EXCERPT

The man with a dark-brown Stetson pulled low over his eyes flashed in Avery Price’s rearview mirror a split second before her back bumper knocked him down. Her Christian Lacroix wedge-sandals depressed on the brake pedal before her tires could roll over him and snap his bones like fragile twigs. Her cell phone, which had been pressed to her ear for ten minutes while her brother peppered her with questions, slipped out of her hand and clattered to the wood-grained middle console. Moisture seeped out of the corners of her tightly closed eyes and her hands wrapped themselves around the fine Italian leather-stitched steering wheel.

The few seconds it took for brain to register the presence of a human being walking behind her parked car had been too long for her to take action. Her Mercedes came to an abrupt stop after coming in contact with the man and prompted a surprised gasp from her. A few seconds stretched into an eternity while she inhaled deep breaths and kept her eyes closed. When she opened them, the dented, metal door of her motel room came into view along with the early morning sunshine.
Okay, you barely nudged him. Chances are he’s just sore and pissed off. Now would be a good time to get out and check on him.
Her internal lecture was pathetic at best and warranted no other action from her hands other than to pick up her discarded cell phone. Her trembling fingers wrapped around the device and brought it up to her ear.