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lose them?” Whitney looked behind her, craning her neck to see if the Lincoln was still following. “Ever see
Bullitt?
Of course, we don’t have any of those nifty hills, but—”
    “Hey, watch it!”
    Whitney turned back around and, whipping the wheel, skimmed around a slower-moving sedan.
    “Look.” Doug gritted his teeth. “The whole purpose of this is to stay alive. You watch the road, I’ll watch the Lincoln.”
    “Don’t be so snotty.” Whitney careened around the next corner. “I know what I’m doing.”
    “Look where you’re going!” Doug grabbed the wheel, yanking it so that the fender missed a car parked at the curb. “Damn idiot woman.”
    Whitney lifted her chin. “If you’re going to be insulting, you’ll just have to get out.” Slowing down, she swung toward the curb.
    “For God’s sake don’t stop.”
    “I don’t tolerate insults. Now—”
    “Down!” Doug hauled her sideways and pulled her down to the seat just before the windshield exploded into spiderweb cracks.
    “My car!” She struggled to sit up, but only managed to twist her head to survey the damage. “Goddamn it, it didn’t have a scratch on it. I’ve only had it for two months.”
    “It’s going to have a lot more than a scratch if you don’t step on the gas and keep going.” From his crouched position, Doug twisted the wheel toward the street and peered cautiously over the dash. “Now!”
    Infuriated, Whitney stepped hard on the accelerator,moving blindly into the street while Doug held on to the wheel with one hand and held her down with the other.
    “I can’t drive this way.”
    “You can’t drive with a bullet in your head either.”
    “A bullet?” Her voice didn’t crack with fear, but vibrated with annoyance. “They’re shooting at us?”
    “They ain’t throwing rocks.” Tightening his grip, he spun the wheel so that the car bumped into the curb and around the next corner. Frustrated that he couldn’t take the controls himself, he took a cautious look behind. The Lincoln was still there, but they’d gained a few seconds. “Okay, sit up, but keep low. And for Chrissake keep moving.”
    “How’m I supposed to explain this to the insurance company?” Whitney poked up her head and tried to find a clear spot in the broken windshield. “They’re never going to believe someone was shooting at me and I’ve already got a filthy record. Do you know what my rates are?”
    “The way you drive, I can imagine.”
    “Well, I’ve had enough.” Setting her jaw, Whitney turned left.
    “This is a one-way street.” He looked around helplessly. “Didn’t you see the sign?”
    “I know it’s a one-way street,” she muttered and pressed harder on the gas. “It’s also the quickest way across town.”
    “Oh, Jesus.” Doug watched the headlights bearing down on them. Automatically he gripped the door handle and braced for the impact. If he was going to die, he thought fatalistically, he’d rather be shot, nice and clean through the heart, than be spread all over a street in Manhattan.
    Ignoring the screams of horns, Whitney jerked the car to the right, then to the left. Fools and small animals, Doug thought as they breezed between two oncomingcars. God looked out for fools and small animals. He could only be grateful he was with a fool.
    “They’re still coming.” Doug turned in the seat to watch the progress of the Lincoln. Somehow it was easier if he didn’t watch where he was going. They bounced from side to side as she maneuvered between cars, then with a force that threw him against the door, she turned another corner. Doug swore and grabbed for the wound on his arm. Pain began again with a low, insistent thud. “Stop trying to kill us, will you? They don’t need any help.”
    “Always complaining,” Whitney tossed back. “Let me tell you something, you’re not a real fun guy.”
    “I tend to get moody when somebody’s trying to kill me.”
    “Well, try to lighten up a bit,”