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concert. She understood why her grandfather wanted her to let the FBI handle everything, but she also knew she couldn’t live like that again. She couldn’t live under the microscope they would put her under. If he thought she would be safe hiding out in Pinewood, certainly she would be.
    Her grandfather had insisted on taking several precautions, beginning with having her drive her classic Mustang from LA to Phoenix instead of the new car she’d bought the year before. He’d explained that her new car had a GPS tracking system, as did her cell phone, which was why she now had a disposable cell phone in her purse. Her regular one was turned off and tucked in one of her dresser drawers at home. She had also started using cash so no one would be able to track her credit card activity.
    Already, her appearance was quite different from her public image. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a ponytail that fed through the back of her baseball cap, and her face was clear of makeup. Even the most devoted fans would have to look twice before seeing any resemblance between the woman she was at the moment and the successful singer she had built herself into.
    She checked her rearview mirror to make sure, once again, that no one was following her. Relieved that there weren’t any cars in sight, she focused once more on the town ahead. The little town wasn’t much more than a few businesses on the main road and a lot of vacation homes.
    Parking lots were empty and snow covered, except for a pickup truck in front of the only diner in town. If memory served, the owner was one of the few people who lived in Pinewood year round. Sure enough, smoke curled from the chimney of the little cabin right behind the diner.
    Kendra smiled to herself as she considered that she was finally about to find out what real privacy was all about. She tried to remember the last time she had been alone, really alone, and couldn’t come up with a single memory. Someone was always tagging along behind her to keep her on schedule or to make sure no one got too close to her.
    She came to a stop sign, her car skidding a bit as she turned onto the dirt road that led farther up the mountain. Part of her hoped the snow would continue until she wouldn’t have a choice but to stay for a while. She knew the weather was unpredictable here, especially during the month of February.
    Her car struggled upward, the snow getting deeper as she climbed higher up the mountain. Realizing that her car wasn’t likely to make it up the steep hill in front of her, she turned a block early, intending to circle around and come in the back way. She edged down the road parallel to her family’s cabin, pleased that the car was now able to make steady progress. She turned at the next crossroad, and the vehicle immediately slid toward the center of the road. Kendra tried to compensate, but she angled too sharply, and the car came to a rumbling stop at the side of the road.
    “Great,” Kendra muttered to herself. She tried to ease the car forward but to no avail. Then she shifted into reverse. The car rocked back a few inches, but when she tried to move forward again, the wheels simply spun in the deepening snow.
    She leaned her head against the wheel, exhaustion and frustration pushing her emotions to the edge. Tears threatened but were quickly conquered. Only another quarter mile and she would be safe and warm. That thought kept her going, giving her the strength to push the car door open and step out into the snow. Immediately, she looked down at her sandals and the snow that seeped between her toes. Then she studied the car tires. One look was all it took to realize that her car wasn’t going anywhere.
    She popped open the trunk so she could change into her tennis shoes. She stared at the contents as reality hit her. Her gym bag with her tennis shoes was indeed in the trunk of her car. Her other car. She was going to have to carry her things more than a quarter of a mile in the