Page 27

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A Mormon temple flashed by outside the window. And then a driving range. A red light ahead made Colleen pause, but then it went green and she hammered it alongside a cornfield, picking up the pace back toward the center of Beckford.

They were in Jodi’s car now, a new Mercedes-AMG C 43 sedan. It was Colleen’s idea to do the quick switch back at the hotel parking lot as Travers was no doubt putting an APB out on her rental.

Jodi was a nervous wreck so she had insisted that Colleen drive.

She wasn’t the only one, Colleen thought as she took the nimble silver Merc up to seventy.

It wasn’t just the Connecticut countryside out the window that was a blur. That video. Holy moly, the video , Colleen thought.

Everything was coming at a pace almost too fast for her to process.

The next time she had to slow was at a traffic light near a supermarket and a McDonald’s about three miles from the interstate. They were two cars back, and off to the left along the intersecting road, there was a small truss bridge over a river.

A sense of dread immediately shot through Colleen as her eyes were drawn toward the bridge. At the top of a rise on the other side of it was a dark blue police car. It came down the slope straight toward them, its roof lights strobing red and blue.

“Those are the Beckford town cops,” Jodi said with a groan. “Travers must have found the car in the lot and called the police chief about us. What are we going to do now?”

Colleen quickly glanced down at the map on her phone. Past the light, it was a straight shot down Route 4 to the center of Beckford and The Forge. Two miles tops. Before she had time to stop herself, Colleen made a command decision.

She spun out into the opposite lane and gunned it through the red light.

Horns blared at their back as they whizzed down Route 4. They passed a church, and an old, brick firehouse. Past the firehouse was another small truss bridge and as they arrived on its opposite side, Colleen slammed the accelerator to the floor.

The Merc’s AMG engine gave out a little scream as they leaped forward. Then there was nothing but trees on the right and a gray cliff on the left rushing past. As they came through a ridge canyon two fast minutes later, they could see the yellow lights of the town square immediately on the other side of the river over another small bridge.

The Merc shuddered as Colleen braked hard and screeched a ninety-degree right onto the bridge.

The Forge was on the right just on the other side of the bridge but Colleen intentionally blew past it. She’d just swerved past a canoe place on the left and a Civil War memorial cannon on the right when she saw a car dealership dead ahead and she slammed on the brakes and made a hard left at its parking lot.

They were still skidding when they hit its curb very hard. They both let out a yell as they bumped up in their seats almost high enough to hit the roof. But they just made it into the lot, and Colleen drove down the row of cars quickly parking at its end.

“Get down,” she said, pulling at Jodi’s arm as a blue light of the speeding town police car swept by at top speed.

“Out now,” Colleen said, pulling open the door. “We need to leave the car. They’re looking for it now.”

“But where are we going to go?” Jodi said.

“The Forge. The restaurant there,” Colleen said, pointing. “I know someone in there who will help us.”

At least I hope so , Colleen thought.