The Edge

window to lean out. Rain flew in the open window, hard and heavy.

    I tried to keep my hands loose and relaxed on the steering wheel even though my heart pounded faster in anger each time I saw that webbed bullet hole out of the corner of my eye. I passed another car, a Land Rover.

    The driver gave me the finger and shouted a curse. I didn't blame him.

    There were just about forty yards of highway between us and the Honda. I saw a man leaning out the passenger window, looking back. He had a gun. "Laura, down!"

    She jerked back in and flattened herself against the seat as the man fired five or six rounds.

    "Mac," she said, "you've got a gun, don't you?"

    "Yes, but I've got to concentrate."

    "Give it to me. I know how to shoot."

    I didn't want to. It was the last thing I wanted to do, actually. I felt her hand pulling it out of my shoulder holster.

    "Laura," I said, "I'd rather you didn't. Please, be careful."

    "Just get us closer to that damned Honda."

    We closed to within fifteen yards of the Honda. This stretch of 101 was all curves and inclines and twisting hills. The rain had lightened up a bit, thank God. I'd be just on the verge of seeing the license plate when the Honda would disappear again around another curve.

    Laura hugged the passenger door, waiting. She seemed very calm, perhaps too calm. Something was strange here. "Laura, are you all right?"

    "I'm fine, Mac. Just keep up with them. Yeah, just a little bit closer." Suddenly, she reared up and halfway out the open window, rain curtaining her face. She shot off half the clip, fast.

    The Honda's back window exploded. A man came out of the passenger-side window, a gun trained on us. Before he could fire, Laura shot off another three rounds. I saw his gun fly out of his hand and skitter across the highway. She'd got him. Then the Honda disappeared around another turn.

    I gunned the Taurus. We came around the bend and skidded out to see the Honda disappear on the short straight stretch in front of us.

    "Damn, I wanted to get a back tire."

    When we last saw the Honda, it was weaving back and forth, the driver sawing the steering wheel to get it out of a skid. He straightened over a crest and the car shot forward. I gunned the Taurus. Just one more try. But the rain did us in. We hit a slick patch. The car spun in a full three-sixty. We ended up on the side of the road, about six feet from a ditch.

    "We didn't get the license plate," Laura said. "Well, damn."

    "After this I'm going to rent a Porsche. Bastards got away."

    And Laura laughed.

    We were still pumped with adrenaline. I started laughing too. It felt good. We were alive.

    It took petting Grubster and calming Nolan to get ourselves back down.

    "You okay?"

    She nodded as she continued scratching behind Grubster's ears. "That was a close one, Mac. My heart's pounding louder than a runaway train. My adrenaline level was so high there for a while, I bet I could have flown right out of this busted window. Oh, Jesus, Mac."

    She leaned over to me to put her arms around my back, her elbow hitting the steering wheel. Grubster was between us, purring loudly. I held her tightly, feeling her heartbeat against my chest, her warm breath against my neck, grateful that we'd survived this. It had been close. I took a quick survey of the Taurus. One busted window and a driver's-side window that was spider-webbed, with one small hole right in the middle. Too bad it hadn't stopped the bullet. Some sort of tangible evidence would have been nice.

    "What are we going to do?" She didn't move while she spoke, and I liked that.

    "I guess if I had my cell phone with me, I'd call Castanga, the President, and the Joint Chiefs of Staff."

    "I don't have mine either," she said against my neck. "It's on the dining room table at my condo."

    "Squawk!"

    "Oh dear, I forgot about Nolan and Grubster."

    She lifted Grubster off her lap and hefted him onto the backseat. She gave Nolan more sunflower seeds. I turned to see Grubster stretch his front legs against the front seat. I'd swear that cat was as tall as I was. Then he lightly jumped up front again and curled in Laura's lap.

    I raised my hand and picked up a strand of hair that had come free of the clip at the back of her neck. I rubbed the hair between my fingers.

    She grew very still.

    "I'm glad we're both still alive."

    "I wonder if you could be more pleased than Grubster here." The damned cat was purring so loudly she'd had to raise her voice. I sat