My Deadly Valentine by Valerie Hansen Page A

he’d be able to disable the car and stop her from starting it.
    Of course! Her would-be assailant’s actions had answered her question. With the engine running she’d at least be maneuverable, even if she wasn’t able to back out with the door closed.
    She turned the key. The car started. The shadowy figure raised both arms and jumped aside.
    Rachel wanted to cheer. She’d surprised him, all right. Now what? If he got in front of her again she could run into him, pin him between her bumper and the end wall, but that didn’t solve the problem of her current vulnerability.
    Did she dare try to back her car through the closed door? Was there enough room to get a little momentum going and actually break out? And if she tried and failed, would it just make matters worse?
    That notion almost made her laugh hysterically. “Worse? How could this get any worse?”
    In an instant she knew. The window on the passenger side shattered into a million tiny pieces and many of them rained onto the seat beside her. A black-clad arm reached through, grasping blindly.
    That was all the incentive Rachel needed. Flooring the accelerator, she backed straight into the partitioned door.
    To her horror, it splintered but held.
    The arm came at her again.
    She screamed. Ducked. Roared forward till her front bumper smacked the wall, then once again jammed the car into Reverse.
    The tires spun and whistled against the cement floor. This time, the door gave and she rocketed out onto the driveway.

    Jace saw the base panels of the door splinter and fall away. He skidded the patrol car to a stop across the drive to block it and was nearly hit broadside by the car that was racing toward him.
    He bailed out the driver’s door, drew his gun and crouched, ready for anything. When Rachel practically fell out of her car he ran to her side.
    “What happened?”
    She pointed. “He’s there. In the garage. He…”
    Jace didn’t wait for her full explanation. Pushing her down, he ordered, “Stay here,” and was gone in a flash. The headlights of her car illuminated the hole she’d smashed in the door and he caught a glimpse of movement.
    “Freeze! Police,” he shouted.
    The figure ducked back into the shadows. “I knew you wouldn’t make this easy,” he grumbled. “That suits me just fine.”
    Before proceeding, he turned back to check on Rachel. She was crouched just where he’d left her. “Go to my car and use the radio to call for backup,” Jace shouted. “And lock yourself in.”
    As soon as she waved and started to obey he returned his concentration to the damaged garage. Rachel had surprised him with her resourcefulness and willingness to destroy property in order to save herself. She was one of a kind, all right. The perfect woman for him.
    But before he told her so, he had a job to do. One he was going to thoroughly enjoy.
    Raising up and keeping his gun trained on the hole, he started to inch forward.

    Rachel yanked open the passenger side door of the patrol car and threw herself inside, realizing belatedly that she was sitting on a now collapsed pizza box.
    She wasn’t all that familiar with a police radio but since this was such a small department she figured it would be tuned to the right frequency and therefore pretty easy to use.
    She grabbed the microphone, pressed the side to trigger it, and shouted, “Harlan, Jace needs help. He’s at my house—Rachel Hollister’s, I mean. Hurry!”
    As soon as she released the transmit button she heard a scratchy reply. Help was on the way.
    Should she do as she’d been told or relay that message to Jace? Surely, he wouldn’t think of entering the garage with the stalker until he had backup.
    But apparently he had. When she looked for him, he was nowhere to be seen.

    The garage was dimly lit by the car’s headlights but not completely dark. Jace went as far as the jagged opening, then changed his mind. If he entered through Rachel’s kitchen, maybe he could catch the stalker by