Page 2 of When You're Safe

Maggie kept herself close to therock face and rushed forward faster, picking up the pace. The sooner she wasoff the road, the better.

The swishing sound of the electricengine and tires on the road increased, approaching ever closer, and yet thesource of it was still hidden, an unseen menace stuck in Maggie’s mind like aglass splinter.

Faster, Maggie. Come on!

Maggie broke into a full run asshe finally passed the corner, bringing the now plateauing road ahead intoview. But if relief and happiness were indeed the same to Maggie, neither werenow apparent.

The road was bare and empty, but forone feature: A tree had fallen and was partly blocking the way. Its longstill-leafed branches jutted out several feet onto the road on the left-handside. Just beyond that, Maggie’s apprehensive gaze fell upon the green woodensign she had been searching for. It pointed into the narrow woodland path.

But getting to it was going to bea problem. The fallen tree was in her way, and although the rock face to herleft would give way to the woodland up ahead, in her current position, it wasstill there alongside her, an imposing companion stopping her from escaping tothe side of the road.

The sound of the car was now definitelycoming from behind, and with this knowledge she continued on, worried that thedriver wouldn’t see her as she ran just past the turn.

Looking over her shoulder to theblind corner, obscuring all that she had already traversed, she could see nocar yet. But Maggie knew that the fallen tree would momentarily put her indanger.

She reached it and looked over hershoulder again.

Still no car, though the strange,low hum was still increasing in volume.

She waited for a moment to see ifthe car would appear. It did not.

Maggie sighed impatiently anddecided to take a chance. She moved around the branches, putting hermomentarily on the wrong side of the road.

Now, finally, a red car emergedfrom behind the turn, and it was moving at a far too aggressive speed for aroad that precarious and that high up.

Maggie knew that the car wouldhave to go around the tree, too, and she wasn’t certain that at that speed, thedriver would see it in time. Apprehension moved through her as she worried thatan accident was only seconds away. She had to get to safety.

She moved as fast as she could,the car now bearing down toward her. Panicked, she rushed carelessly, her whitetop catching on a thick broken branch. It scratched the side of her skinbeneath the cloth, drawing blood.

Maggie let out a gasp as shepulled at the branch, trying to free herself. With several forceful yanks, shemanaged to wrestle herself from the grips of the tree’s finger-like branches,but the jolt thrust her backwards.

She fell onto the ground andlooked up.

The car screeched up ahead like amechanical beast crying out. Maggie tried to scramble up onto her feet, but itwas too late. The brakes thudded, the smell of burning rubber invading the air,and the car headed straight toward Maggie. She didn’t have time to scream.

Somewhere a bird sang, and Maggie’sbroken body lay motionless on the quiet road.

CHAPTER ONE

Finn Wright sat in the Londoncoffee shop, listening in frustration to the man in a gray suit sitting beforehim. The suit was Philip C. Reid, a meticulous lawyer in his early sixties withan obvious hair transplant, thick glasses, and expensive leather shoes.

The coffee place was busy, even inthe hot, sunny weather, and the hum of conversation and the occasional clinkingof cups were more appealing to Finn than what was being said. Sometimes, hejust didn’t want to hear the truth, even if it came wrapped up in an Americanaccent that made Finn pine for home.

Weeks earlier, before he decidedto vacation in the UK, Finn was being investigated for the daring rescue of ahostage during a manhunt. The hostage was saved, but Finn had disobeyed adirect order going in, and even with the positive outcome, there had beensubstantial damage during the firefight. After the investigation, he was nowbeing prosecuted for that damage, and it remained uncertain as to whether hewould ever be able to refer to himself as a special agent with the FBI everagain. He knew he might even end up financially destitute if he were heldculpable for the damages.

He sat there for a moment, hismind wandering to the sweet smell of cinnamon pastries baking behind thecounter nearby.

“Finn,” Philip said, “I didn’t spendten hours flying to London for you to ignore me.”

Finn looked down at the largebrown leather couch he was sitting on. It dipped underneath as though thesprings had given up the ghost from a million customers parking theirposteriors on it over the years.

He bounced up and down on itgently.

“Honestly,” he said, “I think thisthing could give at any moment. Then Philip, my man, we’d have a realcourt case on our hands. Tell me. How much would a fella get for injury bycouch? I could spill my coffee on me if that would grease the wheels.”

Philip shook his head. “Sewardsaid you’d be difficult, but I didn’t realize how much.”

Director Seward, Finn’s boss, wassupposed to be staying out of the investigation, but, in an unofficialcapacity, he was trying to make sure Finn stayed in a job.

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