“All right. I ate with Howard but we didn’t have dessert. I could have decaf coffee and pie. How about you?”

“Haven’t decided.” Bobby Joe got the car up to highway speed well before the merge, pressing his foot down on the accelerator so hard that his mother lurched forward in her seat before the seat belt caught and held her.

“Was that necessary?” Alma glanced worriedly over at her son. The glaring illumination of the highway made his eyes glitter. Unless it wasn’t the lights doing that. “Are you on something?”

“Nope.”

“You drive like the devil’s after you.”

“I’m going as fast as everyone else,” he defended himself.

“But—” A sixteen-wheeler rumbled by on the left, blasting a warning that made Alma jump. “Oh, sweet Jesus.”

“What?”

“As if you didn’t know. That damn horn scared me half to death.”

“At least it wasn’t my driving.”

“If you get pulled over, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said acidly. “Can we go a different way? Is there an access road or something?”

“Don’t think so.” Bobby Joe almost looked like he was enjoying himself.

A customized pickup appeared in the passenger-side mirror, catching up with them fast on huge, jacked-up tires, its front grille gleaming like monster teeth. “Bobby Joe! Someone’s tryin’ to pass on the right!”

He swerved into the left lane seconds before the pickup thundered past, belching exhaust from double mufflers.

“I hate those fancy trucks, driving like they own the road! But everybody’s driving crazy tonight,” Alma wailed. “What in hell is going on?”

“It’s Friday and it’s the start of a four-day weekend,” her son pointed out. “Everyone’s getting out of town. Calm down.” He turned to smile at her, his eyes not on the road, not seeing the beginning of a sharp curve ahead.

But Alma did. A little too late. “Look out!”

Metal screamed and tore open as the car slid into the guardrail and bounced off, spinning around, glass flying everywhere. Sparks shot out in jagged plumes, scorching the asphalt, melting it as the car slowed and crashed into the divider again, rocking on shredded tires. Other vehicles skidded to a stop just inches from the horrific crash. Black smoke rose and drifted, invisible against the night.

Parr left his car at the far side of the graveled area by the bridge, ignoring the other vehicles parked a little distance away. The occupants hadn’t come out here to enjoy the soft air of early summer or catch the scent of honeysuckle on the breeze wafting over the country river. Back in the day, he’d done the same, romancing one girl after another behind the rolled-up windows of his first car, taking full advantage of the only privacy to be found in a small town.

Tonight all he wanted was to be alone.