Second Honeymoon Part 38

It was the sound she heard first.

The roar of an engine behind her, so loud it was as if she were standing in the middle of a runway at Dulles International Airport. The second she spun around, she was blinded by a pair of headlights. The lights were getting bigger. Very quickly, too. The car was heading straight at her.

No time for overthinking this. She dove. Part leap. Part cartwheel. Straight between the two Dumpsters to her right, the asphalt practically knocking the wind out of her as she landed.

Make and model! License plate! Get something!

But by the time she could look up and focus, his car was turning the corner, gone. It was so dark out that she couldn't even tell what color the car was. She got nothing.

No, wait-not quite. She still had her own car.

Sarah pushed herself up, sprinting in the direction of her rental car. She could still catch him, she thought. h.e.l.l, yeah, let's see what this Camaro can do!

"s.h.i.t!" she screamed the second she laid eyes on it.

Jared Sullivan knew who she was, all right. He knew what car she was driving, too.

Sarah stopped at the right rear tire, flat to the rim. Ditto for the left rear one. "s.h.i.t!" she yelled again. "s.h.i.t! s.h.i.t! s.h.i.t!"

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had slashed all four tires, and as if to rub it in he left his folding knife resting on the hood of the car.

Only it wasn't his knife.

Sarah picked it up with the bottom of her shirt, then took out her phone for some light. There were initials inscribed on the ivory handle. J.O.

John O'Hara.

It was his fishing knife. And it was no longer missing. Sarah had found another piece of the puzzle.

Chapter 59

SARAH CALLED DAN Driesen the next morning to brief him. She didn't want to make the call, but she had to. It was like going to the dentist. To have a tooth pulled. Without Novocain.

"h.e.l.l, Sarah, you're supposed to be chasing him, not the other way around," he said in a tone that was bordering on ticked off but nonetheless contained a hint of genuine concern. "He could've killed you."

"That's just it. He could've killed me, but he didn't," she said, standing by the window of her third-floor room at the Emba.s.sy Suites. Nothing but cacti and highway as far as the eye could see. "He was probably hiding at the lake and saw me with the local police. From that moment on he could've killed me at any time, and he chose not to."

"So now you're saying he didn't try to run you over with his car?"

"Think about it. If he really wanted to, why did he flip on his headlights?"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? He knows who you are, and that's not good."

"Maybe I can turn it to my advantage. I'm thinking about that possibility now."

"Really?" Driesen asked, incredulous. "How?"

"I haven't figured that part out yet, but I will. Before he changes his mind and comes back to get me."

"In the meantime, you have no idea where he is or where he's heading. Unless, of course, you're going to tell me you've cracked those clues he's been leaving behind."

"Hey, I got here from Ulysses, didn't I?"

"Yes, courtesy of a lucky break, don't you think? Any thoughts on where You've Got Mail is going to put him next?" he asked sarcastically. "Should we be trying to find a John O'Hara who works for the post office?"

The really crazy thing was, Sarah had already considered that.

She hated to admit it, but Driesen's point was valid. The John O'Hara Killer still had the upper hand on her. And, yes, maybe even more so now.

"There's still a lot I can do out here, though," she said. "I haven't even begun to work the town. Maybe he interacted with other people."

"Maybe. But I don't want you having to look over your shoulder all the time. Whatever game you think he might be playing, who's to say it doesn't end with you getting killed?"

"So that's that?"

"For now, at least. You're coming home," he said. "Besides, there's someone back here who's requested a briefing from you."

"Who?"

Driesen chuckled. She could practically see his sly smile through the phone.

"Who is it?" she repeated.

"You'll see," he said. "Come home, Sarah. That's an order, by the way."

Chapter 60

"YOU COULD'VE GIVEN me a heads-up," Sarah whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "Seriously."

Dan, sitting in the chair right next to hers, folded his long legs under the seat. It was bright and early the next morning in D.C., barely 7:00 a.m. "Nah, that would've just made you nervous," he whispered back.

"Like I'm not nervous now? I am very nervous. And I don't ever get nervous."

As if on cue, the door next to them opened. An older woman with a mother-hen aura walked out, giving them a slight nod. She was clutching a clipboard against her chest.

"The president will see you now," she said.