LITMIR.BIZ

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here.” Crouching, he checked the man’s neck for a pulse. It was strong and steady.

      Harvey groaned, his eyelids fluttered. Nick spied a rusty wrench and saw a gleam of blood on the end.

      “Help him,” he told Dana.

      His own eyes were already scanning the garage. With his gun out again, he watched for movement inside the bay. Catching one near the office window, he whipped the gun down.

      “Police.” His eyes flicked to the bay door. “Move away from the tires.”

      A tense few seconds passed before a young man in a snow hat and heavy coat sidled out. His hands went up and his eyes widened with fright.

      Nick regarded him over his gun. “You’re a Sickerbie, aren’t you?”

      Dana’s head popped up. “Randy, what the hell are you doing here?”

      “Waiting for our truck.” The boy’s gaze remained glued to Nick’s hands. “I was in the bathroom when I heard a ruckus. I thought it was my dad come to bust my butt, so I stayed inside.”

      Nick lowered his weapon. “Did you see anything?”

      “Not much. A guy. He was wearing a cowboy hat, kinda like my dad’s. He was sort of big, but not real heavy. He wanted his truck.”

      Nick scoured the remaining shadows as he indicated the Ford on the hoist. “That truck up there?”

      “Yes, that truck up there,” a voice behind him growled. Harvey sat up, supported by Dana, and gave his head a rub. “The guy grabbed a wrench, whacked me when I told him it wasn’t ready. Friggin’ jerk.” He glared. “It isn’t like I have a hundred kingpins sitting around my shop waiting to be installed. Had to order one from—”

      “What was his name?” Nick interrupted.

      “Rush. And that’s what he wanted me to do. Rush, rush, rush. Well, I told him off fast enough. Said my piece, turned my back, and bam, he walloped me.”

      Nick motioned the frightened teenager aside. “Where did he go?”

      “How should I know?” Harvey grumbled. “I was out cold.”

      Randy used one of his raised hands to point. “He took off in a big silver Chevy.”

      Harvey snorted. With Dana’s help, he climbed to his feet. “Didn’t make the best choice. I siphoned off most of the fuel out of that truck this morning so’s I could flush out the tank. He won’t be going far.”

      Nick reholstered. “It won’t take much fuel to get to Smoking Gun Pass.”

      Dana gave Harvey’s arm a squeeze. “Will you be okay if we leave?”

      “Hell, I drove monster trucks when I was your age, Dana. I got an iron skull.” He scowled at Nick. “What’s this guy’s problem, anyway? He knock over the liquor store?”

      “I doubt it. Come on, Dana.” Nick started for the door. “You can run the plate on the Ford while we chase him down.”

      “Chase who down?” the mechanic demanded. “What’s going on?”

      Dana jotted the number of the F250’s license plate. “Trust me, Harv, you don’t want to know.”

      LUNATICS, SASHA DECIDED as her Land Rover skidded to a halt next to a large drift. Didn’t anyone around here know how to drive in snow?

      The vehicle she’d avoided by mere inches had its back end jammed against the rock face. Irritated, she shoved her door open and hopped out.

      “Don’t you dare be injured.” She secured her cap, reached inside for her gloves. “Except for snake bites and poison ivy, I’m not up on my first aid.”

      She heard the engine rev, saw the huge tires spin, and hesitated before closing the door. She couldn’t see his features, but the body language of the driver suggested that he was extremely upset. He was alternately thumping the steering wheel and grinding the truck’s gears.

      As she stood there, the back end jumped a little. The gears ground again. He whacked the wheel with his fists.

      “Maybe not,” Sasha murmured, and remained where she was.

      The Chevy’s engine roared; the spinning tires threw up fat streams of snow. The man inside reversed, then shoved the truck into Drive. The back end jumped much higher this time.

      In her peripheral vision, Sasha spied a vehicle creeping along the road toward the pass. She recognized Max’s rented SUV, and released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

      The man in the truck reversed and swung the steering wheel in violent bursts from left to right. Without warning, the box end popped up, the tires made contact with rock and suddenly, the vehicle sprang forward.

      Sasha didn’t move. If he decided to plow her Land Rover off the road, at least she’d be able to dive away.

      The rented SUV crept closer. She saw the sheriff in his 4x4, tight on Max’s bumper. Ahead of her, the Chevy truck whipped around in a spray of ice and rock. Sasha glimpsed the driver’s face as he glowered through the side window. Then he yanked the stick down and roared away.

      It wasn’t until he’d disappeared that she realized her heart was pounding. She had to work her fingers from the edge of the door.

      Max braked beside her, the sheriff behind him. Both men climbed out. Will Pyle cast Max a scathing look as he clomped past.

      “What happened, Sasha? Did you and that truck have a run-in?”

      She wrestled her gaze from the road. “Almost, but no. It was just really strange. He seemed so…angry.”

      “At you?”

      “More at himself and his truck, I think.” Without looking down, she said, “You’re ringing.”

      Pyle pulled out his phone, shot Max another chilly look. “Sheriff Pyle,” he snapped. Then frowned. “Dana, is that you? You know what it’s like up at the pass. Dana?” He regarded the screen, made a disgusted sound. “Pointless piece of crap. I lost the call. Let’s do it this way, Sasha.” He turned his back on Max. “I’ll follow you, and the engineer can bring up the rear.”

      It felt good to smile after such a freakish interlude. “Was there a problem?” she asked innocently.

      “The slicker spun out on a flat patch of road.” The sheriff scowled at his phone before returning it to his pocket. “Next thing I know, he’s kissing the side of the mountain. Almost buried the both of us in the snow and rock he unleashed.”

      Max, who’d remained silent to that point, faced him down. “The tires are bad, and the chains don’t fit properly. I didn’t get the vehicle I requested from the rental company. And don’t even get me started on your roads, Sheriff Pyle. If I’d designed them, they’d be passable summer and winter. By locals and slickers.” His expression became apologetic when he caught Sasha’s eye. “I tried to phone you after I spun out, but your line was busy.”

      “Worried mother,” Sasha said. “It wouldn’t have mattered, Max. The guy in the Chevy came out of nowhere.”

      “Must have got himself turned around. It’s easy to do up here.” Pyle examined the back of her Land Rover. “Doesn’t look like you hit anything. I’d say you’re good to go on, unless you’d rather go back.”

      She secured her cap. “I’m not a quitter, Sheriff. Come on, Max. You can lead.”

      “I liked my arrangement better,” the sheriff grumbled. “But anything to get up and down before the spring thaw.”

      His phone rang again. By the time he dipped his hand in his pocket, it had stopped.

      “There must be twenty dead spots between here and town.” He opened Sasha’s door wider. “In you go, missy. Take the

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