Page 39 of Deadly Charade

A glint of metal in the rearview mirror caught his eye. It looked like a shiny new pickup truck. It was close enough that he could see the Dodge emblem on the hood. “Watch out,” he said. “Another truck is on our tail. It might be a local driving on these back roads like a maniac. I’ll pull over as soon as I get the chance.”

A knot formed in the pit of Bryce’s stomach. He heard the truck’s motor revving when it should be decelerating. To the right, all he could see was rocks. To the left, he saw open sky beneath the guardrail. “There’s a pull-off just a mile or so down this hill. We’ll move off the road. But I don’t like how this guy is bearing down on us.”

Kira twisted to watch out the back window. “He’s not slowing down. I think he’s going to try to—”

Boom!

“Bryce!”

Kira’s cry echoed while the Mercedes fishtailed. Bryce fought the steering wheel, trying to keep the car on the road. He pressed the gas and the engine responded like the dream it was. Kira held on tight to the grip above the door.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. But I’m going to have a seat belt bruise. You?”

“Same.”

The truck backed off slightly, revving its engine for another hit. Bryce scanned the area for any sign of an escape route.

“Keep your foot on the gas,” she said. “I’ll crawl into the back and see if I can shoot out their windshield.”

Before she could get the seat belt off, Bryce put his arm across her. “Don’t. I’m concerned about what would happen if we crash. Because I have a feeling that we’re going to wind up hitting the rocks or . . .”

No need to state the obvious. They’d be going over the side of the mountain. If they were lucky, a tree might slow their descent. If the impact didn’t kill them first.

The truck rushed to within inches of Bryce’s bumper, but this time tried to pass them.

“What are they doing—” But he realized too late the other vehicle’s intentions.

The truck sideswiped the car, shoving it toward the rock wall on the right.

“They’re trying to crush us,” Kira yelled. “I can’t get off a shot from my position.”

Bryce pumped the brakes, but another bump from the truck sent Bryce’s car careening into the rock wall. The front end folded like an accordion.

Airbags burst open.

Kira screamed from the impact.

And then, silence.

Burned rubber, smoke, and dirt stung his nose and made his eyes water. The only sounds Bryce heard were the radiator hissing and rocks and debris falling from the cliff above.

“Kira! Are you okay?”

No answer.

Glass shattered, and Bryce tried to crane his neck from his cramped position to see out the back window. The console and steering wheel had him pinned in, but he could turn enough to see a man with a ski mask and a crowbar reach through the back window and take the box containing his grandfather’s journals.

“Kira?” Oh, God, please let her be okay. “Kira!”

Still no answer and his world was spinning. He reached up and touched his head. Something warm and sticky ran through his fingers.

Blood. No wonder he felt woozy.

Lightheadedness won out, and Bryce succumbed to the darkness.

10