“Latisha? Where are you?”

“God help me.” Her lips moved, but she couldn’t even hear her own voice. Every time she opened her mouth, she heard Gloria yelling at her in her mind. Don’t you dare, Latisha! Keep your head down. Don’t let him find you!

“Are you trying to break my heart?” he yelled. “You know how I feel about you. I thought you loved me, too.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. The weird thing was…part of her did love him. Was that possible? She hated him and she loved him. Afraid of him though she could sometimes be, she wanted to go back and finish the movie they’d been watching, crawl into bed, talk about their plans.

“Latisha? Baby, please. I know you gotta be out here somewhere. I brought you some flowers-but you broke my heart.”

A tear slipped from her eyes. Gloria! Help me!

“You’re gonna make yourself sick if you don’t come in,” he said.

She was already sick-and so cold.

“Let me take care of you. Let me get you warm and dry. I’ll give you another massage. You liked that, didn’t you?”

In truth, she’d never felt anything so wonderful in her life. Wesley had introduced her to a lot of enjoyable activities, including drinking. Gloria had been so strict about alcohol. What was the big deal about having some fun once in a while?

“Hello?” Wes cried. “Latisha? You gonna leave me out here in the cold all by myself?”

No. She couldn’t continue to freeze. She was better off taking her chances with him, wasn’t she? She’d die for sure if she didn’t move.

Putting all the energy she had into sitting up, she concentrated on his voice and the beam of his light. He wasn’t that far away, and he was coming closer. Should she call out to him? Or just wait?

Then she spotted another pair of headlights. They were coming around the bend, like the ones before, only this car seemed to be going a lot slower than the others.

Remembering her sister’s bruised face, she clambered to her feet and stood there, swaying in the rain as she summoned the strength to walk. She’d do what Gloria told her. Gloria always had her best interests at heart. Maybe she and Marcie had resented their older sister for being so strict, but Gloria was loyal and fiercely protective. She was the one person in Latisha’s life who could be trusted.

“I’m coming, Gloria,” she muttered, and it was the thought of seeing her sister again that gave her the energy to put one foot in front of the other.

The car was drawing closer. She’d have to wave, yell-do something to attract the attention of the driver.

Suddenly, Wesley’s flashlight swept over her. It moved on, but then jerked back-and landed squarely on her.

He’d found her.

“Latisha, no!” he yelled and began to run.

Don’t fall. Don’t fall. If she crumpled now, she’d lose her one chance to go home. A heap at the side of the road wasn’t likely to get the attention of the person in that car.

Wes’s footsteps pounded the earth. She could almost hear his labored breathing. But he’d snapped off his light. He didn’t want to be seen by that car. He was hoping to get to her before she could get to whoever was coming toward them…

With one huge, final effort, she screamed, “No!” and stepped into the middle of the road. The oncoming car would either hit her-or stop.

When it began to slow, she thought she’d won. Help was only seconds away. Surely he’d back off now-run, hide.

Headlights blinded Latisha, tires squealed and the car began to hydroplane on the wet pavement. Flinching, Latisha threw up her hands to protect herself, although she knew that would do nothing.

The car didn’t hit her.

Had it stopped?

Yes. It was less than a foot away, its hot engine causing steam to rise in the cold weather.

Bolstered by a fresh surge of adrenaline, she glanced at Wesley. He was a few feet away and had drawn his gun. The rain was pouring down but she could see him well enough to know he had the muzzle pointed right at her.

Would he kill her in front of this stranger?

A resounding blast told her he’d try. She didn’t even have the energy to duck. She felt a burning sensation in her right arm and realized dimly that he wasn’t giving up, wasn’t afraid of whoever drove the car. He’d probably kill them, too. What would stop him?

Nothing.

The woman who shoved the gearshift into park and opened her door to poke her head out had to be at least seventy-five. It was an old lady with gray hair, and she couldn’t be more than five feet tall. “I just about hit you!” she cried. “What the heck are you doing?”

And then she seemed to understand what the blast had been about. As she spotted Wesley and his gun, terror dawned on her wrinkled face.

Latisha hadn’t saved herself. She was going to die-along with some white person’s grandmother.

Twenty-Four

Malcolm used his sleeve to wipe the rain from his eyes. He could feel the beat of his heart all the way to his fingertips, but it was okay. He could still salvage this situation. All he had to do was shoot the old lady, hide her car in the barn and drag Latisha home. Maybe he’d keep her around for another night. Maybe he’d kill her slowly. He’d have the luxury of deciding once he got rid of the driver. He’d bury both bodies tomorrow, after he’d had a chance to sleep. There’d be no real hurry, not out here where there was no one to see what he was doing.

Turning his pistol on the old woman, he squeezed off another shot, but the car stood between them and acted as a barricade. She was too damned short. He adjusted, tried to fire again-but she was quicker than he expected and jumped back in the car.

The thought crossed his mind to shoot her through the windshield. He couldn’t let her escape. But she didn’t give him the chance. Gunning the engine, she yanked the transmission into drive and steered right for him.

She was trying to kill him!

Diving to avoid being hit, he landed hard. A rock bruised his hip and his knee, some thorny bush scratched his face and he lost his gun. As he patted the ground, searching frantically for it, he heard a thin voice yell, “Get in!”

A door slammed shut the same second he found the warm metal of his pistol. With his chest rising and falling as if he was in the middle of a marathon, he grabbed it and turned to fire. He was a good shot. He could still solve this.

But he was too late. The old lady’s taillights glowed through the rain, but she was already half a mile down the road and racing away faster by the second.

Undeterred, he fired several shots. This couldn’t be happening, he told himself. No way had he just allowed Latisha and a witness to escape!

But that was exactly what he’d done. Far as he could tell, he hadn’t even hit the damn car.

After emptying his gun in the direction they’d gone, he sank to his knees. “Son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you for this. I’m going to kill you both!” he screamed. But when the rage receded, he knew there wasn’t a thing he could do to either of them. They were gone. He had to go to the house, pack his belongings and get the hell out. Maybe Latisha wouldn’t be able to lead the police to this place. But he was fairly certain the old lady could pinpoint exactly where she’d been accosted.

“What is it?” Sebastian murmured. Like Kate, he’d heard the phone ring. They both stood at Jane’s bedroom door, listening to her talk to David.

“Latisha escaped,” she told him.

“Is she okay?”

Brushing her hair out of her face, she sat up. She’d answered the phone automatically and hadn’t really comprehended the first few words. But the meaning of what David had told her, what she’d just repeated to Sebastian, was beginning to sink in, and she could hardly believe it. Latisha was alive-alive! Thank God! “She’s been shot, but the bullet passed through her arm and didn’t cause any lasting damage.”