“Seat belt!” I shouted in my mom-voice as a bullet struck the back window. I hit the gas pedal hard, leaving a trail of rubber. Taillights flashed behind me as the other driver got in his car and made a three-point turn in the road.
Steven buckled himself in. “Holy shit, Finn. This is a fucking Aston Martin!”
“I know what it is, Steven.”
“Just, tell me the truth. Where’d you get the car?”
“It’s not important. Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
He handed it over. I powered it off and pitched it out the window. Steven opened his mouth to argue, snapping it closed when I held up a stern finger. When the speedometer climbed over a hundred, he pressed back in his seat. “You’re going a little fast. Maybe you should slow down.”
“Now is not the time to criticize my driving!”
“Right. Sorry.” He twisted to look behind us. “I see his high beams. I think he’s following us.”
“Did you get a look at him back there when he passed you?”
“No, his brights were on. Looked like a sedan. Maybe a Chevy.”
Joey drove a Chevy sedan. But so did a lot of people. “What color?”
“I don’t know. It was dark. And I don’t want to let him get close enough to find out.” Steven turned back to the windshield, ducking his head to check out our surroundings. “There’s going to be a blind intersection on your left, about a mile ahead. If you can make the turn before he rounds the bend, shut your lights off. Maybe we can shake him.”
I pressed down harder on the gas. I could feel Steven watching me. Could feel all the questions building in the tense space between us. Yellow warning signs appeared ahead. I braked into the sharp curve of the road, caught sight of the turn, and killed the lights as I jerked the wheel hard to the left. I took my foot off the brake, praying I didn’t collide with anything in the dark. We both held our breaths. A moment later, EasyClean’s headlights rushed past the rear window.
“I think we lost him,” Steven said, checking over his shoulder. “Let’s get out of here before he circles back.”
I put the headlights on, letting Steven navigate us through a maze of backcountry roads until we finally came to an intersection I recognized.
“Pull in there.” Steven pointed to the empty parking lot of a strip mall. We turned in to an alley behind a grocery store and parked the Aston behind a dumpster. I shut off the engine, the silence in the car sudden and heavy as I rested my forehead against the steering wheel.
Steven leaned against the passenger door to look at me. “You want to start from the beginning?”
“Not really.” I was too exhausted to explain. All I wanted was to get home and hug my kids. “Someone wants to kill you, Steven. I don’t know who. But they were angry enough to post an ad online, offering to pay a hit man a hundred thousand dollars to get rid of you, preferably before Christmas. Any idea who it might be?”
Steven’s face blanched in the dim light. “When I recognized your voice on the security recording the night of the fire, I just assumed this was all some big scheme.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying not to lose my temper. “I was there looking for clues, trying to figure out who wanted my children’s father dead.”
“That’s why you were spying on me at the Christmas tree lot,” he said, finally catching on. “Because you were afraid they would come after me while I was with the kids.”
I nodded, my hands still shaking as I pushed my hair back from my face. “I think the hit man took your phone that night so he could track your movements more easily.”
“The gas leak at the house … the tires on my truck? That was all him?”
“Everything but the fire. That,” I said with a dark chuckle, “was Bree’s mother, but apparently she had nothing to do with the ad or any of the attempts on your life.”
Steven was quiet as he let that sink in. “So that’s why you kidnapped me and took me to the motel. Because you knew this guy was after me and you thought you’d keep me safe.” He shook his head. “Jesus, Finn. Why didn’t you just tell me?” My mouth flew open. Steven held up a hand, closing his eyes, as if he realized his mistake the moment the words were out. “I know. You tried. And I didn’t listen. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice softening. “So what now?”
I leaned my head against the window. “I wish I knew.”