Linda made her way toward the restroom, catching the waitress on the way. “On my rum and Coke, could you make that a diet Coke and hold the rum… but please, put it in the same kind of glass as his. I need to drive.”

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Colt watched the helicopter disappear for a moment behind the building, then smacked Callie on the butt and followed her out to the truck. They climbed up into the cab, closing the door barely before the helicopter came back in view. Steve climbed in the other side a moment later and fired up the big rig.

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Callie looked over at her boyfriend. She watched him concentrate on the road. Every bump and uneven spot put the car on edge. He and his father had modified the car to be able to run fast, and it had been on the track, but in the end, it was never designed to go flat out for miles and miles. One wrong move could kill them.

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Melody Jenkins kept up the watch, then noticed that Zorro and Morticia disappeared for a little while from the living room. She thought she saw movement in one of the upstairs bedrooms but couldn’t be sure. Even if there was movement, that didn’t mean it was Paul. She was pretty sure that was his bedroom, though. She wanted to call in a capture team, but if she was wrong, it would be a huge problem.

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Paul sat in his darkened car. He was holding a rifle scope in his hand. From his vantage point, all he could see above the seawall was Jack’s head. If he thought he could make the shot, he would get the rifle from the trunk and take it. But he knew better. He’d been practicing, but he wouldn’t be able to make a head shot at this distance, especially not without even a warm-up shot, or some way to tell how close the shot was and how to adjust.

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Nick glanced around, looking for the big German kid. Not seeing him, he asked, “Things still going well with you guys, I guess?”

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