Page 80 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

She was cold and wet and terrified. She had her handgun, but she’d much rather stay out of sight than have to use it. To be on the safe side, she paused long enough to slide it from its holster, undo the safety, and shove it in her pocket.

She reached the road and bolted toward town, keeping to the shadows on the far side. Whoever was after her would lose her tracks on the pavement.

But she couldn’t remain exposed.

After what she judged had been about fifty yards, she leapt into the woods on the opposite side, trying to keep her tracks to a minimum. She climbed until she thought she was well-hidden and snatched her phone from her pocket. Thank God it was there. Thank God she hadn’t tossed it on the console or left it in her purse.

She prayed for service. She’d just passed the condos, right? There could still be service here. She dialed 9-1-1 and rejoiced at the operator’s voice.

She whispered, “I’m on Rattlesnake Road. Someone rammed into me and forced my car off the road. I think he’s coming after me.”

The woman got all the information and promised to send help.

But Aspen was ten minutes outside of town. How long would it be before the police arrived?

Would whoever held that flashlight find her before then? She needed a way out of the woods, and she needed it now.

She dialed again.

Garrett answered on the first ring. “Hey, how was your?—?”

“I need help. I think someone’s after me.”

She told him what had happened.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

She slid her phone into her pocket. Maybe she shouldn’t have called him. Had she put him in danger? But in that moment, all she wanted was off the mountain. And away from whoever was following her.

She kept low and silent and waited a few yards from the road.

Long minutes passed before the sound of an engine reached her. Headlights approached, the vehicle going very slowly. That had to be Garrett.

She bolted into the road and lifted her hands to get his attention.

He did a U-turn and stopped right beside her. The passenger door flew open. “Get in.”

She’d barely closed the door when he hit the gas.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Itold you, he rammed into me. Twice.”

Detective Pollard nodded at Aspen the way people do when they think you’re insane but don’t want to say so.

Garrett could feel fury dripping off her body like the snow from her parka.

They’d been at the police station for an hour at least. Aspen had told a uniformed officer her story no fewer than three times before this detective, a fifty-something man with a full head of curly black hair—brought them into a small conference room. The door was closed, but through the window in the door, Garrett could see a handful of officers going about their evening business.

“How long had he been following you?” Pollard asked.

“He hadn’t been. He came flying up behind me.”

“And then he just rammed you?”

“I thought he was trying to pass me, but then his car hit mine.”

“Why didn’t you just pull over?”

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