“Okay. We’ve slowed her down,” Jake said. “Now what?”

“We hope the police get here soon,” Annie said. “I’m fresh out of ideas.”

Jake glanced down the street. There were no cars around. It had been several minutes since he called Hank, but the cop was nowhere in sight.

He pulled out his cell phone and called the detective. “Where are you?” he asked, when Hank answered.

“I’m about five minutes away,” Hank said. “I don’t know how close the cruisers are, but I told them to leave their sirens off. We don’t want to warn her.”

Hank chuckled when Jake told him what they’d done to slow her down. “Get out of sight,” Hank said. “We’ll take care of her.”

Jake hung up and spun around as an engine sounded from inside the garage. Tammy was leaving. The garage door motor hummed. The door shuddered and shook as the motor howled and worked uselessly. The door scraped up an inch and stopped. The motor died, then started it’s persistent whine again.

Annie followed Jake and they jumped the hedge onto the neighbor’s lawn and crouched down out of sight. They watched as Tammy came from behind the garage, brandishing a pistol in one hand. She stopped short when she saw Jake’s car in the driveway.

The killer spun around, glancing in all directions, her face flushed with anger. Then she opened the driver side door of the Firebird and looked inside, probably hoping to find the keys in the ignition.

She slammed the door and looked toward the street, her brows in a tight, angry line.

Jake knew Tammy had no way out except by foot. He looked around anxiously for Hank as the killer tucked the pistol into her waistband and started off on a steady jog down the street, moving away from where the Lincolns watched helplessly.

Chapter 51

Friday, 12:45 p.m.

ANNIE WATCHED the woman who had kidnapped her and threatened their lives disappear down the sidewalk. She was getting away.

“We have to follow her,” she said, looking at Jake. “Or she might be gone forever.”

Jake frowned at Annie a moment, then nodded and stood to his feet. “Stay behind me,” he said, leaping into a jog.

“Wait,” Annie called. “Give me your keys.”

Jake stopped, turned back, and frowned as Annie caught up to him. “What for?”

“I’m going to cut her off. I think I know where she’s headed.”

Jake dug in his pocket, pulled out his key ring, and handed it over, a reluctant look on his face. “Be careful.”

“Follow her,” Annie said, pointing up the sidewalk. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I’ll call Hank,” Jake said. “I’ll stay on the line with him until he gets here.”

Annie turned and raced back to the Firebird, hopping in. She had only driven the powerful machine a couple of times in the past. Usually, she let Jake do the driving, or used her own little Escort.

But today, there was no choice.

The engine roared when she turned the key. She dug for a lever below the seat, tugging it forward to accommodate her normal legs rather than Jake’s long ones.

The garage door shuddered and thumped as she put the vehicle in reverse and backed up carefully. She gave it a spurt of gas and the car leaped back, faster than she expected, and she was on the street, facing away from the direction the killer had fled.

She knew Tammy would be desperate now, and desperate people do desperate things. The woman was in a panic, with no choice but to get out of the subdivision and get to Main Street as fast as possible.

At least, that’s what Annie was counting on.

Even at the rate Tammy was running, it would take her several minutes. Once there, Annie was afraid the killer would try to hijack a car. And if Tammy found herself cornered, it might end up as a hostage situation. That would put even more people in danger and must be avoided at all cost.

Annie needed her plan to work.

She spun the wheel, worked the car into low gear, and touched the gas, glancing in the rearview mirror as the car jumped forward. She saw Jake’s back, now almost out of view.

She clung to the steering wheel, managed to find second gear, eased the clutch out, and took a quick right-hand turn without slowing down.

A cruiser breezed past. At the speed she was going on a residential street he undoubtedly would’ve pulled her over under normal circumstances. But today, she was sure the pair of cops inside the vehicle were intent on apprehending a killer, a little too late to do any good.

Main Street wasn’t far ahead. She counted on a modest flow of traffic in this part of town during the day.

Annie was familiar with the streets in the neighborhood, in fact, her knowledge of the city could put any taxi driver to shame. She planned to use that knowledge now.

She touched the brakes lightly, slowed at a stop sign to avoid a pedestrian, and then swung onto Main. She spun the steering wheel to the left, cut to the inside lane, and whipped around a slow moving vehicle. She was making good time and expected to have time to spare—but not much. Every second could count.

Her destination lay just ahead—just a few more moments.

Annie pushed in the clutch, hit the brakes hard, pulled to the curb, and stopped. She turned off the engine, leaving the key ring dangling from the ignition as she jumped out and raced toward the corner of the next street.

She stopped outside the doorway of a flower shop, two feet from the corner of the building. If she had judged this right, her quarry would appear directly in front of her shortly.

She eased to the corner, chanced a quick peek around, and then pulled her head back.

The killer was coming, working her way up the sidewalk toward Main Street. Her pace had slowed, she was tiring, her head drooped from exhaustion, but she would be here in a few seconds. Jake was nowhere in sight. Annie suspected he was behind, staying well out of the woman’s view.

Annie bent her knees slightly, braced her feet, tensed her leg muscles, and waited.

The moment Tammy Norton came into view, Annie leaped forward and broadsided her, bearing her to the sidewalk. Tammy fell hard onto her back, caught by surprise and momentarily stunned, allowing Annie to straddle her.

Annie attempted to hold the killer’s arms down, but Tammy wrenched one free and reached to her back, going for the weapon. Annie grasped the deadly woman by the wrist and the pistol spun across the sidewalk, out of reach.

Tammy lay on her back and clawed like a wildcat, snarling through gritted teeth as she scratched and scraped to break loose from Annie’s grasp. There were no rules as the battle continued. The killer raked at Annie with her nails, and heaved from side to side in a desperate attempt to free herself.

Three or four pedestrians gathered to watch and cheer, not making a move to retrieve the weapon or aid in the struggle.

The killer outweighed Annie by a good twenty pounds, and the element of surprise was gone, but Annie held on. She must persevere until Jake arrived.

Each of the combatants were filled with a determination of their own—the killer to escape, Annie to stop a cold-blooded murderer.

Tammy’s longer arms reached Annie’s throat, and her fingers tightened in a death grip. Annie fought for air, struggling to loosen the clutching hands.

From the corner of her eye, Annie saw Jake, fifty feet away, tearing up the sidewalk. In a few more seconds, it would be all over.

Then with a desperate move, the killer released her grasp on Annie’s throat, heaved and rolled to one side, broke loose, and dived for the weapon. Annie came to a crouch. Tammy spun back, resting on one knee, the pistol in her hand.

The killer gritted her teeth. “Stay there or I’ll kill you now.”