that now. Instead he would focus on getting the tape back and freeing himself to move on with his life.
Now, from where he’d parked, he could see students pouring out of the school. It took him only a moment to spot Erin. Dressed in jeans and boots, with her backpack slung over one shoulder, she was heading down the sidewalk with her dark-haired friend. Clay hung back, keeping his distance until the two separated and Erin turned the corner for home.
He took a moment to call Stella and tell her the plan was on. Then, stepping on the gas, he sped around the corner after Erin and screeched to a halt, short of the house. With a worried look on his face, he pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window. Erin had stopped and turned to look at him.
“Thank goodness I’ve found you, Erin!” he said. “Your mother passed out in court. She’s been taken to the hospital. Your dad’s on his way there. He asked me to find you and bring you.”
Fear flashed in her eyes. “What’s the matter with her? Is she all right?”
He reached across the seat and opened the passenger door. “Get in. We can talk on the way.”
She ran around the car, tossed her backpack into the rear seat, and buckled herself in beside him. “Let’s go,” she said.
Clay swung the Mercedes back into the street and headed for the road out of town. Stella would be waiting in an isolated spot off the freeway. The transfer would’ve been safer at night, but they’d agreed there was little chance of catching the girl alone, outside, after dark.
“Tell me about my mother,” she said. “What’s wrong with her?”
“The paramedics weren’t sure. She was still unconscious when they put her in the ambulance. A stroke, maybe, they said.”
Such brutal lies, and the girl looked so worried, so trusting. It was all Clay could do not to tell her it was all a mistake and shove her out of the car. But he’d long since passed the point of no return. He had to do this.
* * *
“Let me call my dad.” She twisted to reach for the backpack she’d thrown behind the seat. “Maybe he can tell us more.”
“No!” Clay tried to hide a surge of panic. If she got her hands on her phone, he’d be in big trouble. “Either your dad will be speeding to the hospital or he’ll be in the ER with your mother—not a good time to take a call. You can talk to him when we get there.”
“Oh—okay. But hurry.” She settled back, agitated fingers gripping the seat belt. Clay could smell the stink of his own sweat as he swung onto the freeway. His heart was pounding so hard, he feared he might burst a blood vessel.
Take the second exit, onto the old ranch road. That was what Stella had told him. Drive till you see some cottonwoods and a tumbledown shed. I’ll meet you there.
The exit was already coming up. Clay swung the Mercedes onto the off-ramp.
“Where are you going?” Erin grabbed his sleeve. “This isn’t the way to the hospital!”
“I heard there was a big wreck up ahead. A semitruck rollover, blocking traffic. This road will get us around it.” Clay could see the trees in the distance. The asphalt pavement had ended in a weathered farm road. What the hell would he do if Stella wasn’t there?
“How do you know there was a wreck? Who told you?” She was getting suspicious, Clay could tell. He stomped the gas pedal. The Mercedes shot forward, rocketing down the rutted road. He thought of the chloroform-soaked rag, sealed in a plastic bag, which he’d put in his pocket. He was going to need it.
“Stop!” she said. “Stop right now! I want to call my father!”
“Fine. Go ahead.” Clay eased the car to a stop. One hand reached into his pocket and unsealed the ziplock on the bag. Hampered by the seat belt, she turned to reach for her pack.
“I’m sorry, Erin,” Clay said, and he clapped the cloth over her face. The girl barely had time to resist before the chloroform took effect and her body went limp.
Leaving her sagging against the shoulder strap, Clay started the car again and sped toward the trees. Now he could see the dilapidated shed and the back end of Stella’s Buick parked behind it. She was here. Soon this nightmare would be over, and he could start living his life