Page 55 of Chasing Creed

David City, Nebraska

Sara waited until long after dark. She’d memorized every angle of the street. Listened carefully, so even now when she couldn’t see, she could identify the sounds around her.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait some more. Quietly.

Her foot cramped, but she refused to readjust. It was colder than expected. Her fingers felt numb despite the gloves. Her back ached from being hunched over. She’d practiced mind games to detach from her discomfort. Just when she thought she couldn’t last another minute, she heard the click-clunk of the car’s locks disengaging.

She froze. Tightened herself into a ball behind the driver’s seat. Held her breath as the car door opened. Bit her lip as the person’s weight dropped and pressed against her.

The seatbelt slithered into place.

Another click-clunk as the locks engaged.

A pause. A long pause.

Was there a scent? A sound? Something Sara hadn’t considered. Was her cover about to be blown? Why was it taking so long?

Finally, the engine started, and the car began to move.

Stop and go. Three stop signs.

Sara had counted them out ahead of time.

In a matter of minutes, they drove out of town. Away from streetlights. Into the dark. Five more minutes and they’d leave the highway.

Sara waited. Her breath slowed and kept even. It would be impossible to hear her over the car’s radio. Soft rock. The volume low. The music hummed with the heater’s fan. Warm air filled the inside, thawing her limbs, bringing feeling back to her fingers. But also reviving aches and pains she had commanded her mind to ignore.

Just a few more minutes, she told her body.

The car slowed. Then turned.

Gravel pinged against the undercarriage, vibrating against Sara’s tucked legs. She had plenty of time now. Still, she wanted this over. The longer it took, the messier it would be.

Her hand traced over the floormat and wrapped around the grip of the Smith & Wesson revolver. It was the smaller of the two handguns she owned. This one couldn't take down a drone but worked fine for this job. She kept it where she could feel it and grab it. But she didn’t want to handle it while she waited. Instead, she wanted her grip to be fresh and solid, not cramped and stiff. Now, her fingers easily slid around it.

The floor thumped then dropped. A couple of sudden potholes caught Sara off guard. She stifled a groan, but her body banged against the back of the seat.

Now! It had to be now.

In seconds, she popped up. Her left hand grabbed the seatbelt and pulled tight while her right hand came around the seat. The revolver's barrel pressed against Rachel’s temple before she let out a gasp. When she slammed on the brakes, Sara was already prepared, hanging on.

The seatbelt crushed her left hand. She chest-hugged the back of the seat. Her right hand remained steady with the revolver slipping only slightly and now digging into the side of the woman’s head.

In the rearview mirror, their eyes met. The low dash light emphasized the raw fear on her face.

“You?” Rachel’s voice was a whisper, tinged with pained regret. “I should have known when you called me Charlotte.”

“Listen to me carefully.” Sara kept her tone steady and strong. “Do as I tell you, and this doesn’t need to be painful. Don’t do what I say, and it’s gonna hurt. A lot.”

37

Elkhorn, Nebraska

Maggie couldn’t remember being so relieved to finally see the lights of a city in the close distance. This whole day she found herself on the edge.

Pakula’s restaurant choice was in a quaint historic district with cobblestone streets and picturesque shop fronts. Mexican music poured from a speaker on the enclosed patio area. At the door, a waitress named Christin greeted Pakula with a frown and said, “I’m sorry, I’m going to need to see your license and registration before I can seat you.”

He laughed. They definitely knew each other. Without either of them saying another word, the waitress led them through the crowded dining room and directly to a table in the corner. They both took seats so they could see into the restaurant. Maggie’s back was against a brick wall. Pakula’s back was to a wall of windows that looked out over the street.