She drove out of the parking lot and turned left at the light.

PHILLIP CALLED HER WHEN SHE WAS getting on the freeway. She pressed Connect on her cell phone earpiece for hands-free operation. "Everything all right? I don't want to be a worrywart but I knew you got off duty a couple hours ago. If you're out having a drink with Scott and Jana, just tell me to buzz off."

Lord, she was glad to hear his voice. From the moment he had walked toward her at her mother's funeral, she had felt this warm sense of belonging whenever she was around him. "No, it was just a rough night. I had a few problems. I'll tell you about it when I get home. I'm on my way. What are you doing awake anyway? It's after two in the morning."

"I was only dozing. The football game didn't end until midnight. We won in the last four seconds. I was too wired to relax."

"Hoorah Falcons."

"Damn right." He paused. "What kind of problems?"

"A fourteen-year-old boy died on the table. I couldn't save him."

"Shit."

"Yeah. How about having a cup of hot chocolate with me and you can tell me about the game?"

"Sounds good. I'll have it ready. How close are you?"

"I'm on the freeway. Twenty minutes." She frowned as blinding lights glared in her rearview mirror. "Cripes, I've got a tailgater. It's a truck, I think. He must be drunk. At this time of night you'd think he'd realize that he's got plenty of room to pass me." The lights were suddenly gone. "Okay, he's passing in the left lane now. Good riddance. I hope he gets a tick—What the hell!"

The truck had slammed into the side of her 4Runner! She fought the wheel as she was pushed toward the side of the highway.

"What's happening, Megan?" Phillip's worried voice in her ear. No time to answer him. The truck slammed her again.

Crazy bastard. He'd rammed her against the low bridge over the river. One more hit like that and her SUV might roll over and go into the water.

She barely managed to straighten before the truck slammed into her from behind, sending her wheeling wildly in a circle.

Straighten out. Get off the bridge. She had a better chance going down the embankment.

She straightened back in her lane and pressed the accelerator.

"Megan!" Phillip's voice.

The truck was next to her again.

Get off the bridge.

She stomped on the accelerator and momentarily left the truck behind her. Twenty yards and she'd be across the water. The truck was gaining on her.

He hit her rear door as she reached the end of the bridge.

The 4Runner went off the highway and began bouncing down the embankment.

She had to stop it before she reached the river.

She stomped on the brakes and skittered sideways, slid fifteen yards before she was stopped by a pine tree.

Her air bag went off, pinning her to the seat. Helpless.

She could see the truck stopped on the road above her and a silhouette moving toward the embankment. He was tall, thin, wearing jeans and a cowboy hat.

Her OnStar program was telling her that her air bags had gone off and that they'd notified 911. But the man on the bank was already starting down the ridge. Then she heard the sirens. Hurry. Dammit, hurry.

The man hesitated and then turned and started climbing back up the embankment. A moment later he was in his truck and driving away.

She felt limp with relief. Thank God.

PHILLIP ARRIVED AT THE SCENE twenty minutes later. By that time Megan had been helped out of the wrecked SUV and was sitting on the riverbank with a blanket wrapped around her.

He handed her a thermal cup. "Hot coffee. I figured you could use the caffeine."

She nodded and took a sip. "Actually, I could use a stiff drink."

"I'd never offer you alcohol at the scene of an accident. You can never tell when the police might try to breathalyze you." He sat down beside her and tucked the blanket closer around her. "Okay, Megan?"

"No, I'm mad as hell." She grimaced. "I couldn't even get the license number. I think it was a blue Ford pickup but I'm not sure. The only thing I'm certain about is that he's nutty as a fruitcake and should be taken off the road. He scared me, dammit. When I was sitting pinned in that SUV and he was coming down the embankment, I felt like I was being stalked by Freddy from Elm Street." She shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe he'd regained his senses and was coming down to help me. But I was glad when he turned and took off in his truck."

"Me too." Phillip glanced at the policemen measuring and marking the tire tracks. "Do they want you to check in at a hospital?"

"Yes, but I'm not going to do it. There's nothing wrong with me but a sore chest and ribs from the air bag. I want to go home." She shook her head wearily. "It's been a hell of a night."

He nodded and rose to his feet. "Let me see what I can do. Drink your coffee and leave it to me." He moved toward the sergeant giving orders on the embankment.

Megan felt a surge of affection as she watched him. It was always safe to leave anything and everything to Phillip. He didn't give the impression of brilliance and ultraefficiency, but she had never run across a situation that he couldn't handle. Even now, dwarfed by those husky policemen, he quietly dominated the scene. In his early sixties, thin, small-boned, with a high forehead and large blue eyes, he was calm and reassuring. People instinctively responded to that gentle demeanor as she did. Her mother had never even told her she had an uncle, perhaps because he was only Sarah's half brother and he had moved away when her mother was only a teenager. But from the time Phillip had come to Myrtle Beach to assume guardianship after her mother had died of a heart attack, Megan had known that nothing bad could ever happen to her as long as she had Phillip Blair beside her.

And Phillip's gentle charisma was working its magic once again. She saw the police sergeant hesitate and then shrug and turn away.

"Thank you, Sergeant." Phillip winked at her as he started back. "The kind officer is willing to believe that the physician can heal herself. Now, you mustn't let me down by having a sudden relapse." He helped her to her feet. "He asked you to drop in at the precinct to fill out the reports tomorrow or the next day. He's hoping you'll remember something more about the hit-and-run."

"So do I." She leaned on Phillip as she climbed the hill toward his car. Lord, she was tired. She could barely put one foot in front of another. "But I don't think it's going to happen."

"A shower and bed," Phillip said. "I'll take care of everything. Trust me."

Yes, she could trust Phillip. She was trying desperately not to be a burden to him these days. She wasn't that bereaved teenage kid any longer. But tonight maybe it would be okay to accept that comfort and strength that was always there for her.

CHAPTER TWO

"I THOUGHT YOU GOULD USE A LITTLE of that hot chocolate we talked about to relax you." Phillip stood in her bedroom doorway with a steaming mug in his hand. "Since I dosed you with enough caffeine at that river to keep an elephant awake."

"I doubt if it will keep me awake." She smiled as he walked toward her bed and dropped down in the easy chair beside it. "I feel drained."

"Good." He handed her the chocolate. "You're usually so charged after a bad night that being empty is practically therapy."

"Therapy?" She made a face. "Don't use that word. I have enough trouble with people at the hospital thinking I'm a little off-kilter." She wearily shook her head. "Maybe they're right. I don't get it. I don't see why they don't feel what I'm feeling. So much pain... How can they just cruise the surface? Even Scott doesn't seem to get close enough to them and he's a good man, Phillip."