Drake Sisters 04 - Dangerous Tides

Porsche back onto the road. He was right behind her, nearly on top of her, the larger, heavier car gliding up like some avenging demon. He suddenly turned on his headlights, full blast, shooting them right into her eyes, blinding her.

    "You're on a straight away," she reminded herself. "Hold the car steady." Even as the words escaped she was able to see again, and she pressed harder on the gas.

    The Chapman house was very close, but it was set on a small knoll by the sea. The turn into the drive was sharp. She was coming up on it very fast. Too fast. She didn't dare miss it. She had no choice but to slow down and the larger car was right behind her. Gritting her teeth, Libby swung the wheel. The tires made a screaming sound and she felt the impact as the bigger car sideswiped the rear. The Porsche went into a spin, over the driveway and onto the lawn. Libby fought for control. Her Porsche hit Sam's truck, jolting her hard as it came to an abrupt stop.

    Libby looked wildly around, but the larger car was gone, already down the highway. She sat for a moment, shaking so bad she was afraid her legs wouldn't hold her. Tears streaked her face and blurred her vision. With trembling hands she tried the door. Thankfully it opened and she staggered out.

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Chapter Nineteen

    LIBBY forced herself to breathe. She wiped off her tears and looked back at the road a second time, scanning anxiously up and down the highway. She couldn't even hear the engine of a car. Her heart thundered in her ears. There was no noise at all and she should have been able to hear the engine.

    The absence of sound galvanized her into action. She ran to Tyson's front door, praying it was unlocked.
    Yanking it open, Libby stumbled inside, catching herself before she fell. The house was dark and seemed unoccupied. She slammed the door closed and snapped the lock in place before running to the kitchen.
    "Ty! Sam! Is anyone home? Ty! Where are you?" She was ashamed of the rising wail.

    The door to the basement was open and a single light shone from the laboratory.

    "Down here, baby," Ty called.

    Fresh tears flooded her eyes and she ran down the stairs, banging the door closed behind her. Libby flung herself into Tyson's arms, nearly knocking him over.

    Tyson held her trembling body close to him. "What is it?"

    "Someone tried to run me off the road." Her voice was muffled, her face buried against his chest. She clutched his shirt with both hands. "I got your call to come here and started right out and he pulled out of the bushes behind my car…"

    "Wait a minute, Libby. Slow down. I didn't call you. I thought you were going to meet me at the other Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    house."

    Libby stilled, turned her face up to his. "I got a message saying to meet you here. Something about Irene and Drew."

    "I'm calling the sheriff right now," Tyson said. "If Harry's behind this, he has to be stopped." He gestured with a bottle of colorless liquid he had just pulled from the rubble toward the phone. "I brought the phone down in case you called me."

    It was a simple thing, but even in the midst of her fears, Libby felt a burst of warmth for his consideration. He'd probably never thought to remember such a simple thing before. "What is this?" she asked, taking the bottle from him.

    Tyson reached for the phone. "I've been trying to gather up everything I might need for the other lab and salvage as much as I could. Everything's a mess. That was on the floor near the other chemicals. It's a wonder the entire house didn't blow up with the compounds I have down here." He hit the phone against the work table. "That's a bottle of methoxyethanol. I was wondering why I bought it." He looked up at her, his expression serious. "The phone's dead, Libby. Damn it. Let's get the hell out of here."

    Above them, they both became aware of crackling noises coming from the kitchen. They exchanged a long look of knowledge and dread.

    "Is there another way out?" Libby asked. "There has to be another way out."

    "Don't panic." Tyson's voice was grim. He went up the stairs, his tread deliberately light. He put his hand against the door and quickly removed it. "He's started a fire, Libby, and this time, I don't think any sprinkler's going to put it out. I can already hear the flames in the kitchen and the door's hot."

    "He's burning down the house on