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I activate the hands-free connection. Drew answers through the speakers without greeting.

“Six behind you,” I say. “Black SUV with a covered front plate.”

“I see it,” he replies. “It joined us from the station road.”

Cassie turns toward the side mirror but stops herself before making the movement obvious. “Is it following us?”

“We’re going to find out.” I maintain our speed as the road narrows to one lane in each direction. Woods press closer on the passenger side, broken by a metal barrier above a drainage slope. “Drew, let two cars pass when the lane opens. Benitez should photograph the driver if he gets a view.”

“Understood.”

The exchange leaves Cassie silent, which tells me more about her fear than questions would. I move my right hand from the console and place it over hers. She turns her palm beneath mine and grips my hand.

“Keep your seat belt tight,” I tell her. “If I give you an instruction, follow it without arguing.”

“I’m capable of that under very specific circumstances.”

“This qualifies.”

Drew slows when a short passing lane opens, letting a pickup and a compact car pass him. The SUV stays back until both vehicles pull ahead and the passing lane ends, then accelerates. The highway stretches ahead, with no oncoming traffic visible as the SUV crosses the center line and races past Drew.

“He’s coming up on your left,” Drew says.

“Stay behind him until I call you forward.” I release Cassie’s hand and place both hands on the wheel. “Cassie, lean toward me.”

She leans toward me as the SUV races up beside my door. Its tinted windows hide the driver, but I understand his plan when the guardrail begins along Cassie’s side of the road. The SUV moves right, crowding us toward the metal barrier.

I keep the wheel straight and press harder on the accelerator. Our SUV pulls ahead before the other driver can force Cassie’s door into the rail. The guardrail rushes past her window as his front bumper falls behind us, but he accelerates again.

“Drew, take his rear quarter,” I order.

Drew’s SUV surges forward. The other SUV drops back until its front bumper reaches our rear quarter panel, preparing to drive us toward the barrier again.

Years of training take over, keeping my hands firm on the wheel while anger urges me to end this. Once the barrier falls away, I could drive into his front quarter panel at the right angle and send him spinning across the oncoming lane. Then I see Cassie braced against the console beside me, trusting me to get her through this alive. I won’t trade her safety for the satisfaction of watching him crash.

I hold my line and speak to Drew. “Box him when the shoulder opens. Don’t make contact.”

The SUV lunges again just as the road widens near the intersection. Drew moves into the added lane beside its left rear panel, blocking the space the driver needs to pull away from us.

I brake enough to put the attacker ahead of us, protecting Cassie’s side while forcing him to choose between Drew and the barrier. At the intersection, the added lane ends. The driver cuts left across the oncoming lane, passes in front of an approaching delivery truck, and turns down a service road marked for forest access.

Drew follows for fifty yards before I call him back. The road is too narrow, the trees too dense, and a second vehicle could be waiting beyond the first curve.

“Let him go,” I order.

“I can still reach him.” Frustration hardens Drew’s voice through the speakers.

“Come back. He chose that road in advance.”

The SUV disappears among the trees. Drew reverses onto the highway after traffic clears and pulls behind us again. Benitez captured several photographs, but the tinted windows hide the driver and black covers conceal both plates.

I drive another mile before turning into the empty lot of a closed produce stand. Drew parks across the entrance while Benitez steps out to inspect our passenger side. Cassie remains seated until I shut off the engine.

“Are you hurt?” I ask.

She shakes her head, then rubs both palms over her jeans. “No, but I may have left fingerprints in your console.”

I take her chin between my fingers and turn her face toward the window, checking her pupils and the color beneath her skin. “Did your head strike anything?”