It was the shrieking of the passengers that finally galvanized her into movement. She slammed the Brat’s door open and sprinted for the bus, certain from all the noise that there were people sprawled in various states of broken all over the interior.

But miraculously, no one was hurt.

The driver was in a complete state of shock, as well he might be, but Jennie and a couple of the passengers who had their wits about them began helping the others out of the bus. Within a few moments, more cars appeared on both sides of the road, some of whose drivers had seen the plume of flame and smoke from the Lincoln. One driver had a cellular phone, and two had C.B. radios; all three called police and ambulances.

Jennie stayed there anyway, as the only witness to the entire “accident.” She told the police, when they finally arrived, that the driver of the Lincoln had been trying to pass her on the blind curve, and that the bus driver had pulled off the best “save” she had ever seen in her life.

Since no one in the Lincoln survived to dispute her version of the story, and the driver honestly did not remember much besides seeing the Lincoln on the wrong side of the road and swerving to avoid it, the cops were perfectly willing to believe her.

It was only when she finally pulled her Brat away from the scene that she saw what was written on the side of the bus.

Eagle Tours.

David gritted his teeth and went on with his part of the “plan,” even though he wanted to go chasing right after the three guys in the Lincoln as it sped off after Jennie’s Brat. This whole thing depended on everyone doing his part, doing it right, and doing it without interfering with the rest of the plan. He wouldn’t help either her or Toni Calligan by rushing off and doing something stupid.

Toni was not even aware of what else was going on. But the dual threat of her soon-to-be-ex husband and the mi-ah-luschka was probably more than enough for her. She was white as a sheet under her makeup and healing bruises, and the two kids, poor little mites, were clearly just as terrified when David came to the door. He wondered what had been going on in that house in the past forty-eight hours—

—then decided that maybe he really didn’t want to know, after all. It would only make him madder. And he might lose his temper, go down to Calligan’s construction site, and beat the bastard’s face in. He was only heartbeats from doing that as it was; only his promise to Jennie had kept him from dashing out to kill the man when he realized Calligan had sent those goons to drown her.