He looked in the rearview mirror to make sure Schmidt’s headlights were still steady behind him. “You’re made of sterner stuff than Schmidt.”
“I really felt sorry for him when he got sick on his shoe. Do you think he gets a bonus for that sort of thing? You know, hazardous duty?”
“It was his own fault. He ate nine hot dogs today.”
“It’s hard to believe we’re going back to a house that’s been firebombed. It seems like it happened years ago.”
Steve reached over for her hand. “You have to be careful for a while.”
Good advice, she decided. She had to be careful about lots of things. Steve Crow was at the head of the list. He was a hard man to resist, especially when she didn’t want to resist in the first place. The truth is, she’d like nothing better than to go home and crawl into his bed for the night. Unfortunately, her little brother was underfoot. He was at an impressionable age, and she had no intention of setting a bad example for him. Her parents were due home at the end of the week, and she was almost done with her thesis. If she could just hang on a little bit longer…
If she hadn’t been so lost in thought, she might have seen the car pull alongside. As it was, the first collision came as a shock. She felt herself jerked against the seat belt, heard the impact against the passenger-side door. Her hands reached out to the dash. Her mouth opened to scream.
Beside her Steve swore and fought to keep the car from veering into the median guardrail. They were on Interstate 95, outside of Woodbridge, and traffic was moder-ate-enough cars that a driver had to be aware, not so many cars that it was impossible to get run off the road. The car came at them again, and Daisy could hear the throaty roar of the V-8 as it pulled alongside. It was an old Cadillac, bigger and heavier than the SUV, and she realized the driver was jockeying for another hit.
Daisy instinctively moved left to be away from the door, her heart beating a painful staccato in her chest, her lungs burning with each breath. She turned to see if Schmidt was still behind them, but panic blurred her vision.
“What the devil’s going on?” Elsie said, coming awake.
The car rammed them again, this time forcing them into the cement abutment that divided the highway, and there was the sickening sound of metal being ripped away before Steve was able to regain control.
“You son of a dog!” Elsie shouted at the Cadillac. “You got a lot of nerve waking me up.” The SUV reverberated with a blast from Elsie’s forty-five. The side window shattered, and Elsie knocked the rest of the glass out with the barrel of the gun. “Don’t lose him,” she said to Steve. “I might not have got him good enough with that one. I don’t usually aim for cars.” She leaned out the window and blasted away.
The Cadillac took off, weaving across a lane of traffic. Schmidt was close behind with a portable flasher clipped to his roof.
“He’ll never catch him,” Elsie said, settling back in her seat. “That guy’s got a Caddie, just like mine. You can’t beat them Cadillacs.”
Schmidt’s replacement was waiting for them when they pulled into Steve’s driveway. “Looks like you’ve been in the demolition derby,” he said to Steve.
“Had a little problem on the way home.”
The man nodded. “I just spoke to Schmidt. They lost the guy at the Route 1 exit.”
“I’m not surprised,” Elsie said. “He was driving a Cadillac.”
“It was probably stolen,” the detective said.
“We got a make on it. Belongs to someone named Elsie Hawkins.”
There was dead silence while everyone turned to look at the curb where Elsie’s Cadillac had been parked.
“If that don’t beat all,” Elsie said. “I’ve been shooting at my own car. I thought it looked familiar.”
Steve thought stealing Elsie’s car to run Daisy off the road showed a certain amount of creativity and a definite flare for the dramatic. It was almost as if this guy wanted publicity.
“Well I’m pretty upset,” Elsie said. “I was real attached to that car. I’m gonna go make myself a cup of tea and try to calm down or I’m gonna need a blood pressure pill.”
Kevin followed her into the house. “I’m going to call Noogie Macon and Billy Searles. They’re not going to believe this. This has been so awesome. They thought it was something when the house got bombed… wait’ll I tell them I’ve been in a shoot-out. They’re gonna be so-o-o-o impressed.”
Steve and Daisy exchanged glances. “I need a drink,” Steve said. “Not tea.”
He went to the sideboard in the dining room and poured brandy into two crystal goblets. He handed one to Daisy and hooked an arm around her shoulders. “I’m going to invite you into my room for an hour of television and conversation. We’ll leave the door open so no one under the age of fifteen gets the wrong idea, and we’ll get quietly snockered.”
Bob followed them up the stairs, and the three of them climbed onto Steve’s bed. Steve zapped the television on with the remote and lifted his glass. “We need a toast. To a day well done.”
“To fun.”
“To soft ice cream.”
“To roller coasters in the dark.”
He patted Bob on the head. “To man’s best friend.”
“To toasters, flush toilets, adhesive tape, and the electric light.” They clinked glasses and sipped their brandy.
“I’m not much of a drinker,” Daisy said. “This stuff is scalding my stomach and making me feel very friendly.”
“It’s supposed to relax you.”
“It’s making the backs of my knees sweat.”
His gaze moved to the open door. He could have it closed and locked and be back on the bed in less than five seconds. If he ran downstairs to get more brandy, he could be back on the bed in fifteen seconds, twenty tops. He wondered if her knees would cool off in twenty seconds. Probably not. He watched her take another sip and knew he was going to leave the door open.
The first time they’d made love it was a groping match on the family room floor, the second time he’d hauled her onto the kitchen table. He wanted to do better for her. He wanted soft lights, lots of time, and he wanted to wake up next to her in the morning.
She moved closer, snuggling into the circle of his arms, and his heart ached with longing, not just to make love to her, but to care for her, share with her, to link his life permanently with hers. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, thinking that being in love was downright painful. And to make matters worse, someone was trying to kill Daisy.
Actually, he still wasn’t completely convinced the man was trying to kill her. It seemed to Steve that the guy was trying to scare her and didn’t mind hurting her, or anyone else, in the process. In his own mind he’d ruled out the Roach. The Roach was a businessman. He wasn’t crazy, and he had nothing to gain by terrorizing Daisy. In fact, he had a lot to lose. His trial was coming up. The kind of press he was getting wasn’t going to help his cause. He’d threatened Daisy in a moment of anger, but there was no good reason to carry out that threat.
Daisy turned to Steve and eyed him critically. He’d wandered off on her. He was holding her snug against himself, but he was lost in thought. “You want to share those thoughts?”
“I was thinking about the guy who’s harassing you. Everyone automatically assumed it was the Roach or someone acting on his behalf, but I’m not so sure anymore.”
Daisy murmured agreement. “It would only compound his problems.”
“This seems like a dumb question, but do you have any enemies? Can you think of anyone who’d use this as an excuse to victimize you?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been down this road, too. I have to admit I can be pretty aggressive when I want something, but I don’t think I’ve ever stepped on anyone’s toes hard enough to provoke mayhem.”
“How about your fan mail? You get hate letters from cat lovers? You get indecent proposals from weirdos?”
“Nothing that stands out in my mind. I keep all the letters on file. Maybe it would be worthwhile to go over them.”
“Anything like this ever happen to you before? Obscene phone calls?”
“Nope.”
