Tucker didn’t hesitate. He hit his own lights and turned the wheel hard to the right in almost the same movement. “Hang on,” he told Sarah.
It was in all reality hardly more than a rabbit trail, an old road so narrow that brush scraped along the sides of the Mercedes, and so uneven that the shocks didn’t have a chance—especially since Tucker was driving at a reckless speed. But, somehow, he was able to keep the heavy car on the road around one hairpin curve after another, even at this speed and with the roar of a pursuing car behind them.
Unlike all the car chases in television and the movies, no shots came from the car behind them. Hardly any sound at all, in fact. There was just that grim, steady pursuit, unceasing and unrelenting. But there was only one car behind them—as far as they could tell.
“There have to be more,” Sarah said.
“Bet on it. If I were them, I’d take one or two more cars and circle around, try to get ahead of us. They have to figure these roads all lead to the main one, where we have to end up eventually.”
“Are they right?” she asked, hanging on for dear life to keep from being tossed around inside the hurtling car.
“No. This road goes on for miles, all the way to the highway—and it doesn’t cross another road along the way.”
Sarah looked back over her shoulder. “I think they’re gaining on us.” Her voice was remarkably calm, especially considering that she could hardly breathe for the fear clogging her throat.
“In just a minute,” Tucker said tensely, “I’ll see what I can do about that. If memory serves—and I hope to God it does—our friends back there are about to get a little surprise.”
Memory served. It was a very easy turn to miss, because it was sharp and totally unexpected; a deceptively gentle rise kept even a wary driver from realizing that there were only two choices once you reached the top—take a punishingly sharp turn to the right, or do a swan dive into a small pond.
Tucker made the turn.
The car behind them didn’t.
Duran stood behind the cabin looking out over the lake. With the sun up now, it sparkled invitingly. He thought briefly of swimming or fishing or just drifting on a boat, but the thoughts didn’t last. They never did.
“Report,” he said as almost silent footsteps approached behind him.
“They didn’t leave anything behind but a half-cooked breakfast. No sign of where they’re headed next. No sign of their ultimate goal.”
Duran glanced over his shoulder briefly. “I imagine the ultimate goal is to escape.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Tell the others it’s time we were going.”
“Yes, sir.”
Footsteps retreated.
Duran returned his attention to the lake, but this time his gaze scanned beyond it. Eventually, he focused on a spot directly across from the cabin. Misty in the early morning. A couple of fallen trees, thick shrubs. A very peaceful scene. A perfect place from which to…observe.
He smiled slightly as he studied that perfect place. Then, still smiling, he turned and went unhurriedly toward the cabin.
“Tell me that bastard didn’t know we were here,” Cait pleaded.
Watching several dark cars leaving the cabin across the lake, Brodie laughed shortly. “He knew.”
Cait was still visibly upset. “What’s he doing here? Why is he leading the hunt for Sarah Gallagher?”
“She must have more potential than we realized.”
“But they tried to kill her.”
Brodie sat back and began stowing the binoculars, frowning. “Maybe not. That fire could have been an attempt to get her rather than kill her. A house burns down, a female body is conveniently found inside burned beyond recognition—who’s to say it isn’t Gallagher?”
Cait looked a little sick. “Kill some poor woman just to provide a body for something like that?”
“It’s been done before,” Brodie replied without emotion.
After a moment, Cait drew a deep breath. “So you think Duran wants her?”
“I think he wouldn’t be here on the front lines unless he had something more in mind than Gallagher’s death.”
Cait nodded slowly. “What now?”
“Now,” Brodie said grimly, “we find some way of getting our car out of that fucking pond.”
EIGHT
“I am guilty of criminal stupidity.”
Sarah turned her head quickly to look at Tucker, startled by the grim anger in his voice. “Why? You couldn’t know they’d find us back there so quickly—”
“That’s just it. I should have known. I should have realized.”
“Realized what?”
“How they could find us. Wasn’t there a sign back there for a rest stop coming up?”
“I think so. But—”
Tucker shook his head. “Let’s see if I’m right about this. Ah…” He took the exit for the rest stop, and minutes later he was pulling into a parking space slightly apart from several other cars. “There should be a flashlight in the glove compartment; could you get it for me, please?”
She did, and handed it across. “Tucker—”