Last Dance, Last Chance

so curious about the news. This was why he had said, “You know about me, don’t you?”
    At the time, she truthfully had had no idea what he was talking about. But now Pat thought about what she had heard on the radio during the noon news. There had been a brief mention of a woman who had been found murdered in Kent, but it meant nothing to Pat. Not then. Now it did. She had a terrible feeling that Denny had murdered Gladys. Pat didn’t know whether Gladys was his girlfriend or his wife or who. She had been scared before, but now she realized that she was being held captive by a man who was probably a killer. She tried to concentrate on the conversation to get some clue about Gladys.
    Denny kept telling his sister-in-law that he didn’t know anything about what happened to Gladys.
    Denny Tuohmy’s brother didn’t catch on that Pat Jacque was an unwilling hostage. He refused once more to drive his brother anywhere, saying, “You’ve got a car and a woman; drive yourself.”
    By this time, Pat’s gas gauge was on empty, and she didn’t have any money with her. If they left in her car, it was going to stall on some back-country road. She mentioned that, hoping Denny’s brother would change his mind. Instead, he wrote out a check for $5.00 and told them the location of a gas station where they could cash it.
    Numbly, Pat watched Denny tuck the check in his pocket and stand up. He signaled to her to lead the way to the door. She followed him, sure that she had lost all hope of rescue.
    Once again, Pat Jacque was alone with him, hurtling over rural roads in the pitch-black night, the .303 rifle aimed at her head. Following his directions, she eventually turned onto the Kent-Kangley Road.
    Feeling even more desperate, she happened to glance up at her rearview mirror and saw the headlights of a car moving up right behind them. She waited for it to pass, thinking she might be able to flash her lights or give some signal, but it stayed with them.
    Then Denny saw the lights in the mirror, and he turned around to watch the car. As he did, it dropped back. He told Pat to drive very, very carefully. But if she noticed a car with a blue light, or heard a siren, she was to “step on it.”
    A few moments later, she did hear the wail of a siren and saw a flashing blue light in the rearview mirror.
    “Turn right and speed up,” Denny ordered in a tight voice.
    She did as he said, but suddenly there were cars with flashing lights all around them. Denny poked the gun at her back and told her to floor the accelerator.
    She was going so much faster that she was afraid to look at the dashboard and check her speed. She felt as if she would lose control of her car at any time, and they would all be killed.
    “I just can’t go any further,” Pat cried.
    She was completely terrified, and her arms and feet felt leaden, but he screamed at her to keep driving. She expected Denny to start shooting at the patrol cars, and she knew that she was in the way. He would probably blow her head off when he fired at the cars ahead and beside them.
    Expertly, the sheriff’s officers slowed their speed, forcing Pat to slow hers. She had no place to go but to the shoulder of the road, and there was a deep ditch just beside it.
    Her car was forced off the road, and she stomped on the brake frantically, coming to a stop just inches from a ditch.
    Pat would remember this moment for the rest of her life. “An officer waved at me to get out, but I was afraid to move,” she said. “Then other officers came around on the right and opened the door and pulled Denny out. Someone opened my door and I got out.”
    She could barely stand, but she was grateful to simply be alive. She began to believe that she would see her family again—that there would be a Christmas.
    “Are my children all right?” she begged one of the county patrolmen.
    He smiled and said, “They’re fine. Your husband is with them.”
    Roy Jacque had come home shortly before eight. “I came in the back door, and there were three little kids all lined up, with great big eyes and trying hard not to cry. They said, ‘Mommy went away with a man with a gun.’ I knew Pat would never have left the children alone if she had a choice, or left without a note. I called the King County sheriff.”
    Jacque had spent truly desperate hours waiting for some word of his wife, imagining what might be happening to her and trying not to let his thoughts go that way.
    Alerted first by Roy