on file to cross match them.
Having a new case to work on would help keep him busy. But first he needed to see what the forensic team came up with. Otherwise, he’d have nothing to go on, which wouldn’t help keep Rachel and her son safe.
And he wasn’t about to lose another mother and child on his watch.
* * *
Rachel managed to get some work done before heading out to take Joey to his last basketball game before the Christmas holiday. The drive to the school, located on the outskirts of town, was uneventful. The game turned out to be a lot of fun and her son scored four points, edging their team to a ten to eight victory. Joey and his teammates were loud and rambunctious as they celebrated, and Rachel felt more at ease as the night unfolded. But as she and Joey headed home, she noticed a big black truck keeping pace behind her. No matter what speed she chose to go, the truck remained right behind her.
Detective Butler had warned her to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. At the moment, the truck certainly seemed suspicious, but maybe she was letting her imagination get the better of her. She didn’t recall seeing a truck behind her on the way to the basketball game or parked anywhere along the long country road outside the school.
So how would the driver of the black truck know where to find her? How would anyone have access to Joey’s basketball schedule? Maybe this was nothing more than a coincidence.
She did her best to keep her expression neutral as Joey relived every moment of winning the basketball game.
“Did you see my last basket? The coach said it was amazing and that without my score we might not have won the game. Isn’t that awesome, Mom?” he asked for the third time. “I can’t wait until our next tournament. Coach said I can be in the starting lineup!”
“The game was awesome,” she agreed, looking once again in her rearview mirror. Was the truck gaining on them? Darkness came early in December so it was hard to gauge the distance. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator. For the first time she bemoaned the fact she’d traded in her high-powered sports car for a four-cylinder eco-friendly hybrid last year. The hybrid’s engine chugged as she fought to increase her speed.
The truck edged closer, and she glanced helplessly around at the winding country road she’d taken to avoid the traffic on the interstate. Was the driver of the truck behind her the same person who’d sent her the threatening letters? Was he working for someone linked to the Mafia?
Swallowing hard, she drew her cell phone out of the front pocket of her sweatshirt and pushed the preprogrammed number for Nick Butler. He’d told her to call day or night and, thankfully, seven-thirty in the evening wasn’t too late. She held her breath until he answered.
“Butler.”
“It’s Rachel. We’re being followed by a black truck license plate number TYG-555. We’re on Handover Road, just past Highway 12.”
“Mom? What’s going on?” Joey swiveled in his seat, finally realizing that something was wrong.
“Hang tight, I’m not far away. I’ll be right there,” Nick said in a calm, reassuring tone.
“Hurry,” she urged, before sliding the phone back into her pocket and returning both hands to the wheel. She increased her speed more, wondering why Nick would be so close, when suddenly, the truck rammed into her from behind, causing the steering wheel to jerk in her hands as the car swerved dangerously. She and Joey were wearing their seat belts, but she wasn’t sure the restraint would be enough to prevent them from being harmed. “Hang on, Joey!” she shouted as she fought to stay in control.
“Mom!” Joey screamed as the truck rammed into them again, and this time, she couldn’t prevent the car from slamming into the guardrail with a sickening lurch. She tried to ride against the rail, but the car spun out of control, doing a complete three-sixty before hitting the side rail again, thankfully on the driver’s side.
The impact caused the airbags to explode in their faces. Pain radiated through her face and chest. “Joey!” she shrieked, frantic to know her son was all right.
The car came to an abrupt halt, but the driver’s side door was bent inward to the point of pinning her left foot. She batted away the air bags as she frantically reached over for her son. “Joey? Are you all right?”
“Yeah,” he said, between hiccuping sobs. “I think so.”
Coughing as air bag dust filled her lungs, she tried again to get her foot out from the twisted hunk of metal. When that didn’t work, she reached over to help Joey get out of his seat belt. “I need you to get out of the car, Joey. Run away and get help. Find Detective Butler. Do you understand me? You need to get away from here and find Detective Nick Butler.”
“Not without you,” he cried.
“I’ll be right behind you,” she said, even though she wasn’t sure she’d be able to wrench herself free. “Now go. Hurry!”
Somehow, Joey managed to crawl out of the passenger-side window, which was completely busted open. She pulled, gritting her teeth against the pain as she tried to yank out her pinned foot.
Through the open window she saw Joey stagger a bit before he managed to pick up his pace enough to run. She heard the distant wailing of a police siren and hoped that was Nick, as she shifted in her seat again, determined to find a way to get free.
But then she saw a large man dressed completely in dark clothing, recognizing him as the driver of the big black truck that had caused her to crash. Through the glow of her headlights, she saw him take off running after her son. “No! Joey!” she screamed, ripping her foot out of her shoe, finally gaining freedom. “No!”
Too late. The tall stranger easily scooped up her son and dropped a black hood over Joey’s head before taking off with him thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Joey struggled against him, but the guy never hesitated, ignoring her son’s kicks and punches.
“No!” she wailed, scrambling to get out of the crushed car. She threw herself across to the passenger seat and wiggled her way through the broken window. “Stop! Joey!”
But the moment she fell from the window onto the paved road, the big black truck engine rumbled to life and pulled away, tires screeching, with her son trapped inside.
TWO
Nick slammed his foot down hard on the accelerator, racing to Rachel’s location, his heart pounding in his chest. Earlier that day, he hadn’t been entirely convinced her stalker was really someone from the Mafia. But the threats had been enough that he couldn’t bear to leave her totally on her own, so he’d followed Rachel to her son’s basketball game without telling her he was nearby.
Now he realized his instincts had been right on. The panic in her tone gripped him by the throat and he couldn’t help feeling that this was his fault for not doing more to keep her safe. He saw Rachel and Joey leaving the school after the game, but at that moment he’d taken a call from his boss, questioning why he’d taken on Rachel’s stalker case. He’d explained about the possible mob connection, which had eased his captain’s concern. But in the time it had taken him to placate his boss, Rachel and Joey had disappeared from sight.
His fault for not telling her he was there. And if something
