his only option.
He pushed open the truck door, walked to her car and tapped on her window.
She jammed her finger down on the button and glared up at him when the window was fully open. “What?”
Adam smiled what he hoped was his most charming smile. “Any chance you could give me a ride?”
She flung her door wide, narrowly missing hitting him in the leg.
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You don’t have to get upset. I won’t be any trouble. And I can let myself in.” He headed toward the passenger side until the sound of Shiloh snickering stopped him.
“What?”
She reached for the rear door of the patrol car, opened it and motioned to the backseat. “You can ride here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
She only raised her eyebrows. “Did you want a ride or not?”
Adam climbed in, thankful that he’d left his dog with a friend in Savannah and made plans to pick him up and bring him to town along with the rest of his belongings in the next day or two. He couldn’t imagine how well it would have gone over if he’d had to ask for a ride for both him and the dog, especially since he seemed to rank somewhere near the bottom of Shiloh’s “favorite person” list.
He tried not to think about where he was sitting as he took in the scenery, observing the town through the windows.
It looked like every other small town he’d been in along Georgia’s coast, but it appeared to be a nice place to live. Anticipation coursed through his veins—hopefully, it would be a good place for his first solo pastoring job. His dad’s connections had found the job for him, and Adam wanted to do his best work here—make sure he didn’t let God, or his dad, down. He wasn’t sure which possibility scared him more.
He looked at Shiloh and noticed she was checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. The tense set of her jaw made it clear that something was wrong. Something more than having her ex-fiancé in the backseat of her cruiser.
Adam looked over his shoulder. An older-model gray sedan was following them.
He glanced at Shiloh, still staring in the rearview, so he turned his head again. The car behind them inched closer.
Shiloh sped up.
So did the other car.
Adam turned to the front again, watching Shiloh’s face through the clear barrier. Her jaw was set, but there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes.
“Shiloh, what’s going on?”
She didn’t answer.
He looked up the road ahead of them. If they made it across that bridge, then they’d be in town.
“Do you think they’ll back off once we’re in town and there are people around?”
“I don’t know.” The dread he heard in her tone settled deep in his own gut.
A car in the approaching lane sped toward them. Adam tensed. Not likely that was a coincidence.
The bridge loomed closer. They were twenty, maybe thirty, yards away when the car coming at them swerved deliberately into their lane.
Understanding slammed into Adam, made him work to catch his breath.
They were trying to force them into a collision. Were they after Shiloh? And why?
He didn’t have time to ask more questions or to figure out anything else. They’d reached critical mass. Adam braced himself for impact, thankful that he was spiritually ready to die—even if he’d have rather put it off for a while—and closed his eyes. Visions of fiery car crashes he’d seen during his chaplain training haunted him. He didn’t want that to be his final thought.
So he opened his eyes, took one more look at Shiloh.
Instead of looking resigned, she appeared ready for a fight. Adam’s eyes widened as he realized what she was doing.
Shiloh yanked the wheel hard right, and the car clipped the guardrail with their left front side as she avoided the bridge and careened straight toward the last place Adam would have thought would be a good idea.
Straight into Hamilton Creek.
Shiloh fought the urge to close her eyes and instead fixated on steering the car straight into the creek.
The car slammed into the water, arresting their speed to something approaching slow motion. Water sloshed and caught the vehicle, bringing them to a stop in the middle of the creek.
She released her breath as she looked out the window. Would have uttered a prayer of thanks if she had thought God was paying attention.
Shiloh pushed at the door, but it wouldn’t budge. With about three feet of standing water, the pressure was too great.
Water trickled in through the cracks in the doors. Shiloh’s chest tightened, and she fought to breathe even though there was still plenty of fresh air in the car.
No. She couldn’t let fear overtake her and she refused to sit here while the cruiser filled with water. She had to use her head, use her training and stay focused on the situation. She looked around for something to use to break the window, eyes catching immediately on her black baton on the passenger-side floorboard. She reached for it, tensing as she remembered the snake that had been there not two hours before.
Shiloh tightened her grip on the stick and smashed it through the window.
She pulled her body through the opening, careful not to catch herself on any of the remaining jagged glass, and stood in the midthigh water as movement in the back of the car caught her eye.
Adam.
For a minute, in her panic, she’d forgotten he was there.
Shiloh glanced down at the door handle but knew trying to pull it open would be futile. She couldn’t break the glass for him with her baton without shattering it all over him and risking an injury. She might not like him, but she’d never hurt him on purpose.
“Move!” he yelled through the window and motioned with his hand for her to back away.
She stepped aside and watched as he brought his arm back and smashed something—a pocketknife, maybe—through the window. It took a few more seconds for him to clear enough glass to get through, then he climbed out as she had and joined her in the murky water.
Nothing could have kept the relief she felt from showing on her face. Adam must have seen it, because he grinned.
“See, I knew you still cared. At least a little,” he teased.
He was lucky she didn’t want the hassle of an internal-affairs investigation—because she wanted nothing more than to slap that grin off his face.
“You don’t get how serious this is, do you?” Shiloh muttered between clenched teeth. She scanned the marshy area around the creek again, unable to suppress a shiver as she did so. Next her gaze landed at the creek’s banks, which would make ideal cover for a sniper. Nothing—that she saw.
But her gut instinct, which had served her well before, said someone was out here. Watching.
“I get it.” Adam’s voice had sobered. “I mean, I don’t. It makes no sense. But, yeah, I know that someone tried...” His voice trailed off.
“Tried to kill us,” she finished for him, then swallowed hard and focused her attention on the bridge. No cars. Her pursuer and his accomplice were long gone, and she had no leads—not a license-plate number and no worthwhile description, since almost every car involved in a crime was a “dark midsize sedan.”
Frustration