Page 78 of Tell Me (Savannah 3)

Despite the cool air, she began to sweat. Calm down. You’re safe, just freaked. Pull yourself together!

Reverse again.

“Not today. Not today!” Her nerves were already shot, a headache building behind her eyes. The car rocked a little. “Go, go, go!” Desperately, she wanted to get out on her own and fast, putting distance between herself and the dilapidated cabin. She could call Reed, but would prefer to tell him she’d visited the old crime scene on her own terms.

She threw the car back into drive and the tires began to spin again. This time it moved enough to find traction away from the ruts she was creating.

“That’s it,” she whispered as the tires gripped the sodden ground.

“You can do it,” she said to either the car, or herself, or both, as she eased on the gas and the car slowly inched forward, finding a little traction in the weeds.

Now drive and get the hell out of here!

Finally, the tires caught solidly, wheels no longer spinning. On solid ground, she drove in a tight circle to be facing out the way she’d come in.

She let out her breath and felt her heartbeat slow a bit. She was free, and if she stepped on it, she still had time to race home, shower, and meet Trina at Catfish Jake’s.

Headlights on, windshield wipers swishing the rain from the glass, she pulled away from the cottage and was about to reach for the radio, to find some music to calm her shattered nerves when she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw a figure in the gathering darkness.

What?!

In a blink, the image was gone. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw no one, just a huge cypress tree that she must’ve mistaken for a person. Was it her imagination? Was it? The atmosphere of the cabin had certainly gotten to her. Fighting the urge to call Reed, she set her sights on the rutted lane. There was no way out of the property but by the lane, so if she had the inclination, she could drive to the end, hide the car by the side of the main road, and follow the next car out that came along.

If there was a car.

But even so, it could be parked miles away and drive off in the other direction and—

There is no car. No one was in the mirror. Don’t let your damned paranoia get to you.

Letting out her breath, she reached to turn on the radio again, but stopped short.

Venomous eyes glared up at her from the floor in front of the passenger seat.

“Oh . . . God . . .”

Curled into a tight circle on the floor, blending into the darkened interior, the pit viper locked its reptilian gaze with hers, its arrow-tip-shaped head raised high above its coiled body.

Her heart nearly stopped.

Fear strangled her.

She stood on the brakes.

Too late.

The snake’s head twisted, its eyes, with slitted pupils, still fixed upon her.

No!

The Honda jerked around. She flung open the door and threw herself outside. The SUV skidded sideways, slewing and throwing up mud, and crashed against a fence post.

Bam! Metal crumpled. Barely breathing, Nikki ran forward and slammed the door shut, then realized her phone was in the car, which was still in gear, engine grinding.

“Damn! Hell!” She stared through the window, where the reptile was still glaring at her, unblinking eyes fixed. “Bother and blood,” she said under her breath as her heart hammered and the car’s engine still ran, inching the car forward. Now what? She’d heard snakes would rather slither away than attack, but she felt she had to keep the viper trapped. Someone had put the damned thing in her car. Hadn’t she heard the quiet thud of the door closing? The trapped snake was evidence!

Of what?

Someone trying to kill you? With a copperhead? Not likely, but . . .

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