open. Zach told me about the Pinewood Springs campaign.”
“I told him I wanted to think about it. I’m so swamped right now. Besides, Zach doesn’t paint a flattering picture of his childhood buddy.”
Jeremy laughed. “No, he doesn’t. Don’t feel any pressure about it. If you don’t think you can do the job, it’s no big deal. Either Zach or I will step in.”
A slight prick of irritation wound its way around her nerves. “I know I can do the job, but it’s just a matter of timing.”
He nodded, then smiled at her. “Don’t work too late. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She stared into the hall until she heard the door slam shut, then looked away. Through the large window she watched the lights twinkling in Civic Park as well as the hotels and apartment buildings lining Broadway Street. To the left, the darting quicksilver of car lights was mesmerizing. Ashley shifted her eyes back to the computer screen and noticed that the time was already six thirty; she’d been at work for more than thirteen hours.
“No wonder my neck’s so stiff,” she muttered while moving her head from side to side. A low stomach rumble reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. Ashley straightened out her desk, switched off the computer, and stood up. The familiar squeak of the cleaning cart drifted down the hall. She gripped the handle of her briefcase and walked out of her office.
“Hi,” she said as she passed by the cleaning crew. The man and woman smiled and nodded at her, then the man pressed his foot down and the vacuum roared to life.
Ashley counted the seconds as she waited for the elevator that would take her to the parking garage. She was just about ready to take the stairs when the brass door opened. She stepped inside and pressed the button for the sixth floor.
The elevator jerked before stopping, then the doors slid open and Ashley ambled out. Stepping into the parking garage was like entering a deep freeze. She buttoned the top of her coat and hurried toward her black Buick Regal, but as she crossed the lot, she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her.
“You’re being paranoid,” she whispered under her breath. The call from the prosecutor that morning about Jeffery’s release still had her on edge. Taking a deep breath, she slowly let it out, willing herself to relax.
Then she heard the scrape of shoes against the concrete floor. Faint like a whisper, but there was no mistake—someone was there.
Don’t turn around! Ashley gripped the briefcase tighter and picked up her pace.
When a set of headlights switched on, she cried out, then laughed when the driver pulled out of a parking space and drove toward the exit ramp. Another person who worked late. Relief swept over her, and she started walking again toward her car. She didn’t get far before the same scraping noise from before echoed around her. Heart pumping, icy terror racing down her spine, she forced herself to keep moving.
Then it was quiet.
Ashley strained her ears to listen as the seconds ticked by.
Nothing.
Probably another false alarm. I need to stop parking so far away. I can hit the treadmill instead. Her heels clacked on the ground as she hurried forward.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps reverberated off the concrete walls.
Oh shit! Someone is here. She ran with long strides, her boots pounding the pavement, both elbows swinging at her side. For an instant, exhilaration surged through her, but then panic replaced it as a raspy breath from behind filled her ears.
She ran faster, gasping for air while blood pumped through her veins, yet the footfalls quickened. With each thump appearing closer, fear slashed within her as tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes.
Pressing the keyless entry fob, the Buick’s headlights illuminated the dark corner of the garage. At the car, she flung open the door, jumped in, locked the doors, and started the engine. Ashley pulled out of the space and, with tires squealing, tore out of the parking garage. A person with baggy pants and a hoodie pulled down low ran after her. Cursing the winding ramps that led down to the street level, she gripped the steering wheel and concentrated on not crashing the car.
The stream of headlights on the street was a welcoming sight, and she quickly merged into traffic, putting more distance between herself and the garage.
By the time she secured a chair under the front door’s knob at