creepers this morning on her way out of the city as it did now.
But then again, those motels had looked more Norman Bates than bed-and-breakfast. She was probably better off taking her chances with her on-its-last-wheel car.
She hadn’t planned to be out in boondocks Texas this late at night, but the chance to see who was coming and going from the family home of Dallas University’s top quarterback recruit had been too good to pass up. Who knew so many men in suits had business in such a podunk Texas town?
She hadn’t gathered enough damning evidence to put together a story for the station yet, but she was getting there. If she could get one of the players to slip up and talk, give her some names, she could blow the cheating scandal wide open and virtually secure her promotion to the on-air sidelines reporter for the Texas Sports Network.
Her boss had already told her she was one of the final candidates. Charli didn’t know how many other people she was up against, but she knew that she could go toe-to-toe with anyone on sports knowledge. Plus, she felt like her screen test had gone well. All she needed now was the one big story under her belt to show that she had the reporter chops as well.
She smiled, picturing herself on the sidelines of the college football games—microphone in hand, the smell of fresh-cut grass and sweaty athletes, the deafening roar of the crowd cheering for their teams. She couldn’t think of anything that would make her happier or any place she’d rather be. The years of working her ass off behind the scenes would finally pay off. She may even get enough of a salary boost to be able to spring for a new car.
She adjusted in her seat, but the faint flash of light in her rearview had her glancing in the mirror again. Distant headlights pierced the black vortex behind her. Her shoulders loosened a bit, her grip on the wheel easing. For some reason, knowing she wasn’t the only person on this lonely road gave her a weird sense of comfort. She pressed a button on her radio to tune into her favorite sports talk station and settled in for the last hour of her drive back to Dallas.
But right when one of the hosts started bitching about the Cowboys offense, the glare of headlights became blinding in her rearview as the driver flashed his high beams on and off. Squinting, Charli grabbed the mirror and turned it away from her. “What the hell?”
She slowed down a bit, thinking the driver must have some emergency and wanted to get past her. But when she eased up on the gas, he didn’t go around, he just got closer.
Flash. Flash. Flash
. The lights created a strobe effect in her car, disorienting her. She grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the left to move into the other lane, but the other car stayed on her rear as if it were tied to her bumper with rope.
“Shit.” She tried again, going back to the right lane, but the car followed, nearly clipping her rear bumper. The creeping unease she’d been fighting since she’d pulled onto this highway morphed into a hot flood of panic.
Whoever was in the car wasn’t trying to get past her—he was trying to get
to
her.
She slammed on her gas pedal in an attempt to put some distance between them and regain her vision, but her four-cylinder Toyota was no match for whatever was behind her. The rumble of a bigger, more powerful engine drowned out the quiet hum of her own.
She felt around for her cell phone, but the damn thing had tumbled to the floorboard when she’d made the hard lane change. Keeping her hands firmly on the wheel and knowing her speedometer was sliding into a zone it’d never ventured to, she tried to bump the phone closer with her left foot. Once it was within reach, she took one hand off the wheel and attempted to make a grab for the cell.
Come on, come on, just another inch.
But as soon as her fingers closed around her only lifeline, a hard jolt rocked the vehicle, knocking her head hard into the steering wheel and
But then again, those motels had looked more Norman Bates than bed-and-breakfast. She was probably better off taking her chances with her on-its-last-wheel car.
She hadn’t planned to be out in boondocks Texas this late at night, but the chance to see who was coming and going from the family home of Dallas University’s top quarterback recruit had been too good to pass up. Who knew so many men in suits had business in such a podunk Texas town?
She hadn’t gathered enough damning evidence to put together a story for the station yet, but she was getting there. If she could get one of the players to slip up and talk, give her some names, she could blow the cheating scandal wide open and virtually secure her promotion to the on-air sidelines reporter for the Texas Sports Network.
Her boss had already told her she was one of the final candidates. Charli didn’t know how many other people she was up against, but she knew that she could go toe-to-toe with anyone on sports knowledge. Plus, she felt like her screen test had gone well. All she needed now was the one big story under her belt to show that she had the reporter chops as well.
She smiled, picturing herself on the sidelines of the college football games—microphone in hand, the smell of fresh-cut grass and sweaty athletes, the deafening roar of the crowd cheering for their teams. She couldn’t think of anything that would make her happier or any place she’d rather be. The years of working her ass off behind the scenes would finally pay off. She may even get enough of a salary boost to be able to spring for a new car.
She adjusted in her seat, but the faint flash of light in her rearview had her glancing in the mirror again. Distant headlights pierced the black vortex behind her. Her shoulders loosened a bit, her grip on the wheel easing. For some reason, knowing she wasn’t the only person on this lonely road gave her a weird sense of comfort. She pressed a button on her radio to tune into her favorite sports talk station and settled in for the last hour of her drive back to Dallas.
But right when one of the hosts started bitching about the Cowboys offense, the glare of headlights became blinding in her rearview as the driver flashed his high beams on and off. Squinting, Charli grabbed the mirror and turned it away from her. “What the hell?”
She slowed down a bit, thinking the driver must have some emergency and wanted to get past her. But when she eased up on the gas, he didn’t go around, he just got closer.
Flash. Flash. Flash
. The lights created a strobe effect in her car, disorienting her. She grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it to the left to move into the other lane, but the other car stayed on her rear as if it were tied to her bumper with rope.
“Shit.” She tried again, going back to the right lane, but the car followed, nearly clipping her rear bumper. The creeping unease she’d been fighting since she’d pulled onto this highway morphed into a hot flood of panic.
Whoever was in the car wasn’t trying to get past her—he was trying to get
to
her.
She slammed on her gas pedal in an attempt to put some distance between them and regain her vision, but her four-cylinder Toyota was no match for whatever was behind her. The rumble of a bigger, more powerful engine drowned out the quiet hum of her own.
She felt around for her cell phone, but the damn thing had tumbled to the floorboard when she’d made the hard lane change. Keeping her hands firmly on the wheel and knowing her speedometer was sliding into a zone it’d never ventured to, she tried to bump the phone closer with her left foot. Once it was within reach, she took one hand off the wheel and attempted to make a grab for the cell.
Come on, come on, just another inch.
But as soon as her fingers closed around her only lifeline, a hard jolt rocked the vehicle, knocking her head hard into the steering wheel and
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