Jake eyed Sarah as she gripped the steering wheel of the midnight blue Tahoe, tight-lipped and eyebrows pinched. She merged into traffic onto Interstate 4 and mashed the accelerator. The V-8 engine roared as the speedometer climbed from fifty to over eighty miles per hour in seconds. Jake's head bounced off of the neck rest with a whiplash.

He glared at Sarah. "For the love of..."

"Would you like me to lose the mystery man?"

"Yes. Of course, I would like you to lose him."

"Then don't get all sensitive with my driving."

"Sorry."

"Good." Sarah's eyes flitted toward him, a frown forming, her cheeks flushing red. Her fair skin contrasted against her purple satin top and beige pants. Jake saw no fear, only anger and frustration in the stormy wrinkle on her forehead. More than the critique of her driving skills, she seemed tired of dealing with these people.

Jake checked the passenger side mirror. The black Mercedes was nowhere to be found. The mystery man must have fallen further behind, thanks to Sarah's heavy foot. Or he got stuck at a red light. Maybe Jake was overreacting, and there was no reason for concern. But it became clear they had a problem when the car stayed on their tail as they turned off Orange Avenue. The man's dark eyes oozed an air of deviousness. If he could have killed them with his stare, they'd be on their way to the morgue instead of Sarah's house.

The man could have sensed they'd seen him and slipped further behind them in the maze of rush hour automobiles. Jake scrutinized the vehicles in the side and rearview mirror. The gleaming car had vanished, no longer weaving in and out of traffic.

"I think we shook him," he said.

Sarah drummed her fingers on the wheel. She exhaled a gush of air and relaxed somewhat. Her forehead smoothed, mouth parted. "Hopefully."

"That was intense," Tony said. His knuckles cracked from the back seat.

Jake wished he could relieve the pressure like these two could. Gnawing on his bottom lip did nothing but hurt if he bit down too hard. Finally, out of the city limits and nearing the town of Kissimmee, Sarah exited off the interstate, and they soon found themselves in a more peaceful suburb. Sarah's home was in Cypress Lakes, a quiet community where a family could settle down and enjoy a normal life. Jake felt confident she made more money than most of the subdivision's residents, thanks to her position at Sea Lab and her doctorate degree. Yet she remained level-headed.

The sun dipped low in the sky as they neared their destination with the headlights on. Jake spotted the street sign, Blue Bayou Drive, long before Sarah made the turn. The Tahoe approached a one-story brick house on the right with a front facing garage.

Jake skimmed the neighborhood, looking for anything irregular. Nothing but front porch lights, cars parked along the side of the street, and a battery powered Bigfoot truck on a manicured lawn, small enough for a four-year-old to drive.

His paranoia eased a bit as Sarah pulled into her driveway and stopped behind her covered boat.

Everyone came to the same conclusion concerning the Mercedes and its driver. Too many bad things had happened lately for the run in to be a coincidence. Jake was glad, however, that Sarah and Tony were spending the night at his place for convenience's sake because of the drive to the airport in the morning. Then once their plane departed, he assumed at last, they could breathe easy.

"I'll come in with you," Jake said.

"It won't take ten minutes to throw something on and pack my bags. I'll be right back. Stay put." She exited the vehicle, not allowing much of a chance for a response.

Sarah cut through the front yard to the sidewalk and hurried to the front door.

Jake wagged his head. He couldn't help but be attracted to a smart, independent, and beautiful woman in a four-wheel-drive pulling a boat.

"You're being overprotective," Tony said from the backseat.

"Yeah, well, guess it's my nature."

Sarah unlocked the front door and disappeared inside. The anxiety of having her out of sight built for Jake. His legs fidgeted. He couldn't take his eyes off the front door. And he wanted to pop his knuckles like Tony did all the time. To combat the feeling, he lowered the driver and passenger side windows, allowing a light breeze to enter the vehicle. He breathed in the fresh air and leaned back. Better. The smell of steaks on someone's grill heightened his senses. A dog barked, the sound coming from the direction of Sarah's house.

