Target

They were coming! They'd find her! Go, go, go, she urged herself. Propelled by a greater fear than she'd ever known, Kathryn raced down the hall, through the outer doors, down the stairs and into the parking garage. Gasping for breath, she nearly leaped into her car.

Her hands were shaking so badly she needed both of them to get the key in the ignition. Heavy feet pounding down the stairs warned her to hurry. Finally she shoved hard, the key slid in, the engine started, she threw the car into reverse and backed out.

As the door from the stairs to the parking area banged open and Peter and another man came barreling through, she put the car in drive and slammed her foot on the accelerator, speeding toward the street, tires screeching, rainwater splashing against the doors. In seconds she lost herself in the rat's nest of traffic on Dale Mabry Highway, Tampa's busiest major thoroughfare.

Weaving back and forth in the lanes, her view distorted by the rain that had not let up all day, she prayed harder than she'd ever prayed in her life.

Please don't let them be able to follow me, find me.