“I want to make love to you all night long, Linda,” Hugo said as they drove.  A moment later he was snoring.  She was thankful he was asleep.  It gave her a chance to think.  She strategized her course of action. 

Linda pulled his car into his garage.  She thumbed the remote to close the door, then climbed out of the driver’s seat, her dress sliding up her thighs as she moved across the seat. 

“I want to kiss every inch of you,” he slurred as he gazed at her thighs. 

She walked around to the passenger side, having to almost lift him from the seat.  He could barely support his own weight.  She slipped his arm over her shoulder and hefted him through the door and into his mudroom, then his kitchen.  She dropped the keys on the counter and carried him toward the stairs.  Glancing at the clock, she saw it was eleven-forty-five. 

She got him to his bedroom and dropped him on the bed.  She took off his shoes, lifted his legs onto the bed and headed back to the kitchen.  Please be home, Mandy, she said to herself. 

In the kitchen she dialed the phone on the wall.  It rang seven or eight times… unanswered. 

“It’s on your shirt…  Come on, Steve.  It’ll be worth your while.” 

The chopper swooped low around the diesel side of the truck stop, swinging around for another pass. 

“I’m in the red Kenworth.”

Colt watched the helicopter disappear for a moment behind the building, then smacked Callie on the butt and followed her out to the truck.  They climbed up into the cab, closing the door barely before the helicopter came back in view.  Steve climbed in the other side a moment later and fired up the big rig. 

Colt dug in his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash.  He peeled off five one-hundred-dollar bills and set them on the dash. 

“You guys still use CBs, Steve?”  He nodded.  “Can you ask if anyone saw the man and woman running at the back of the lot?”

Steve picked up the CB and did as requested.  Then sent a text from his phone real fast.  A moment later two other truckers confirmed the fleeing man and woman on the other side of the parking lot. 

“You’re a good man, Steve,” Colt said, peeling off a couple more bills. 

“Can I ask what you guys did?” Steve said.

“Ran across the goods on drug traffickers.  You don’t know me, but I promise that you are helping on the right side,” he told the trucker. 

Colt pulled is phone out and tapped the screen. 

…

“We are on the way.  We picked up a ride in an eighteen-wheeler out of a truck stop.  ATS near Dorrance.”

…

“My car is still there.  My buddy Steve, here, even helped divert them for a few minutes by making them think we were on foot going the other way.”

…

“Roger that.  And I don’t see any pursuit yet.”

“Who’s he talking to,” Steve asked Callie.

“The agency he works for.  He’s my bodyguard and we were going to a safe house,” she replied, figuring it was the easiest way to answer. 

Steve nodded, even though he doubted her story.  It sounded to contrived to him. 

***

Two and a half hours later, they were approaching Kanorado, Kansas, just before the state line.  Steve had gotten a lot more comfortable with Colt and Callie, and they were more comfortable with him.  Colt definitely had his new friend on the nice list and planned to do something to reward him. 

“Colt, I have you approaching the exit for County Road 3,” came the calm female voice over his phone and the earpiece. 

“Roger that, Control.  Is there a reception for us?”

“Affirmative.”

Steve took the hint since he could hear the conversation and put on his blinker to take the exit.  It was just after sunset, the sun no longer hitting them in the face as they pulled off the interstate onto the county road. 

“Right off the ramp, then right at County BB,” she said. 

A few minutes later the truck rolled to a stop outside of a barn, the yard littered with old farm equipment.  A pair of flashes lit them, then one more. 

“Steve, this is our stop.  Thanks, man, I appreciate it.  If you need me, just call.  I left a card on the seat,” Colt said, helping Callie climb down. 

As the big rig pulled away, Colt and Callie walked toward the barn.  One of the security guys waved them over and clasped hands with Colt as he and Callie stepped behind the bales the rest of the team was using for cover. 

