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gun clocked it at 95. I¹ve got him, Dylan reported. 472 in pursuit. * * * * * Valerie didn¹t want sirens and flashing lights now. She was speeding and she knew it, but today she needed the cops to be busy somewhere else. She glanced in the mirror again, hoping that he was after some other car. She looked a third time because the red and blue lights on the white Camaro just didn¹t make sense. Policemen didn¹t drive Camaros. They drove black and white Crown Victorias. Big, heavy cars, not Camaros. She scowled and forced her attention back to the road. Mama, are the cops after us? Kyle¹s voice was a whisper, but he was trying, bless his soul. No, baby. Don¹t you worry. We¹re not doing anything wrong. Nothing except breaking traffic laws left and right. Valerie pushed the gas pedal to the floor, and the speedometer inched past the century mark. Speeding or not, she wasn¹t going to stop now. She slapped the horn and a motorcycle rider zipped out of her way. She darted across two lanes directly in front of an SUV. The driver leaned on his horn and flashed her with his hi beams, but Valerie didn¹t care. She shouted an apology he¹d never hear and raced on down the road. She nearly missed the hospital exit. The car fishtailed as she jerked the wheel to the right, wobbling over the reflectors set into the black top. Kyle whimpered then went quiet. Maybe it was better that he¹d passed out. Valerie choked back a curse and whipped around a pickup truck, then blasted through the stop light at the end of the off ramp. Tires squealed as she took the next left too sharply, and another chorus of car horns went up in her wake. The wail of the police siren kept coming. The cop in the Camaro wasn¹t giving up. Fine, she muttered angrily. Follow me all the way. Arrest me 83 Five Alarm Neighbor when we get there. I don¹t care! She didn¹t care as she squealed through the right turn onto the road that circled the hospital, and she ignored the one way sign on the turn she took to get to the emergency room door. She pretended not to notice the people who stopped to stare as she screeched to a stop. She was blind to the Camaro cop as he roared in behind her. All that mattered was getting Kyle to someone who could help. * * * * * Acura. Damned blue Acura. Toyota, my The driver¹s door on the Acura flew open with such force that Dylan half expected the hinges to give way. The driver leaped out of the car and ran around the hood toward the other door. She was unarmed and paying no attention to the crowd gathering to watch. Five foot five, five six at the most. Slender frame. Hundred twenty pounds. Curly, dark brown hair. Not much of a threat under ordinary circumstances, but with the way she¹d been driving, there was no telling what she had in mind. Dylan kicked his door open and had his gun in his hand the moment he was on his feet. He had great reflexes that¹d been proven in his tests but the ability to avoid stumbling while doing two things at once didn¹t keep his heart from pounding in a situation like this. Stop! California Highway Patrol. He gave it a moment to register. Not that he expected her to give up and stand still. Most of the time they didn¹t, but everyone deserved a chance. When she reached for the handle of the passenger side door, he lifted his gun. Second warning. Hands up, and step away from the car! This time the words got through to her. She jerked as if he¹d struck her, and stared wide eyed at him. She didn¹t lift her hands, though, so he repeated the command. Her expression shifted. Grief replaced panic, as if she¹d just realized where she was and what she¹d done. She did as he asked, and even from a car length away, he could see how her hands trembled. Her cheeks were pale and her eyes red rimmed. But what grabbed Dylan¹s attention was the smear of color on the palms of her hands. The muzzle of his gun 84 Anna Leigh Keaton wavered. Jesus, is that blood? 85
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