The Big Cat Nap

shouldn’t.”
    “Don’t,”
Pewter howled.
“You do enough crazy stuff.”
    “What the hell?” Harry exclaimed. Coming around the bleachers in front of her at a fast clip was a charcoal Porsche 911. She checked her rearview: Behind her was a yellow Camaro. Harry couldn’t see the drivers, but she knew if she didn’t do something she’d be trapped. She put her foot on the brake, gunned the motor, took the brake off, and shot down the track so fast that the Porsche braked hard.
    “Something’s wrong,”
Mrs. Murphy cried.
    Tucker, trying to balance herself, looked through the two front seats.
“They’re trying to trap her!”
    Pewter, crouching on the footwell behind the seat, shouted,
“Make her stop.”
    Mrs. Murphy summed up the situation.
“If she stops, we’re toast.”
    The jet acceleration gave Harry confidence. At the end of the quarter mile, she turned sharply, skidding out, for the Porsche hung hot on her tail. The Camaro driver seemed to hesitate. Perhaps he had the brains to know if he tried to block her she’d plow right through him, maybe killing them both.
    Harry had guts: She called his bluff. The Camaro accelerated out of her way, and she felt the shock waves as she blew by that beautiful yellow tail. As she rocked by the Camaro, she saw Latigo Bly behind the wheel.
    Harry now headed for the state road, praying that someone would see them and call the police. No way could she reach her cellphone.
    She was running for her life, very glad the seat belts were good.
    She hooked left, skidding out again. This time the Camaro disappeared, only to reappear emerging from the back way into Central Virginia Hot Rod Track.
    Fearlessly, Harry aimed straight for him again. Latigo backed up in a hurry, stones flying from under the wheels.
    As they were not yet near housing or commercial buildings, her two pursuers had two miles to bring her down. Given the quality of their cars and the skill with which they handled them, they just might succeed.
    Sweat poured down her forehead, between her breasts. Senses razor-sharp, she’d never felt more alive than at this moment.
    She heard the beautiful yowl of the 911 coming up on her right, on the lip side of the road, which was wide enough to take the car. She recognized Victor Gatzembizi in the gorgeous 911. On her left, the Camaro hurtled down a paved two-lane road. Both cars closed in. She was between them now. She couldn’t take her eyes off the road for an instant.
    The Porsche bumped her as the Camaro swerved close to her. The smaller car shuddered but took it. The pursuers drove about a foot away, then came toward her again to slam the hell out of the WRXSTI. Harry hit those brakes, which bit into the pavement. The screech of the wheels had to have been heard in Richmond. So quickly did the pocket rocket stop that the Porsche and Camaro crashed into each other. The big Chevy shouldered the Porsche right off the road at such a high speed that the Porsche plowed into a field, but it didn’t turn over. The Camaro, right fender now bent into the right wheel, made a screaming sound as the tire blew. The car spun around, stopping like a wounded animal. Latigo leaned out the open driver’s window with a gun and fired a shot Harry’s way. He missed, the bullet skidding over the Subaru hood.
    Harry took off, speeding toward Waynesboro. Eventually she slowed, grabbed her phone, dialed 911. After giving the location of the two wrecks, she pulled into the Rite Aid parking lot to calm down.
    “That was close.”
She reached over, putting Mrs. Murphy in her lap and turning to pet Tucker.
    “I could have been killed,”
Pewter cried.
    “Pewter, come on up here. Come on.”
    Wobbly-legged, the gray cat, belly low, slunk into Harry’s lap. She’d peed on herself, but neither Harry nor anyone else said a word. They’d near done it themselves. Then Harry called Cooper.
    “Coop, I’m in Augusta County—Waynesboro, at the Rite Aid. Victor Gatzembizi and Latigo Bly tried to kill me. I’m safe, I think. Will you come get me?”
    “Hang on.” Harry heard Coop hit the siren and start roaring through Albemarle toward Augusta County.
    By the time Cooper reached Harry, the animals were cleaned up. Harry had gone into Rite Aid to get bottled water for everyone and had bought a little plastic bowl and some paper towels for cleanup. Behind the counter Belinda—a pug owner and animal lover herself—pretended not to notice the cat-pee smell on Harry.
    It wasn’t