"What was that?" cries Sarah. Something brushes past her shoulder. "Dom, what are you doing?"
He's already pulling open the driver's side door of his Jeep. "Following them. We have to be quick, I don't want to lose them." He climbs in and the engine kicks into life before he even closes the door.
"Who said anything about following them?"
"I did, are you coming or not?"
Sarah throws her arms out. "Have you lost your mind? Are you actually going to---"
Melissa, whom Sara did not hear follow them and who hadn't bothered to even pull on her coat, throws open the passenger door and tosses her coat onto the seat before climbing in herself. "They're probably headed for the east-bound arterial," she says as she does so. "We have to catch up to them before that---"
Whatever else she says is cut off by the door slamming and is subsequently muffled by the roar of the jeep as Dom takes a quick u-turn and takes off towards the arterial.
Sarah looks helplessly to one end of the street, then looks to the other. In less than ten minutes things had gone from normal to weird, and then from weird to insane in less than three.
She throws out her arms again, but resigns herself to leaning against the street light and shaking her head. "Has everyone gone crazy?"
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Between the phone call and the events following, Jeff finds himself wondering much the same thing. Most immediately, this thought is directed to the third driver who has passed him out and cut him off.
Sammie cradles her side as best she can. "Did you have to pick me up like that?"
Jeff doesn't answer right away, so she begins to repeat the question, but he waves her quiet, then switches on the radio to some electronic dance station and cranks the volume. "I didn't have much of a choice," he says, just barely louder than the music. "It had to look convincing, from several angles."
"What do you mean?" she shouts over the music. Jeff shushes her again. "Why's the music so loud, anyway?"
"Cover," he says simply. He deliberately does not look at her; she's still demanding an answer, and though she'll get the answer eventually, it must wait.
"Where are we going?" By way of an answer Jeff tosses her the notebook from his coat. Even in a rush his handwriting was impeccable, but that shed no further light on the jumble of numbers and letters on the page. She does, however, recognize the name he's gone to the trouble of heavily circling.
"Isn't this a few towns east of here?"
"Precisely where it is." His face is still set.
"What is it?"
Jeff shakes his head. "I don't like this, I told you."
"But you knew you'd be called back---"
"I had a suspicion I might be called back into it. There's a difference."
"Either way, I still get to see---"
"You get to help. That involves some seeing, but mostly helping. If I had the choice you wouldn't be involved at all." He flexes and relaxes his grip on the wheel. "But, here we are. You get to help me out with this... issue with Phoebe."
Sammie nods. Some lights are in her eyes. She squints, then turns around to the back window.
"Jeff, has that car behind us been following us?"
"Curiosity must be catching," he mutters to himself.