Last Breath

46

C.J. found Adam’s black BMW a few yards from the parking garage, near a pile of lumber blocking the entry ramp. For the first time that night, she actually felt lucky-because the door on the driver’s side had been left open. It hung ajar, inviting her inside.

A trap? More likely, Adam had been in too much of a hurry to close the door. That meant the antitheft system had never been activated.

If the key was in the ignition, she might start to believe in miracles. She slipped inside and checked.

No key. Well, she could get the car started anyway. She’d picked up a long steel screw from the roadside while doubling back to the garage. It would make an adequate prying tool. She set to work digging the screw into the ignition cylinder, trying to find purchase on the slippery metal ring.

The thought occurred to her that Adam would kill her if he knew she was scratching up his car.

Ha ha, very funny.

He really was embarrassingly proud of this set of wheels, his first tangible proof of success. She remembered how he’d dropped by her house, shortly after signing on with Brigham amp; Garner, just to say hello, of course. And he’d been driving his shiny new Beemer-the 325 coupe, he’d informed her-184 horsepower, audio console upgrade, sand leather interior. She had wondered why he still wanted to impress her, why it mattered to him.

She still hadn’t pried loose the cylinder. If she had a knife or a screwdriver Wait.

Footsteps on asphalt.

Adam was coming.

No time to get the car started. She had to take cover, hope he didn’t notice the scratch marks on the steering column.

She slipped out of the car, easing the door shut without making a sound, and scrambled behind the pile of lumber. Huddled there, breathing hard, as Adam came into view.

He was limping badly now. She’d struck him pretty hard with the plank. The muscles of his leg must have stiffened up. She hoped it hurt like hell.

He stopped by the black coupe and opened the door, sliding in. The dome light illuminated the car’s interior. She could see him clearly. His face was drawn and pale, his pretense of composure long gone.

Was he leaving? No chance. He couldn’t run away now-unless he meant to run all the way to Mexico.

Go, Adam, she urged voicelessly. You can cross the border before I find a way out of here.

She didn’t even care if he was caught. She just wanted him gone, out of her life forever.

The BMW’s engine turned over with a dull grumble.

Adam started to close the driver’s door, then hesitated, looking down at something in the car.

The scratches she’d made? No, his gaze seemed fixed on the seat. Adam ran a hand over the seat cushion, then raised his hand to the glow of the dome light.

There was something dark on his fingers.

She looked down at her own hand, invisible in the shadows, and remembered smashing the vial of tattoo ink. Her hand had been stained a bloody maroon hue. Though she’d wiped off the worst of the spill, her fingers and palm remained dark with ink.

She’d left a handprint on the BMW’s seat-a print that would show up plainly against the sand leather.

Glare.

The coupe’s headlights came on, then the high beams, flooding the whole area with light.

She scrunched down lower, hoping the lumber would hide her from the halogen beams.

The car began to turn in a slow semicircle, high beams sweeping over the lumber pile.

The fans of light swept past the spot where she lay prone in the weeds… stopped… then swung back.

She was pinned in the glare.

He’d seen her.

The car’s motor revved.

Run.

The BMW screamed forward, plowing into the lumber, scattering it like kindling, but she was already up and sprinting along the side of the garage.

The coupe reversed, then swerved toward her in pursuit. She picked up her speed. Brightness flared behind her.

She reached the corner of the garage. Looking back. she flung the screw at his windshield. It cracked the glass, leaving a starburst of fractures.

Running again, legs pumping hard. Childishly she felt better. He was so proud of that stupid car.

She ran faster, and behind her the coupe turned the corner, its high beams closing in.