“Miss Green, Colt, we’re your ride.  Our vehicle is right over there,” he said, pointing toward the barn.  A flat black Excursion rolled from the barn; it’s lights off.  “We’re about fifteen minutes from our LZ.”

“Hopefully, we are in the clear.  That pursuit was a surprise.”

They loaded up in the big truck and pulled out of the yard they were in, turning away from the highway, going north.  Tank, the leader of the escort team, let them know that they had flown into a crop duster strip a little north of their position. 

They settled back for the easy ride.  Two miles later a dump truck slammed into the front quarter of the vehicle as they passed a crossroad.  It had been running with its lights off, and even with minimal obstruction of the view, nobody had seen it until it was too late. 

“Colt, there’s traffic ahead,” Callie said nervously, her head swiveling between looking back for the cars that were chasing them and looking ahead at the road.  “Can we outrun them?”

“Not like this.  We can almost go faster than the chopper, but anything slowing us down means they’ll catch up.  And at this speed, even without traffic, we’ll be out of gas before they are out of sight.  Grab that little bag between the seats,” he directed her. 

She reached back and picked up a small pack that was between the front and back seats.  She unzipped it and pulled out the radio inside.  Colt told her to snap open the cover on the back and he slipped the earpiece in his ear.  She tapped the radio icon on his phone. 

“This is control.  What’s going on, Colt?” came the reply from a female voice a moment later through both the phone speaker and the earpiece. 

“We are on I-70 in central Kansas, past Salina, being chased by air and ground units,” he replied. 

“Is it local law enforcement?” 

“Negative,” Colt replied.  “A ground unit started by tapping me in the tail.”

“Confirmed,” the woman said.  “There is no radio traffic from Kansas State Police or local department in that area about a high-speed chase.  Can you evade?”

“Not for long,” Colt said as the car whizzed past several vehicles in the right lane.  “Fuel will only hold out for twenty minutes, tops.  That’s if we don’t get slowed by traffic.  I am faster, but not fast enough to get out of his sight.”

“Roger that, Colt.  Notifying Mustang and seeing if we have any assets in the area.”

Callie looked over at her boyfriend.  She watched him concentrate on the road.  Every bump and uneven spot put the car on edge.  He and his father had modified the car to be able to run fast, and it had been on the track, but in the end, it was never designed to go flat out for miles and miles.  One wrong move could kill them.

“I believe in you, Colt,” Callie said. 

“I’ll do my best to be worthy of your trust, Callie.  I love you,” he replied. 

“Two hours is the best I can do, Colt.  That is for an intercept team.  They will be in the air in five minutes.”

“Let me see if we can shake them,” Colt replied.  “We’ll try to plan for an exfil closer to the Colorado state line.”

Copy that.  I’ll send them that way.”

“What are you planning, Colt?” Callie asked. 

“We need a big truck stop.  See any billboards?”

There was a big truck stop coming up in a couple of miles.  As they approached, Colt jumped on the brakes, hauling the car down to a reasonable speed.  The helicopter swooped over them as he made the turn into the truck stop, pulling into a parking space. 

“We have about two minutes to find a ride out of here before their goons show up,” Colt said, tossing her a hat and jacket, while he picked up one for himself. 

He led her up to the cash register and paid for everything, then turned and watched for a minute. 

“Hey, Steve,” he said to a large trucker that was getting ready to walk out to his truck.  “My girlfriend and I are in a jam.  Can you give us a ride to the Colorado line?  I’ll give you five hundred bucks.” 

“Cops after you?” 

“Sir, I don’t know if he is here or not.  There is one girl here that seems a little out of place, and I might have seen her at the school.  She could be his date.  But I can’t say that I’ve seen Paul Murphy.  And we’ve had pretty good eyes on the cars coming in.  All are local,” Jenkins told her boss.

“How many people are there?” Bill asked.

“Probably about three dozen, give or take.  And there has been a turn-over, so there might be fifty different people that have been here at some point or are here now.  Without knowing more about how he currently looks, it’s tough.  And, of course, everyone is in costume.”

