She drove through the dark, rain-slicked streets of St. Vincent's Harbor toward the strip mall where Tarantino's was located. The young woman she'd met the other day, Gina, had answered the phone this afternoon and said Wade would be working between four and eleven. Keely glanced at her watch. It was after seven. She ought to be able to catch him coming or going this evening.

Keely parked in the lot in front of the pizzeria and went inside, dodging the raindrops. All of the tables were full, and there was a teenage girl who was the sole waitress, rushing from one table to another and then back behind the counter as Patsy Tarantino snarled at her. Keely steeled herself for a hostile reception and walked up to the counter.

"Excuse me," she said.

Patsy turned and peered at her. "Yeah? Whaddaya want?"

"My name is Weaver," said Keely, pushing her damp hair back off her forehead. "I talked to your wife earlier. I'm looking for Wade-"

"You're not the only one," Patsy barked.

"Well, if he's not here, I don't mind waiting for a few minutes."

The man's dark eyes flashed angrily. "I don't know where he is. That worthless . . . he never came back," he growled.

Keely shook her head. "What do you mean? Where did he go?"

"Beats the h.e.l.l out of me," Patsy cried. "He went out to make adelivery, and that was the end of it. He didn't come back. He didn't call me. That was hours ago."

"But I need to see him," said Keely.

"You and me both, lady. I want my money. My customers want their pizzas. Look, I wouldn't wait around here if I was you." The waitress edged by Keely and smacked an empty tray down on the counter.

"Two meatball subs," the girl shouted.

Keely stepped out of the way and looked around the place, confused. She didn't know whether she should wait. She had steeled herself for the encounter, thinking this was going to be it. Her heart sank at the thought of going home empty-handed. She walked back out into the rainy evening and returned to her car. She got into the driver's seat, turning on the ignition and the heat.Maybe I'll wait right here,she thought,and keep an eye out for him.She checked her pocketbook for the envelope of money and then zipped the bag shut.

She turned on the radio, and it played softly in the darkened, running Bronco. She also switched on the windshield wipers when she realized that she couldn't see through the steady drizzle on her rain-spattered windshield.Why tonight?she thought.I get the nerve up to make a deal, and he disappears.She sat waiting, scrutinizing each arriving vehicle and customer, through the clear arc made by the windshield wipers, but there was no sign of Wade's car with the pizza sign. She didn't want to leave Dylan and Abby alone for too long. She felt guilty leaving her son alone on his first night home from the hospital.

After waiting an hour, she decided to quit. She would try again the next day. Putting the SUV into gear, she drove slowly through the parking lot and turned out onto the main road. A car turned into the lane behind her. She drove slowly through the downtown area, where gas stations, diners, grocery stores, and a building supply store were all alight and customers were still coming and going, despite the hour and the rain. At Quincy Street, she turned and headed for home along Cedarmill Boulevard.

But although there were still shoppers out, there were few vehicles driving the road at this hour, and she noticed that a car, behind her, had also turned onto Cedarmill. When she exited the boulevard, she was onthe unlit winding roads that led to her exclusive neighborhood. But she was not alone. The car that had been behind her on Cedarmill also made the turn and was still driving behind her-only now, the car's driver had switched the high beams on, and the reflection in her mirrors, exacerbated by the rain, was blinding.

"Turn off the d.a.m.n brights," she said aloud, knowing the other driver couldn't hear her. These roads were dark and it was difficult to see, but anybody with a driver's license knew you shouldn't use your high beams so close to another car. She flashed her own vehicle's taillights, hoping he would notice, but the car stayed steadily in her wake, just far enough behind her to keep the reflection glaring in her eyes.

"G.o.ddammit," she said. She sped up the SUV, hoping to leave the other car in the dust, but that car also picked up speed, so that it stayed the same short car length from her rear b.u.mper, the brights blazing.

