CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The night was cold, the stars shining brightly, the snow just carved off the streets and pushed up into black and rolling brown hills of snow on either side of the street. But traffic was light. Only a few cars and the city’s Street and Maintenance personnel with their big dump trucks and front-loaders were out working to remove the mountains of snow. The Shelby GT350 was toasty warm and sitting behind the wheel it was a quite pleasure to listen to the car’s engine rumble each time I had to work myself up through the gears after leaving a traffic light.
It was the second light when I noticed the black Chrysler 300. And the moment my eyes caught the flash of its headlights in my rear-view mirror I felt the hairs on the back of my neck begin to tingle. But what really made
