Identity Unknown by Terri Reed Page B

snow-crusted road. She shut off the headlights and the interior dash lights, plunging them into darkness.
    â€œHold on, because there’s a turn up here and I’m going to make it without braking,” she said.
    From the backseat Paulson groaned. “You’re going to kill us.”
    * * *
    â€œHave a little faith, Paulson,” Audrey shot back. Her heart pumped a frantic rhythm beneath her breastbone. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. She eased her foot off the gas. The car incrementally slowed. How had they found them? Her mind grappled with possibilities. Something that had been bugging her roared to the center of her mind.
    How had the bad guys known where to find John when he’d washed ashore? And then when exactly to hit the ambulance?
    She downshifted and cranked the wheel, smoothly taking the turn into a break between two copses of trees, and brought the car to an abrupt halt.
    â€œJohn, check your clothes and your boots for a tracker.”
    â€œTracker?” His voice held a glint of surprise. “Of course.”
    John searched his clothes and gritted his teeth through the pain as he finally yanked off his boots, inspecting them. “Found it.” He rolled down the window, allowing the frigid air to swirl through the interior of the car while he chucked the tracking device out into the woods. “It was embedded in the heel of my boot.”
    Gratified and yet mad at herself for not thinking of it sooner, she pressed on the gas and they bounced along on a rough road with only the moonlight as their guide. A layer of snow that had crusted into ice crunched beneath their tires and twinkled in the moonbeams. She kept the car at a moderate speed, compared to how she’d been driving.
    â€œDo you know where you’re going?” Paulson asked in a shaky voice.
    â€œOf course. I know every inch of these woods,” she said. “Besides, there’s no way for them to know where we’re heading now.”
    After ten minutes and no sign of being followed, she flipped on the headlights, illuminating the trees and the snow covering the ground.
    The dirt road ended at a T. She slowed and took the turn to the right. They headed down another road, barely wide enough for the car. A pristine layer of white covered the swath of road, which ended at a large circle.
    She parked and popped open her door. The crashing of waves on the rocky shore could be heard even though she couldn’t see the ocean from where they were. “Okay, boys, we’re hiking from here.”
    â€œHiking to where?” Paulson asked from the backseat.
    She twisted around to look at him. “The lighthouse.”
    Paulson scoffed. “I thought you said you knew a safe place out here. I thought you meant a nice warm vacation home.”
    She held back a smile. “The lighthouse is safe.”
    Paulson shook his head. “And if they decide to look for us at the lighthouse, then what?”
    â€œWe’ll see them long before they reach us,” she told him. “And if we need it, there’s a dory we can use.”
    â€œA dory?” John opened his door.
    â€œA small flat-bottomed boat,” she answered. “There’s one docked at the lighthouse.”
    â€œGreat,” Paulson groused. “We can be ducks in a boat. And if the bad guys don’t do us in, the ocean will.”
    â€œRelax, Dan. The dory has a motor.” She climbed out of the car and shut the door. She flipped up the collar of her uniform jacket and regretted they couldn’t have driven right up to the lighthouse.
    John climbed out, slipped on the borrowed jacket and then hustled to the back of the car to pick up Audrey’s bag from the back hatch. “You lead the way,” he told her.
    She hesitated, fighting her need to be independent. “Thank you.” She flipped on her flashlight. “We’re going to be forging our own trail until we meet up with the official