Agent Daddy. Alice Sharpe

perched back atop his box, Trip added, “You look like you know what you’re doing with that engine.”

      “Been taking ’em apart since I was a little kid.”

      “You look familiar,” Trip said. “You from around here?” Too late he realized he’d fallen into interrogation mode.

      The kid didn’t seem to mind. “More or less,” he said.

      Trip introduced himself and stepped closer, hand extended.

      “Eddie Reed,” the guy replied, but raised grease-stained hands to explain why he didn’t return the shake. He added, “I know who you are, Mr. Tripper. I came to your place looking for work a few weeks ago.”

      “I don’t—”

      “Your foreman, that Mr. Plum guy, he said you just hired someone else.”

      A big clock on the wall ticked away another ten seconds before Trip added, “I’m wondering about the car across the street. The green one that’s been parked there most of today.”

      “What about it?”

      “Did you see the young woman who left it there this morning?”

      “I don’t come to work till two o’clock,” Eddie said. “What does she look like?”

      “Oh, around twenty, long red hair, tall. Pretty girl.”

      “She special to you?”

      Trip ignored the question. “Did you see anyone matching her description?”

      “No, sorry. I saw the cops nosing around, that’s all. Is something wrong?”

      “I’m not sure. Probably not.”

      This earned Trip a long glance, until Eddie, apparently losing interest, went back to his task with a nimble-fingered finesse Trip envied. How did a man get that comfortable with engines? At his father’s knee? Trip thought of his own father, the man who had started the Triple T Ranch, the man who could fix anything, the man Trip had given up emulating two decades before.

      “Thanks anyway,” Trip said.

      “Sure. Hey, I hope it works out.”

      “You hope what works out?”

      “The girl. I hope you find her.”

      “Yeah,” Trip said. “Thanks.”

      Walking out of the garage, Trip dug from his pocket the paper on which Faith had written her number. Standing in the light shining through the gas station window, he flipped open his cell phone right as it rang.

      “Trip here.”

      “This is Faith—”

      “I was just going to call you.”

      “Listen to me,” she pleaded. Her voice sounded anxious and in the background, he heard Colin screaming.

      “What—”

      “I’m on the road to your house with your kids. Someone is following really close behind me, so close his lights blind me and I’ve tried to get away from him, but he speeds up when I do.”

      “Where are you exactly?” he yelled as he ran to his truck. None of this made any sense. Why was she driving the kids out to the ranch?

      “I don’t know where I am, not exactly, but there are hardly any cars out here. I passed something called Tyrone Gardens a few minutes ago.”

      “I’m coming,” he said, estimating time in his head. “Don’t stop, whatever you do, and don’t speed up if you can help it. I’ll call ahead to the ranch. I know where you are…I’ll be there.”

      “Okay,” she said, almost drowned out by a high-pitched scream that had to be Noelle. His gut tightened as she whispered, “Oh, please hurry.”

      Chapter Three

      Noelle screamed again, “It’s closer!”

      “Noelle, sit down! Make sure your seat belt is tight.”

      Colin suddenly grew very quiet. While it was a tremendous relief, it was also a concern. Faith dare not turn to make sure the child was okay. “Check Colin, Noelle. Is he all right?”

      “I—I think he’s scared,” Noelle managed.

      “Hold his hand, okay?”

      “Okay,” Noelle said, and Faith could hear the tears in her voice.

      In the next instant, the lights inside grew even brighter, Faith’s car seemed to pause and the abandoned road seemed to hum.

      A premonition gripped Faith. He was going to ram her. She knew it. “Noelle, hang on—”

      The words had barely left her lips when the impact came. Her car lurched forward, the tires spinning as she hit the verge on the side of the road. Trying to drown out the unsettling sounds of the children shrieking, Faith fought the wheel as the tires drifted over icy weeds until they ran up against a berm, sending the car bouncing back toward the road. The truck had dropped back a few feet, but Faith knew what would happen next, she knew it would advance again.

      “Talk to me, Noelle. Are you and Colin still okay?”

      “I think so,” Noelle sputtered.

      “Keep your head down, sing to Colin, we’re almost home.”

      The cat-and-mouse game had started after she turned off the main highway. According to the sign, she had five miles to endure before they reached the ranch. Time was passing in a frenzy. She wasn’t even sure how long ago she’d called Trip, just that she’d tossed her purse back to Noelle and directed the little girl to find the flashlight and her uncle’s card buried in the front pocket.

      Considering how afraid Noelle had to be, Faith thought it pretty amazing she could so calmly read the right set of numbers to her, so she could punch them into the phone. Now the tiny beam of the pocket flashlight flickered on and off as Noelle apparently used it to check on Colin.

      But even if Trip showed up right now, what could he do…how could he stop this?

      Who was back there? It had to be a madman, and the only madman she knew was David Lee. Had he followed her, had he waited while she and the kids went into the store, then tracked her again, hanging back in traffic and biding his time until she turned onto a desolate stretch of highway?

      Why would he do something like this? She was almost positive the pursuing vehicle was a truck, as the headlights were higher off the ground than her own. Did David drive a truck? She didn’t know. She’d never actually seen him come and go from his mother’s place. He must park on the street.

      The lights were once again coming closer. She instinctively pressed down on the accelerator pedal. She heard Trip’s voice warning her not to speed up, but the thought of being bumped again terrified her. The lights swerved off to the lane beside her and for one glorious moment, she thought her pursuer was giving up, that maybe he was getting ahead of her so he could speed away.

      She could see now: it was a truck, a dark truck, though she couldn’t see the driver. It pulled up parallel to her and she eased up on the gas, falling back, willing him to keep on going. It looked like it was working, when suddenly the truck swerved into her car, hitting the front bumper.

      She held on to the wheel and yelled at the children to cover their heads, or at least that was her intention, but words were lost in the screams that bounced around the interior of the car. Her vehicle flew off the road and straight up a steep bank until it breasted the top and became airborne. It landed a second later with a crash, spinning until it came to a clattering halt.

      

      TRIP TURNED HIS LIGHTS on high beam. As he raced out of town, he’d called the ranch foreman, George Plum, and the two men had agreed to drive toward one another until they either found