Silent Run - Barbara Freethy [1]
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Onyx, an imprint of New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Copyright © Barbara Freethy, 2008 All rights reserved
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ISBN: 1-4295-9996-0
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publisher’s note
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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To Terry, Logan, and Kristen for all their love and support
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Many thanks go to Andrea Cirillo and Annelise Robey at the Jane Rotrosen Literary Agency for always providing such great support and inspiration. I also appreciate the many hours of brainstorming, lunches, chocolate, and Starbucks coffee shared with Candice Hern, Carol Grace, Bella Andre, Monica McCarty, Tracy Grant, Jami Alden, Anne Hearn, Kate Moore, Lynn Hanna, Barbara McMahon, and Diana Dempsey. I couldn’t have done it without them. Also thanks to the Fog City Divas, who help keep me up to date on everything happening in the world of books, at www.fogcitydivas.com.
Prologue
Large raindrops streamed against her windshield as she sped along the dark, narrow highway north of Los Angeles She’d been traveling for over an hour along the wild and beautiful Pacific coastline. She’d passed the busy beach cities of Venice and Santa Monica, the celebrity-studded hills of Malibu and Santa Barbara. Thank God it was a big state. She could start over again, find a safe place to stay, but she had to get there first.
The pair of headlights in her rearview mirror drew closer with each passing mile. Her nerves began to tighten, and goose bumps rose along her arms and the back of her neck. She’d been running too long not to recognize danger. But where had the car come from? She’d been so sure that no one had followed her out of LA. After sixty miles of constantly checking her rearview mirror she’d begun to relax, but now the fear came rushing back.
It was too dark to see the car behind her, but there was something about the speed with which it was approaching that made her nervous. She pressed her foot down harder on the gas, clinging to the wheel as gale-force winds blowing in off the ocean rocketed through the car, making the driving even more treacherous.
A few miles later the road veered inland. She looked for a place to exit. Finally she saw a sign for an upcoming turnoff heading into the Santa Ynez Mountains. Maybe with a few twists and turns she could lose the car on her tail, and if her imagination