Dead Aim(8)

“I don't know.” Sarah was looking at her rearview mirror. “Maybe he doesn't like that asshole tailgating me.”

Alex glanced behind her at the two brilliant headlights glaring from the car behind them. “Monty's smart, but I doubt if he's aware of traffic violations, Sarah.”

“You never know.” She frowned. “It's not like him to—” Her expression cleared. “The idiot's passing me, thank God. I'm going to let him do it. I don't know what his hurry is; I'm doing the speed limit. You'd think that—” Monty lunged over to the side window, and his barking became frantically shrill as the car pulled almost even with them. “Easy, boy. It's okay.”

But it wasn't okay. Alex caught a glint of metal in the hand of the shadowy figure driving the other car. Oh, God, a gun. “Duck!” She reached over and pushed Sarah down and against the door.

The glass shattered.

Sarah gasped as the bullet struck her. Blood stained the shoulder of her sweater as she slumped forward.

The jeep skidded across the tarmac, the headlights spearing the valley hundreds of feet below.

Alex grabbed the steering wheel, her foot reaching over to stomp on the brake as the jeep plunged off the mountain road.

Death.

They were going to die.

The jeep plunged down the steep, rocky slope toward the waiting darkness.



The jeep stopped abruptly. Alex realized dazedly that it had hit a tree.

Monty was crawling over the back of the front seat, trying desperately to get to Sarah.

Sarah.

Blood was still running down Sarah's arm and she was slumped against the door.

“Sarah . . .” She had to get Sarah out of the car and try to stop the bleeding.

She opened the passenger door and started to get out.

Nothing was beneath her feet.

She looked down and swallowed hard as shock ran through her. The jeep was balanced on a jutting outcrop of the mountain, hundreds of feet above the valley. The vehicle had only been stopped from catapulting over the ledge by a scrawny pine tree balanced precariously at the edge of the slope. There was no way they could get out the passenger door. She reached over Sarah and pushed at her door. It opened a crack and then stuck. She opened the window. “Out, boy.”

He didn't move.

“Dammit, out! I have to get her out of here!”

Monty looked at her a moment and then jumped out the window.

Alex crawled over Sarah. Monty was sitting quietly beside the car and whined when she wriggled out the window.

“I know. We'll get her out.” She pulled the door, trying to get leverage to open it. It moved only a few inches. She pulled again, using all her strength. The door opened another foot. It would have to do.

She grabbed Sarah under the armpits and tugged. Awkward. So damn awkward. She tugged again. What if she was causing Sarah to bleed more? Don't think about it. What else could she do? If that tree gave way, the jeep might topple over at any minute.

So get her out of the car. Get her against the cliff wall.

It took her another few minutes to pull Sarah out of the car and drag her across the ledge to comparative safety under the outcropping of the cliff wall.

Monty sat down beside Sarah and looked pleadingly at Alex.

“I know. I'll try to help her.” She opened Sarah's sweater and then her blouse. The wound was high and the bleeding wasn't as bad as she'd feared, she realized with relief. “Stay with her, Monty.”

She went back to the jeep, grabbed Sarah's handbag, and pulled out her cell phone.

Call 911. Tell them to come.

Tell them they had to come and save Sarah.

The 911 operator was quick and efficient, and it was frustrating how little information Alex could give her. “I don't know where I am. Somewhere on Highway 30 between Denver and Arapahoe Junction. I told you, I woke up and—”

Someone was shining a flashlight down at them from the road above.

A man was silhouetted against the headlights of the car behind him.

Monty growled.

Her heart jumped. Keep calm. Don't panic. He would have a difficult time reaching them even if he tried to descend the steep slope. And an accurate shot would be nearly impossible from that almost vertical angle.

“I'll keep my cell line open,” she said to the 911 operator. “See if you can trace it. Maybe you can at least zero in on the closest tower.” She drew Monty closer to the cliff wall next to Sarah and hopefully out of range of that bastard above.

What if he did try to come down? She had no weapon. She'd left her gun behind in the trailer. God, she felt helpless. Like a sitting duck.

She wasn't helpless, dammit. She would hear that bastard on the rock and she would fight. If nothing else, she'd tackle him or push him off the damn mountain. She ran to the jeep, got the first-aid kit and blanket out of the back. A weapon. What could she use as a weapon? The small shovel Sarah always kept in her vehicles. She grabbed the shovel and ran back to Sarah.