“Keep up the good work, Melody.  We don’t even know that he’s here.”

“Roger that, Sir.”

She kept up her watch.  She scanned the rooms with binoculars.  She was sure that she’d seen the girl in the tight black dress before… in her mind she called her Morticia.  She thought her date was Zorro, but Riley, dressed as Davy Crockett, had been hitting on her pretty hard.  Morticia didn’t seem to be interested… she had to be with Zorro. 

After watching the house for an hour, she decided that if anyone in the house were Paul Murphy, it had to be Zorro.  And she needed to figure out how to keep an eye on him.

She called out to the front team, “Do you know what car Zorro came in?”

“Big blue Bronco.  Came with a sexy little chick in a black dress.  Butt-wipe didn’t even help her down from his truck.  She just shimmied down.  I thought she was going to end up on her ass,” Billings replied. 

It was more information than she’d asked for, but it was also helpful.  She felt that her feeling was becoming a hunch. 

“If he leaves, call me.  I want to pick up coverage on him and see what he does.  If you have to leave station to get me on him, you can do that.”

“Roger that, ma’am,” he replied.  He was a little resentful that she had become the teacher’s pet, but she had pulled a couple of really good leads out of nothing. 

Melody Jenkins kept up the watch, then noticed that Zorro and Morticia disappeared for a little while from the living room.  She thought she saw movement in one of the upstairs bedrooms but couldn’t be sure.  Even if there was movement, that didn’t mean it was Paul.  She was pretty sure that was his bedroom, though.  She wanted to call in a capture team, but if she was wrong, it would be a huge problem. 

After about twenty minutes, the couple reappeared in the living room, then looked like they might be getting ready to leave.  Morticia went into the bathroom and Zorro went into the kitchen… probably to grab another round of snacks. 

Melody decided to change position so that she could get to her car faster if needed.  Just a couple of minutes later the call came from the front team.  “Jenkins, Zorro is on the move.  Morticia looks a little wasted, though.  I think he is going to have to pour her into the passenger seat.  Let me know if you need me to pursue.”

“I think I have it.  I’m getting in my vehicle as we speak.”

A couple of minutes later the Bronco drove past the street she was on.  She pulled away from her stop sign and dropped in behind it.  “I have the target in sight, Billings.  I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

She followed the Bronco through downtown Hampton, and it turned headed in the direction of the Prince house.  There were still a lot of other places it could go, but her gut was screaming at her to call the boss.

“Boss, you on freq?” she asked.

“Go, Melody.  I’m here,” he replied. 

“Bill, I’m behind a vehicle that my gut tells me is Murphy.  We are on Kecoughtan headed south, just passing the river and coming up on Sunset.  I think he is headed toward you, sir.  I’m not a hundred percent sure it’s him, though.”

“I trust your gut, Jenkins.  I’ll take steps.  Keep me in the loop.”

Bill Prince called out to his wife, “Call Sharon.  Get Ed over here.  Tell him to ‘dress.’  Stay in the house.  Lock the doors.”

“Bill, you’re scaring me.  What’s going on.”

“I don’t want you to be scared, but you need to be on edge.  Grab your weapon and don’t be afraid to shoot if needed.  Turn on the lights so you can identify your target and stay away from windows and out of sight.”

Bill jogged out the front door and around the corner to the Caprice he had parked there.  He had a vest in the trunk, as well as a few weapons locked in a special safe.  He grabbed his gear and headed back toward his house.  He was keeping an eye on the street between his house and the Moody’s, watching for a vehicle. 

“Bill?” came the call on the radio.

“Go, Melody.  What do you have for me?”

“Lifted blue Bronco.  We’re on Clyde by Bay Avenue.”

“Copy that.  Drop if you need to.  I’ll pick him up and you can come in the other way.  If you are right, it’s less likely to spook him, and if you are wrong, it won’t matter.”

“Copy, sir.”

She followed another block, then turned off to pick up a parallel street.