23

She continued all the way into the basement, then past the laundry room and the trash room and out the back, right into the parking lot.

A quick glimpse didn’t show anything or anyone suspicious, but she didn’t have time to really look.

Instead she barreled right to her car. Her fingers fumbled with the keys, but she got the car unlocked—glanced into the back seat to make sure no one was lurking there—shoved her suitcase in, and jumped inside.

She slammed down the locks, and for a moment she was shaking too hard to buckle her seat belt. She wished she had keyless entry and a push-button start.

The parking lot itself wasn’t well-lit, but she’d been living there long enough to know the layout, so she didn’t turn on her lights. Maybe that was an advantage of having an older car—no automatic lights.

She rolled toward the exit and stopped, cursing under her breath. The one-way streets would put her directly in the creep’s line of sight.

Maybe it was worth going the wrong way… but the street was too long, and if someone sped up it, they would hit her head-on.

No choice but to drive past the intersection. If the guy happened to look up, he would see her, but what were the odds?

Upon reaching the street, she realized she really should flip her lights on; the trees blocked too many of the streetlights, and she wasn’t able to see.

“It’s less than a block,” she muttered. “You can do this, Maisie.”

Her heart pounded as she accelerated across the intersection. Her sweaty palms were turning the steering wheel slippery.

Flashing blue light scattered over the street, across her car, and a police siren squealed.

The patrol car was right behind her. A sedan, thank goodness, so definitely not that guy in the SUV pretending to be a cop. She turned on her lights.

The street was too narrow for her to pull over, so she punched on her hazards and drove another block, where there was more room, before coming to a stop.

She pulled her registration out of the glove box and prepared to explain why she’d been driving with her lights off.

The patrol car’s lights shone brightly. Maisie couldn’t even look in the rearview mirror without blinding herself.

The officer seemed to be taking a long time, and after a few minutes, she twisted in her seat and squinted, trying to figure out what was happening.

And then she saw it. The SUV that had been in front of her apartment building was behind the squad car.

Maisie froze in panic. A pathetic high-pitched noise rose from her throat. The guy in the SUV was surely working for Ballystock. Or maybe he was a like-minded friend.

He must know the officer. The whole thing could be a setup, start to finish. She’d thought she was safe because she didn’t live in Ballystock’s jurisdiction.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

What would Ballystock do to her? Kidnap her? Use her as bait to get Ethan, Trent, and Raphael right where he wanted? The whole thing had gotten much bigger than obstruction of a murder investigation.

She gripped the steering wheel. The engine was still running. She could gun it, try to get away.

Surely they wouldn’t risk a high-speed chase through a residential neighborhood. Especially when they were planning to do something illegal.

All she knew for sure was that as long as she was sitting there, she was an easy target. The men could come up, one on each side, and trap her.

She jerked the car into gear and stomped on the accelerator.

The car lurched forward.

But she hadn’t turned the wheel enough, and she clipped the back of a sporty coupe. The sound of crunching metal made her wince, but she kept going.

There was a stop sign at the top of the road. She slowed just enough to make sure there wasn’t any oncoming traffic, then scooted across.

Behind her, the siren wailed, and she thought, What if I’m wrong? What if the cop isn’t dirty?

But deep down, she knew better. There wasn’t any innocent excuse for the guy in the SUV to be involved. In fact, that SUV was probably right behind the cop.

Where to go?

She made a left at the next intersection, merging into the traffic. With a little luck, she’d be able to lose them…

The traffic light turned yellow. She would have gone through it, but the two cars in front of her came to a stop.

The siren screeched, and a male voice blared through a loudspeaker, “Pull over.”

The vehicles behind her jerked to the side, but the ones ahead had nowhere to go.

Shit. Maisie’s stomach heaved.

She grabbed her purse, opened the door, and ran. Even as she sprinted, she was aware that she’d forgotten to put her car into park. At least the street was flat.

The pendant bounced as she ran. Her lucky pendant. Don’t fail me now, she thought.

Running in heels sucked.

She made her way through the oncoming traffic, then across the tiny parking lot of a convenience store.

The sound of jangling keys was behind her, getting louder now.

“Freeze!”

Maisie yelped and ran faster. She wanted to let go of her purse, but she didn’t dare; without it, she would have no money, no credit cards, no cell phone.

“Freeze!”

The voice was closer. Too close. Maisie dodged to the left just as a large hand grabbed her shoulder.

Then she was falling, hitting the ground, her knee scraping the pavement.

She groaned. The skin on both her knees as well as her palms was abraded, raw. But Maisie had endured far worse. She knew how to push through that kind of pain, and she was up again, then running.

More sirens were coming toward her.

Two hands grabbed her, and this time, when she went down, she couldn’t get up again.