For a moment, road rage almost got the best of her. But it wasn't worth having an accident over, she reminded herself.The h.e.l.l with you,Keely thought. She figured if she turned off this main road, she could make a U-turn at the next block after the obnoxious driver was gone. She signaled briefly, then turned. As she straightened out the Bronco, she realized that the car behind her had made the turn as well. All at once, she thought, with a sickening sensation in her stomach, that it was not a coincidence that she and the other driver were going in the same direction. For some reason, the car was following her-on purpose.

Keely's stomach did a flip-flop, and her hands suddenly felt clammy on the wheel.Stop it,she thought.Stop thinking like that. You're making yourself crazy. Get ahold of yourself. Just because it's a gloomy night and a lonely road, you're starting to imagine things. There's no reason in the world why anyone would be following you.

Suddenly, the high beams moved up on her and then disappeared. Before she could comprehend why she could no longer see them, she felt a jarring thud as something slammed into her rear b.u.mper. Shocked by the impact, Keely loosened her grip, and the steering wheel started to spin in her hands.Hold on,she thought. She gripped the wheel as she felt a second jolt from behind. She couldn't believe it. The car was deliberately hitting her. "Why?" she cried out. "Stop that!" But no onecould hear her. Too stunned to do more than pray and hang on, she felt her car start to slide crazily across the shining, wet road. She saw an embankment and slammed on the brakes, but the SUV was no longer in her control.G.o.d help me,she thought as the Bronco spun out and plunged down while, on the road above, the car whizzed by and disappeared into the night.

"WHAT IS IT?What's the matter?" Dylan opened the door of the nursery. By the light from the hallway and the night-light near Abby's changing table, Dylan could see Abby, standing up in her crib, her tiny fists clutching the railing, her little face red and contorted from crying.

She turned to see his silhouette in the doorway, her eyes bright with tears, and her screaming dwindled to little gusty sobs.

"You want your bottle?" he said hopefully. "Just a minute. I'll go get it. I'll warm it up for you. I'll be gone only a minute." He held up one finger as if to indicate one minute, then backed out of the room, leaving the door ajar. His disappearance from the doorway only provoked renewed screaming from Abby. He could hear her shrieks chasing him down the hall as he rushed to the kitchen, pulled the bottle from the refrigerator, and put it in the microwave.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," he yelled.

The timer dinged and he s.n.a.t.c.hed the bottle from the microwave, then rushed back toward the nursery. Just as he was pa.s.sing the foyer, the front doorbell rang.

Oh s.h.i.t,he thought. He had a feeling he knew who it would be. The old witch from next door. Probably called the cops because Abby was crying again. He had half a mind to leave her standing out there in the rain, but the doorbell rang insistently again, and he knew his mother would want him to deal with it. She had left him in charge. He walked to the door and pulled it open.

"What?" he demanded.

Nicole Warner stood on the doorstep. "Dylan?" she asked. "I'm Nicole."

"I know."

"Is that Abby crying?" she asked.

"Yeah. What do you want?"

"Don't you think you should get the baby?" she asked.

"Yeah. Come in," he mumbled as he turned away from her and went down the hallway to the nursery.

Abby was still standing in the crib, screaming, her face scarlet. Dylan lifted her up out of the crib and began to bounce her in his arms."Hey, look what I got for you," he said, but Abby pushed the proffered bottle away and redoubled her screams.

Nicole, who had followed him down the hall came forward timidly."Do you want me to try?" she asked. "I took care of her before."

Dylan handed the baby to her like a UPS package. "Be my guest," he said.

Nicole took the baby and, once Abby was secure in her arms, the bottle. "Here Abby," she cooed. "Have your bottle."

Abby continued to wail, trying to wriggle away from Nicole.

"Try the rocker," Dylan suggested. "Sometimes that works for my mom."

Nicole carried Abby to the rocker and sat down. "Where is your mom?"

Dylan glanced at the clock on Abby's wall with the cow jumping over the moon. "She went out. She should be back by now."

Nicole rocked the chair with one foot and tried to talk soothingly to the baby, whose sobs were quieting down. She nudged Abby's lips with the nipple, and finally, Abby accepted the nipple and began to suck.

