Deep Freeze (West Coast 1)

CHAPTER 22

Snow was falling again, blowing in windy swirls.

Jenna managed to climb into her rig and start the Jeep’s engine. Once she’d reversed out of Martino’s parking lot, she chanced another glance at the window of the pizza parlor. All three boys were now staring at her through the cold, frosty glass. No wonder she’d felt their gazes drilling into her back.

With a wave, and a smile as fake as fool’s gold, she drove away. “Horny, self-involved idiots,” she muttered through her plastered-on grin, then silently chastised herself for being a fraud. Yet she’d always lived by the credo of catching more flies with sugar than vinegar, so she didn’t beat herself up about being two-faced. “A means to an end,” she reminded herself, and the end was Cassie’s safety and well-being.

As she passed the courthouse, a three-s

toried, yellow-and-brown brick building constructed nearly a hundred years earlier, she glanced at the glowing windows, picked out the one that belonged to Carter, and noticed the lamps were burning. Of the few cars parked in the lot, she picked out his Chevy Blazer. So he was still on the job. She’d heard that about him, that he worked around the clock, that ever since his wife had died he’d thrown himself into his job. Local gossip had it that his wife was the victim of a one-car accident that had occurred during another harsh winter, but Jenna tried to temper every rumor she heard as being embellished over the years.

She flipped on her wipers, as the snow was coming down steadily now. Fiddling with the radio, she was hoping to find a weather report and instead landed upon a static-riddled Jimmy Buffett tune that conjured up hot sand, tropical water, and frothy drinks.

It sounded like heaven.

She hummed along. Her cell phone rang and she expected that Allie, whose patience was sometimes close to nil, was calling and checking on the pizza. She flipped open her phone and saw an L.A. phone number.

Robert.

Her stomach dropped as she answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, Jen.” Robert’s smooth baritone was interrupted by static. “I hear…we…trouble…Cassie called…and…”

“Robert, I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up.”

“…damned cell…call…” His words were spotty and crackled.

“Can you hear me?”

“…breaking…”

“Yeah, you’re breaking up, too. I’ll call you back…when I get home to a land line. Got it?”

“…Cass…”

“I can’t hear you!” she shouted as she reached a sharp corner and slowed down without hitting the brakes. The tires slid and she swung wide, into the oncoming lane. “Damn!” She dropped the phone and it slid onto the floor. The pizza carton, too, careened onto the passenger-side floor mats.

Adrenaline shot through her system as she tightened her grip over the wheel and rode out the slide, swerving as she eased back into her lane, where the tires slid again. “Oh, God,” she whispered as she shifted down, slowing the engine, feeling the tires try to grip. The cell phone crackled. She let it die and concentrated on the road, an icy ribbon of asphalt.

Snow was falling harder now, and she carefully flipped on the wipers. The cell phone rang again. She ignored it. Robert could call back or not. She didn’t really care. She just needed to get home in one piece. Besides, she was used to being a single parent. It had been nearly a week since Cassie had been caught sneaking out and her father had finally deigned to return her call. What a guy!

She had the Jeep under control finally, but her blood was still pounding, her nerves stretched tight as the road dipped and curved, edging ever closer to the Columbia River, a fierce, dark snake of frigid water tumbling madly through the gorge.

She couldn’t wait to get home, to stoke the fire, to bite into a piece of tangy pizza topped with stringy cheese and spicy pepperoni.

Maybe she’d take a bath and read the paperback she had at her bedside.

Headlights flashed in her rearview mirror.

Thank God. At least she was no longer alone. Some other idiot was driving along this isolated stretch of road winding by the river. It was comforting somehow.

She glanced back, squinting as the vehicle behind her accelerated fast, its headlights on high beam, blinding as they drew near.

Jenna took the next corner. The vehicle—a truck?—lagged behind as she took a corner, then straightened out.

On the straightaway, things changed. Quickly. The vehicle behind bore down on her. Fast. Too fast for the icy conditions. “What in the world?” Jenna lightly touched her brakes. A warning for the driver to back off. No such luck. Bright headlights dimmed off and on, flashing back. As if it were some kind of game.

The driver was messing with her? When the roads were freezing? But that was crazy.