Finally exiting the highway, Colin steered onto a winding county road, loblolly pine and red oak mingling on either side, kudzu playing no favorites between the two. It was less a shortcut than an attempt to avoid an endless series of stoplights. Lightning continued to strike, turning the clouds silver and illuminating the surroundings in otherworldly strobes. The rain and wind intensified, the wipers barely keeping the windshield clear, but he knew this road well. He eased into one of its many blind curves before instinctively stomping on the brakes.
Up ahead, a car with storage racks across the roof was halfway off the road at a cockeyed angle, its hazards flashing. The trunk stood propped open to the elements. As the Camaro slowed, Colin felt the rear fishtail slightly before the tires caught again. He merged into the oncoming lane to give the car a wide berth, thinking that the guy couldn’t have picked a worse time and place to break down. Not only was the storm limiting visibility, but drunks like the ones back at the diner would be setting out for home right about now, and he could imagine one of them taking the corner too fast and plowing into the back of the car.
Not good, he thought. It was definitely an accident waiting to happen, but at the same time, it wasn’t his business. It wasn’t his job to rescue strangers, and he probably wouldn’t be much help anyway. He understood the engine in his car, but only because the Camaro was older than he was; modern engines had more in common with computers. Besides, the driver had no doubt already called for help.
As he rolled slowly past the stopped car, however, he noticed the rear tire was flat and behind the trunk, a woman – soaked to the bone in jeans and a short-sleeved blouse – was struggling to remove the spare tire from its compartment. Lightning flashed, a long series of flickering camera strobes that captured her mascara-streaked distress. In that instant, he realized that her dark hair and wide-set eyes reminded him of one of the girls in his classes, and his shoulders slumped.
A girl? Why did it have to be a girl in trouble out here? For all he knew, it was the girl in his class, and he couldn’t very well pretend he hadn’t noticed that she needed help. He really didn’t need this right now, but what choice did he have?
With a sigh, he pulled over to the side of the road, leaving some distance between her car and his. He turned on his hazards and grabbed his jacket from the backseat. By then the rain was coming down in sheets, instantly soaking him as he exited, like the diagonal spray of an outdoor shower. Running a hand through his hair, he took a deep breath and then started toward her car, calculating how quickly he could change the tire and be on the road again.
“Need a hand?” he called.
Surprising him, she didn’t say anything. Instead, staring at him with stricken eyes, she let go of the tire and began slowly backing away.
CHAPTER 2
Maria
I
n the past, when she’d worked in the Mecklenburg County district attorney’s office, Maria Sanchez had been in the courtroom with any number of criminals, some of whom had been charged with the kinds of violent crimes that kept her awake at night. She’d had nightmares about various cases and had been threatened by a sociopath, but the simple fact was that she’d never been quite as frightened back then as she felt right now on this deserted stretch as that car, driven by that guy, suddenly pulled to the side of the road.