she might have hit it in midair, sending its heavy body smashing into her windshield. Or she might have swerved and rolled the vehicle off the road’s steep shoulder.
Still shaking, she drove on. If the timing had been off by a sliver, she could have died back there—without saying good-bye to Erin, and without ever letting Will know she loved him. Life was fragile, and no one was ever truly safe. A heartbeat could change everything.
As the lights of Blanco Springs came into sight, she tried to shake off the dark mood. She’d had an exhausting day, she reminded herself. With the trial behind her, all she needed was a good night’s rest. Tomorrow everything would be back to normal.
Everything was going to be fine.
* * *
Stella double-checked the locks on her apartment door and windows before she settled onto the sofa, poured herself a brandy, and opened the newspaper she’d brought home from work. Every night she scanned the pages, hoping for news of Marie’s arrest. So far, she’d found nothing. Either the hoped-for story hadn’t been worth a mention in the press, or the woman was still out there somewhere, hiding from the law and plotting her revenge.
Nothing again tonight. Stella shoved the paper aside, lit a Marlboro, and hoisted her aching feet to the coffee table. Days from now, she’d be safe, where nobody, not even Marie, would ever find her.
A week had passed since the trial. Will Tyler’s acquittal had left a bitter taste in her mouth. But never mind. She had a backup plan, one that would guarantee her a comfortable retirement and devastate the whole Tyler family.
All that remained was to carry it out.
She took a drag on the cigarette and laid it in the ashtray. It was almost midnight, time to check in with her Mexican friend Don Ramon, who’d be waiting for her call in the bedroom of his stately hacienda, south of Piedras Negras.
He picked up on the first ring. “Is everything ready?” His English was accented but passable.
“Almost. Can you guarantee the border crossing?”
“Como no. Of course. As long as I know when you’ll be there.”
“I’ll call you when I’m on my way. Have you found a buyer?”
“More than one. The bids are still going up. Forty percent of the final price for me, yes?”
“Fine.” The rascal would probably hold out for even more, but never mind. She couldn’t do this without him.
“It would help to have a photo,” he said.
“I don’t have one, but I promise you, the girl’s a beauty. Blue eyes, blond hair. And very young. Your friends always go for that type.”
“You’re sure she’s virgin?”
“You’ll have her checked, of course, but I’d stake my life on it. She’s from a good family. Very protected.”
“So it will be tomorrow, you think?”
“Tomorrow after school, if all goes well,” Stella said, trying not to think of how many things could go wrong. “I’ll be crossing the border at night. Wait for my call. If I’m not coming, I’ll let you know.”
“Buena suerte,” he said, wishing her good luck.
“Adiós, amigo.” Stella ended the call. Now everything depended on luck—and on Clay Drummond. She would give him a call tomorrow to make sure everything was on. When she knew he had the girl, it would be time for the rest of her plan.
* * *
By 3:00 p.m., Clay was sweating bullets. Kidnapping was a federal offense. Get caught, and he could be put away for life. But even that couldn’t be any worse than what would happen if Stella released that surveillance tape.
Anyway, he wouldn’t really be kidnapping, he told himself as he cruised past the middle school and pulled onto a side street. He’d only be giving the kid a ride. What happened after that would be out of his hands. He could only hope Stella would keep her promise and give him the tape.
For the past few days, he’d kept an eye on Erin Tyler. She usually left school at 3:15 p.m., walking with a girlfriend. When they reached the top of her street, the two would separate. Erin would walk the rest of the way alone, let herself into the house, and wait for her mother to come home.
This afternoon Tori was in court on a civil case—Clay had checked to make sure. If her daughter followed her customary routine, he would put the plan in motion. What he was setting out to do would be the most despicable thing he’d ever done. But he mustn’t think of