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that’s witches. I’m a wildlife biologist for the Forestry Service.” Another grunt was her only answer as his fingers flew over the keyboard. “What’s so important about that computer? Who are you?”
    When he answered it was as if he was talking to himself more than to her. “That’s what I’d like to know. How did they know who we were?” 
    He looked up, peered out the window and shook his head at the snow and trees. “How far to civilization? I need the nearest phone.”
    “Gotta cash in those mutual funds, right? You need a hospital, not a phone. You’re lucky you weren’t killed back there.” 
    Headlights filled her rear view mirror once again. That bad feeling she had before now turned into good old fashioned, stomach-clenching fear. “There’s a car behind us, driving almost as crazy as you were. Are those the guys who shot you?”
    He rolled down his window, seemed oblivious to the snow blowing in as he adjusted his mirror. He looked over at her, and she met his eyes. They were very nice eyes—but worth risking her life over? 
    “Oh yeah, that’s them.” Regret colored his voice. He sounded sincere. “Sorry I got you into this mess, but those men will kill us if they catch us, so don’t slow down for anything, got it?”
    Like she hadn’t already figured that one out for herself.
     

 
     
     
    CHAPTER 3
     
     
    “If I’m gonna get myself killed helping you, think you can at least tell me why? Or who you are?” Vinnie asked, keeping her eyes on the road ahead.
    “I’m a federal agent, ATF. I’m one of the good guys.” He craned his head out the window to watch their pursuers. “They’re gaining. Look, I’ll tell you the whole story over tea and crumpets if you just hit the gas and get us the hell out of here.”
    Vinnie glanced down at the speedometer. They were already going fifty miles an hour around curves posted at twenty-five. She gave the gas pedal a nudge, praying that there was no black ice on the pavement as they rounded the next one going sixty. 
    It was the first of three tight curves that switchbacked around the mountain, and she needed both hands to keep control of the car. She accelerated whenever she felt the wheels begin to slip, avoided the brakes and used the clutch and gears to keep the Subaru on the road. Her hands flew back from the gearshift to the wheel, both feet working in tandem, and she felt like she was channeling Mario Andretti.
    It worked until the last curve, posted at twenty miles an hour, which she came out of on two wheels, holding her breath and leaning over in an unconscious effort to flip the car the right way back onto all its wheels.
    They came down with a jolt that jarred the breath from her. Vinnie cut her eyes over to her passenger who was clenching the dashboard with a white-knuckled grip.
    “Fast enough for you?” she asked with a grin. His window was still open, and the fresh air mixed with adrenalin to give her a pleasant head rush.
    Her exhilaration was dashed almost immediately as the SUV caught up to them on the straightaway, ramming into their rear bumper. 
    The impact snapped Vinnie’s jaws together. She kept control of the car and pressed the accelerator to the floor, shifting down.
    The SUV pulled up beside them, swerving into Vinnie’s side of the car, trying to force her off the road. She hunched forward over the steering wheel, refusing to make it easy for them. 
    “Hang on!” she shouted as a sickening crunch echoed through the car. She almost lost it, wheels spinning on the gravel between her and the edge of the mountain, then pulled ahead once more. Heedless of any oncoming traffic, she used both lanes as she maneuvered her way down the mountainside.
    “Can’t you shoot them or something?” she asked her passenger, Mr. Federal Agent. 
    What good was he, anyway? She was doing all the work, it was her car getting the crap beat out of it, and all he did was sit there bleeding over everything. 
    Then she saw