He waited, just as she’d known he would, for her to start her car and drive down the road before he turned around and headed back to the ranch.

She didn’t let herself think about the copy of the murder story Jolene Stevens had given her until his pickup’s taillights disappeared from her rearview mirror. Shuddering, she glanced over at the story stuffed in her shoulder bag.

Was it just fiction? Or was Jolene Stevens right? Could it be a confession? But why write it for the teacher of the one-room schoolhouse?

And where, if anywhere, did that leave Dulcie?

The headlights came out of nowhere. One minute there was no one behind her. The next a pickup was tailgating her, its bright lights blinding.

Dulcie slowed a little, pulling to the side to let the impatient driver pass.

The pickup started past her, then swerved into her rental. The loud crunch of metal filled the car as she was thrown against the door. Her car veered to the right. She fought to keep it on the road as it swerved wildly.

At first she thought the truck had hit her accidentally until the driver swerved into her again, jarring her vehicle in a roar of engine and screaming metal.

Ahead the road narrowed, dropping off steeply on both sides. The truck swerved away from her after the impact, but she could see it heading for her again.

She sped up, knowing her only chance was to outrun the driver.

The pickup fell in behind her, the lights filling the cab as it stayed with her. The road dipped and rose. The car caught air over a rise and came down hard.

Behind her, the truck came off the top of the rise airborne. It was going so fast that for a breathtaking instant, she thought it would land on her.

The pickup came down in a cloud of dust directly behind her. She felt it slam into the back of her car, shooting her forward before the truck started to fishtail in some loose gravel on the edge of the recently graded road.

In her side mirror she saw the truck leave the road, barreling down into the barrow pit and back up the other side. It hurtled through a barbed-wire fence before coming to rest in a mushroom cloud of dust in the middle of a wheat field.

Dulcie sped up, racing toward town. In her rearview mirror she saw the truck’s headlights sweep around as the driver headed back toward the road.

Fear had her gripping the wheel and continuing to glance at the rearview mirror. She was driving as fast as she could without going off the road herself, afraid any moment the pickup’s headlights would appear again over a rise.