"When did she get a pooch?" Tony asked.

Jake guessed he hadn't paid attention earlier. "She's had it for a while. Maybe six months."

"She got it to replace you."

"Shut up."

"Just saying."

"Well, don't."

Jake's eyes drifted from the brick home to the opposite side of the road. At that moment, a street light flickered on, revealing the front end of a black car parked under the shadow of a large oak tree. He stiffened when he saw the emblem on the hood.

A Mercedes.

With a man behind the wheel.

"Sarah!" He burst from the SUV.

Jake didn't know what overtook him. It must have been pure instinct. He could have reacted fifty different ways, but he sensed he had to get to her fast.

Tony, a few steps behind, joined him in a sprint for the house.

Halfway through the yard, a sound like thunder erupted from inside. Flames spilled from the windows and curled up on the roof. The whole dwelling shook like a freight train. Large chunks of the house exploded up and out. Some parts disintegrated in a column of fiery smoke, rolling skyward.

The blazing heat flung Jake and Tony backwards, the force flattening them to the ground.

A wave rushed over Jake, singeing the hairs on his arms and face, paralyzing his body with its raw power. As he waited for the surge to pass, time slowed down. Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes like hours. After the initial explosion subsided, with his ears ringing, Jake struggled onto all fours, pushed up to his knees and finally made it to his feet, urgency compelling him to move even though his body didn't want to.

A rain of debris pounded the grass with burning splinters of wood and blackened brick. Each impact slapped the lawn with tiny thuds.

Across the street, the Mercedes rumbled to life. Headlights switched on.

The tires squealed over the pavement, burning smoke. Before Jake could react, the car sped down the street, made a hard left, and disappeared.

Jake whipped his head around and found Tony in a daze on his knees, his face covered with soot, hair a tangled mess, bleeding from his forehead. He rushed to his side and helped him to his feet. "We have to find Sarah."

Tony nodded but didn't reply.

"You take the side by the garage. I'll take the other side. We can't get into the front of the house. It's out of control. Look for an opening that isn't ablaze and see if you can get in."

"Find Sarah," Tony said, "right side."

"Can you make it?"

"I'll be fine." He winced. "Just a few cobwebs."

"Let's go."

Jake made sure Tony was headed in the right direction, and then set off himself.

The inferno continued, but above the noise of the crackling flames, he heard the whimper of a dog. Ignoring the whines of the animal, he centered his thoughts on rescuing Sarah. If she was still alive, it would be a miracle. Doubt bombarded his mind, but with determination, he cast it aside.

On the far side of the house, the explosion had blown out a gaping hole with bricks scattered everywhere. He tried to stick his head in the gap, but the heat was unbearable. From what he could see, the interior rubble kindled with pops and cracks.

Jake pulled back, searching for another entry point. That's when he saw the privacy fence ahead. Flames flickered around a charred hole, several planks blasted out, leaving a path to the backyard.

With his head pounding from the concussive force of the explosion, he stumbled through the opening and rounded the rear of the house. Again, the dog howled and whined through a dense fog of black smoke.

Jake cleared the haze, holding his shirt over his nose and mouth. Quickly, he saw the source of the commotion. A golden retriever.

The animal sat next to a woman slumped over on the grass. On her knees, Sarah's arms rested on her thighs. Debris littered the backyard. Between fits, the dog licked its owner's forehead.

"Sarah." Jake drew closer as Tony rounded the other side of the house.

He sprinted to her, and just as he knelt beside her, she looked up at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her cheeks dark and dirty from the smoke and heat. A trickle of blood ran from a cut on her chin.

"You're worried about me?"

Strands of her wild hair hung down in her face. "I guess the shrimp festival is off the table tonight."

"Likely."

Sarah's eyes stared defiantly at Jake. "I don't care what my father says, we're still going to Australia."