Ed Haynes sat braced in the passenger seat of the patrol car and tried to see beyond the headlights. "I'm going to have to pull over until it lets up," the detective said, steering the car onto the shoulder.
"How much farther is it?" Haynes switched on the interior light and looked at the road map.
"About twenty-five miles, I reckon. To tell you the truth, I'm amazed we've gotten this far."
"I've never seen anything like this in my life," the detective said. "There must be six inches of water on the road; it's like driving down a river."
Haynes turned on the radio and searched for a Jacksonville station. "Here's the latest on Hurricane Lago," a voice said. "The storm made a sudden forty-five-degree turn about four hours ago, and made a landfall a hundred miles south and hours earlier than had been expected. The eye is expected to hit the coast north of Jacksonville around dawn, and the Weather Service tells us that the worst should be over by midmorning."
"Well, that's something, I guess," the detective said.
"I'm glad we drove," Haynes said. "At least we'll be able to get onto the island at the earliest possible moment. If this would just let up, we could make the sheriff's office in half an hour."
"It's not letting up, yet," the detective said. "If it's any consolation, Ramsey's got to be pinned down just like everybody else."
"Christ, I hope so," Haynes replied, watching the windshield wipers swim over the glass.