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so we can get some food. That way it won’t look like we’re trying to flush him out.”
    The Camry followed them, but then turned left at the light. They continued straight before turning into the restaurant’s parking lot.
    “So I was wrong,” she said.
    “Not necessarily. Order me a number one and we’ll see if he comes back.”
    She gave him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding look.
    “Please.” His stomach rumbled helpfully. “See?”
    Once they were on the freeway again, Mick dug into his food. “Want a fry?” he offered.
    Jenna wrinkled her nose and shook her head, checking the rearview mirror for the twentieth time in a minute.
    “Seriously? How can you resist?” He held it under her nose.
    She pushed his hand away impatiently. “They’re dripping in oil.”
    “But they’re so good.” He took a bite of crispy potato and almost moaned. Nothing soothed a hangover like fatty foods. “It’s okay to splurge every now and then. There’s a fine line between being healthy and obsessive, you know. Don’t be afraid to enjoy life a little.”
    “I enjoy life just fine,” she said, defensiveness creeping into her voice, “but that doesn’t mean I have to do it your way.”
    “If you did it my way, honey, you’d be on your back right now.”
    Mick froze. Fuck. One of these days he really needed to learn to control his mouth. He held his breath and waited. He wouldn’t put it past Jenna to leave him on the side of the road. He wouldn’t blame her either.
    “Huh,” she said as if puzzled, her eyes never leaving the freeway. “I was thinking it would be more fun on top.”
    His jaw dropped. Then he laughed. Da-yumn. Not in a million years would he have expected that from her. He was still trying to figure out how to respond when she grabbed his arm and squeezed hard.
    “He’s back.”

    Jenna glanced at the Camry in her rearview mirror again and briefly wondered if she was dreaming. Maybe this whole horrible week had been a particularly detailed nightmare. Maybe Rob was still alive, and Mick was not sitting next to her swinging back and forth between unrepentant playboy, hungover loser, and determined protector.
    And maybe someone wasn’t following them. As gratifying as it was to be right, she would have preferred not to be. She’d played leapfrog with other travelers on long drives before, but this was different, and she no longer wanted to let Mick out of the car.
    “Do you think he’s following me or you?”
    Mick’s jaw clenched. “No clue.” He was back in warrior mode. “I guess we’re about to find out.” They were moments away from the pub where she’d picked him up the night before.
    “What do I do if he follows me?” she asked, holding the steering wheel in a death grip.
    He glanced at her. “It’ll be fine. Do you have your cell phone?”
    “Of course.”
    Mick laid out the plan while she drove. Five minutes later, she was parked next to his Camaro in the lot of the now-closed pub. The building looked a lot shabbier in daytime with its peeling wood siding and all the weeds growing through the cracks on the edge of the asphalt. After Mick hopped out, she waited as his car rumbled to life with a throaty growl. Then, as agreed, she drove toward home while he detoured to a nearby shopping center.
    For the first few miles, she didn’t see the car, but as she approached Manassas, a different vehicle caught her attention. This time, it was a gray Taurus. She couldn’t say what made it stand out—just that it was always there, hovering about the same distance away.
    You should always trust your instincts, Mick had said.
    She checked her mirror. The Taurus hung back in the pack, one lane over. Testing, she exited onto Sudley Road and fell into the busy traffic along the suburb’s main business route. The gray sedan followed her, careful to stay several cars behind. Her heart went into overdrive. Now what?
    Her cell phone rang and she jumped in her seat, giving herself a second to