Rose tore down the turnpike and reached the Reesburgh exit in record time, but she still had the sinking sensation that it wouldn’t be good enough. She squinted at the dashboard clock, its red digits aglow. 9:17.
She had failed. She’d be a full fifteen minutes behind Eileen. The realization brought tears to her eyes. There couldn’t be one more death, not one. Not while she drew breath.
She blinked the wetness away and kept her foot on the gas, zipping down the fast lane. She flashed her high beams at a white VW to move out of her way, but all the cars were braking, their red taillights on at a curve in the road. She fed more gas, hoping the bottleneck would break up or she could pass on the right.
She zoomed around the curve, but the white VW was slowing even more, below the speed limit. The state cops had pulled somebody over on the right shoulder, and a police cruiser sat idling behind a blue van, its bar lights flashing red, white, and blue. Traffic slowed as it passed the scene, on temporary good behavior or gawking. The VW slowed to a crawl.
“Come on!” Rose slammed her palm on the wheel. She glanced over at the shoulder, then looked again. The driver of the stopped van looked like Eileen.
Rose switched into the slow lane, double-checking. A woman driver. Short blond hair. It was Eileen, and she was driving the same car she’d showed up in at the hospital, that awful night.
Well, are you happy now?
Rose passed Eileen and the state police car, her thoughts racing. What if the cop hadn’t stopped Eileen for speeding? What if they’d found out that Eileen was on her way to the Harvest Conference? Would they alert someone at the plant? Homestead security? Mojo, too?
Rose’s gut churned as the traffic picked up speed. She wasn’t following Eileen anymore, she was leading her, and it put her in a better position. She steered off the exit and down the ramp, then took a left onto Allen Road, keeping an eye on the rearview for Eileen’s blue van.
She sped up. She had to get to Homestead before Eileen, and now she had a fighting chance. There was no traffic, and Reesburgh was dark and empty, the town gone to sleep. She sped past the CVS, the line of box stores, and finally the elementary school, where it had all begun.
And now, finally, it would end.
Tonight.