feeling this vulnerable…again.
Harper had nothing to do with the murder—but even as much as she wanted to clear him—Jess knew she had to take her investigation a step further. She had to hunt down the real killer. Whoever had done this had crossed her path, brutally taken a life, and framed a friend to get away with it.
And that was enough to really piss her off.
Jess left the motel office, knowing she’d hit another dead end. She drove the van from the motel parking lot and pulled onto a dark stretch of road, heading for home. It had been a long day, made worse by the deep exhaustion she felt in her bones and a troubled mind that wouldn’t quit.
She grappled with the horror of the bloodied room, unable to leave it behind.
The smell of violent death had embedded in her nostrils and permeated her clothes. And from the shadows inside the van, images from her past continued to assault her memory. Distant and muffled screams in the middle of the night, a crying child she couldn’t comfort, the heavy footsteps on wood that signaled more terror—all of these memories jutted from the gloom in strobe flashes. An unhealed wound exposed by her traumatized psyche.
With her thoughts scattered, she drove the murky two-lane highway of mostly farm country, barely noticing the yellow center lane whipping by. Switchgrass tossed in the breeze, and countless fence posts were caught in the funnel of pale light cast from her headlights. In the solitude, she let the disturbing surge of emotion settle upon her, an affliction that had grown far too familiar over the years.
Jess tried to distance herself from the past without much luck. To crush the trembles, her hands gripped the steering wheel too tight, her lifeline to the present.
Long ago, she had been encouraged to embrace the tragedy of her childhood as an affirmation of her strength, turning a negative into a positive as if it were that simple. After all, being abducted by a sexual predator and tortured hadn’t killed her, exactly. Surely it must have made her stronger, at least that was what others had told her time and time again.
If she’d survived the ordeal, she could endure and overcome the traumatic memories now. But that meaningless drivel came mostly from the many therapists who had placated her over the years, making her a pet project while she was under foster care with the state of Illinois after her rescue. Eventually, they moved on to other kids and left her to figure it out for herself, leaving her with nothing more than a Band-Aid fix for the equivalent of a hemorrhage to her soul.
In reality, she hated her weakness, something she hadn’t told anyone—not even Sam.
But after a quick glimpse in the rearview mirror, Jess caught something that forced her instincts to take over. A car in the distance. It appeared to be tailing her, staying far enough behind that she’d almost missed it. No headlights. Any normal person would have assumed the idiot had forgotten to flip on his lights, but Jess had developed a paranoid sixth sense over the years.
She hit the accelerator to see if she had company, testing her suspicions. When the car behind her picked up speed to match hers, Jess knew it wasn’t her imagination.
“Great, just great.”
She floored the gas pedal and put the blue monster through its paces, knowing it would be a challenge to stay ahead. Harper’s old van wasn’t built for speed. Jess craned her neck, looking for the lights of the nearest interstate over her shoulder. Making a last-minute decision, she hit the next turn a little too fast.
The tires squealed in protest, and the van lurched.
“Shit!” she cursed under her breath. The sudden move jostled her off the seat, straining the seat belt. But the car behind her kept pace.
Her eyes darted between the dark road ahead and her rearview mirror. She couldn’t see the tag or the make and model of the car, only an occasional glint off the dark windshield.
Safety in numbers, she needed to get to the interstate or a place she could lose her tail. Here in the open, she stood out. And she’d never outrun the guy. If the driver got close enough, he could shoot out a tire, run her off the road, or worse. And defending herself in this remote area would be tough.
“Damn it!” The heft of her Colt Python under her jacket gave her comfort, but not enough.
CHAPTER 7
Once she hit the gas, the car behind her sped up and closed the gap between them—giving deadly chase. Her van hit its limits, but it wasn’t enough. Bumper to bumper, her pursuer had no intention of playing it safe. If she got to the interstate, potential witnesses would complicate matters, and the driver had figured that out. He ramped up his game.
“What the hell…?” She shot a glance toward her mirrors, but the car swerved, not giving her a clear view.
Now the driver swung into the oncoming lane and hit the gas, passing on her left. In the dark, she saw nothing of the man inside, only heavily tinted windows on a dark sedan. She yanked the wheel to cut the bastard off. If he got beside her, he might fire a gun. She’d be a sitting duck.
She spotted the interstate ahead, not more than a few miles.
“Come on. Come on!” She urged the blue monster on, white-knuckling the wheel and keeping an eye on her mirrors.
All she had to do was stay ahead of the jerk. If she got to the freeway, she’d have a chance.
The sedan veered into the other lane again. This time, the driver gained the advantage, pulling alongside her. She clenched her teeth and kept driving, focusing on what lay ahead. A flashing red light marked the intersection of the farm road with the freeway. The entrance ramp was a hard right. She wasn’t sure the blue whale could take it.
“Damn it.”
And worse, she caught motion from the corner of her eye. The bastard was rolling down his window. And from the shadowy interior she saw the murky silhouette of a man raising a weapon. He was going to shoot. And with the turn up ahead, she’d have to slow down, making her an easier target.
“Oh, shit!”
Precious seconds. She had run out of time. Only one option remained.
Jess took a risk. She yanked the steering wheel left and collided with the sedan.
“That’s gonna leave a mark,” she muttered as she hit the brake to slow down.
Jess made the turn onto the entrance ramp, watching over her shoulder as the sedan barreled for a wall, struggling for control. The vehicle scraped the embankment, sending up sparks like a Roman candle on steroids.
Once she got on an open road with streetlights, she took a ragged breath, her nerves catching up. Looking for Desiree had made her a target. But if she wanted to help Seth, she couldn’t stop at the first sign of trouble.
“Damn it, Harper! What the hell did you get into?”
The next morning
“Yeah, I need to speak to Dispatch please.” Jess gulped more lukewarm coffee and rubbed the back of her sore neck. “Yeah, I’ll hold.”
Last night’s car chase had left Jess dealing with a stiff neck and aching muscles. And to add insult to injury, she hadn’t slept at all, not with Harper in jail. For her to catch a few Z’s felt like a complete waste of time and a betrayal of her solidarity with his predicament. And after seeing the remnants of the bloody crime scene, she was afraid the powerful images would stir her own demons.
Sleep had never been much of a friend.
“Dispatch. Arnie here.”
“Hey, Arnie. I was wondering if you could help a girl out.” She told him what she wanted and settled down for a wait after he put her on hold.