"Whew," said Dylan.

"I know," Nicole whispered. She held the baby and rocked in the chair, keeping her gaze on the baby's face. "When did you get home?" she asked casually.

He realized instantly that she knew where he had been. There wasn't much point in pretending. "Today," he said.

Nicole nodded, and there was an awkward silence. Finally Nicole said, "Where'd your mom go?"

Dylan looked at the clock again. "She just went out," he said irritably. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Nicole shrugged. "I was supposed to come over here and pretend itwas my idea to ask her, and you, too, if you want, to come over for dinner tomorrow."

"Whose idea was it?" Dylan asked.

"My dad's," she said. "I think he kinda likes your mother."

"Divorced?" Dylan asked.

Nicole shook her head. She kept her gaze fastened to Abby. "My mom died."

Dylan nodded. "Oh. Sorry."

Nicole shrugged in acknowledgment.

Dylan sighed. "Well, thanks for asking, but right now, I don't know what she wants to do," he said. He walked over to the window and stared out into the darkness. "I don't even know where she is."

30.

You were lucky," said the man in coveralls who had arrived from the towing service. "d.a.m.n lucky you didn't tip over. I can't tell you how many times I've had to pull these SUVs upright after an accident like this."

Keely nodded. She was shivering uncontrollably.

"You sure you don't need to go to the hospital?" the tow truck operator asked.

"No, I'm fine," Keely whispered.

The man made some notes on a clipboard and handed it to Keely."Here, sign this. You should call the cops on that guy, you know. These kind of nuts cause more trouble. I don't know why everybody's in such a big hurry these days. I'd call 'em if I were you."

"I just want to get home," said Keely. "I have two kids waiting for me."

The driver shrugged. "Well, she's good to go. You sure you're okay now?"

"I'm okay," Keely insisted, scribbling her signature in the spot marked by an X.

The man gave Keely back her auto service card, then walked over and climbed back up into the cab of his truck. "Keep 'er in the road," he called down to Keely.

Keely nodded and climbed back into the SUV. She turned on the ignition, then slid the heat indicator as high as it would go. In a few minutes, the vehicle's interior was stifling. Keely felt her chills subsiding, but she still didn't feel ready to start driving. She picked up her cell phone out of her bag and stared at it. Then slowly, she punched in the number at home.

"h.e.l.lo?"

"Dylan," she said. "Is everything all right there?"

"Yeah, where the heck are you, Mom?"

"I'm fine. Everything's okay," she lied.

"Did you see the guy?"

"What? What guy?"

"The pizza guy."

"No," she said. "No, I didn't. I waited for a long time, but he didn't show up."

"Oh," he said. She could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"Is Abby okay?"

"Yeah. She had a meltdown, but that girl Nicole came by. She helped me sc.r.a.pe her off the ceiling."

"She's okay now?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping."

"Okay, good," Keely whispered.

"Nicole's dad wanted to ask us over for dinner or something," he said offhandedly.

Keely did not reply.

"Mom?"

"I heard you."

"What's the matter? You don't sound right," said Dylan.

"I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm on my way home. Why don't you lock the door and get up to bed. You sound very tired."

"I don't know," he said. "I'll see."

There was a silence.

"I just wanted to check," said Keely, "to be sure you and Abby were okay."

"You didn't trust me?" he asked.

"You know better," she said.

"I'll see you later," he said, hanging up.

Keely exhaled and put the phone back in her purse on the seat. She glanced up and down the street, but there was no sign of another car.It was just some nut,she told herself.He had some frustration to burn and you just happened to be in his path.That's what it had to be. It had to bebecause she couldn't allow herself to think it might have been deliberate. That someone had followed her and run her off the road on purpose. No, it wasn't possible.

Keely glanced into her mirror and put her shaking hands on the wheel. She suddenly felt afraid to get back out on the road. Part of her just wanted to sit there and weep. But she was desperate to be home, and there was only one way to get back to her children. She took a deep breath, shifted the SUV out of park, then nosed it back out onto the quiet, empty street.