8 AM

CRAIG turned the key in the ignition of the Ferrari. Behind him, the huge rear-mounted VI2 engine started, then died.

Craig closed his eyes. "Not now," he said aloud. "Don't let me down now."

He turned the key again. The engine fired, faltered, then roared like an angry bull. Craig pumped the throttle, just to be sure, and the roar turned into a howl.

He looked at the phone. It said: "Searching . . ." He jabbed at the number pad, dialing 999, even though he knew it was useless before the phone had connected to the network. "Come on," he urged. "I don't have much time—"

The side door of the garage flew open, and Sophie stumbled in.

Craig was taken by surprise. He thought Sophie was in the hands of the dreadful Daisy. He had watched as Daisy dragged her out of the garage. He had wanted desperately to rescue her, but he did not think he could beat Daisy in a fight even if she had not had a gun. He had struggled to remain calm as he watched Daisy maliciously dragging Sophie along by the hair. He kept telling himself that the best thing he could do for Sophie was to stay free and phone the police.

Now she seemed to have escaped unaided. She was sobbing and panicky, and he guessed that Daisy must be on her tail.

The passenger side of the car was so close to the wall that the door could not be opened. Craig threw open the driver's door and said, "Get in quick—climb over me!"

She staggered over to the car and fell in.

Craig slammed the door.

He did not know how to lock it, and he was too rushed to find out. Daisy could not be more than a few seconds away, he figured, as Sophie scrambled over him. There was no time to phone—they had to get out of there. As Sophie collapsed into the passenger seat, he fumbled under the dashboard and found the remote control device that opened the garage door. He pressed it, and heard behind him a squeak of unlubricated metal as the mechanism operated. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the up-and-over door begin to move slowly.

Then Daisy came in.

Her face was red with exertion and her eyes were wide with rage. There was snow in the creases of her black leather clothes. She hesitated in the doorway, peering into the gloom of the garage; then her staring eyes locked on to Craig in the driving seat of the car.

He depressed the clutch and shoved the gearshift into reverse. It was never easy, with the Ferrari's six-speed box. The stick resisted his push, and there was a grinding of cogs; then something slipped into place.

Daisy ran across the front of the car and came to the driver's side. Her tan glove closed on the door handle.

The garage door was not yet fully open, but Craig could wait no longer. Just as Daisy opened the car door, he released the clutch and trod on the accelerator pedal.

The car leaped backwards as if fired from a catapult. Its roof struck the lower edge of the aluminum garage door with a clang. Sophie gave a yell of fear.

The car flew out of the garage like a champagne cork. Craig stamped on the brake. The snowplow had cleared the thick overnight layer of snow from in front of the garage, but more had fallen since, and the concrete apron was slippery. The Ferrari went into a backwards skid and stopped with a bump against a bank of snow.

Daisy came out of the garage. Craig could see her clearly in the gray dawn light. She hesitated.

The car phone suddenly spoke in a female voice. "You have one new message."

Craig pushed the gearshift into what he hoped was first. He eased the clutch out and, to his relief, the tires found purchase and the car moved forward. He turned the wheel, heading for the way out. If only he could make it onto the drive, he could get away from here with Sophie and summon help.

Daisy must have had the same thought, for she fumbled in the pocket of her jacket and brought out a gun.

"Get down!" Craig yelled at Sophie. "She's going to shoot!"

As Daisy leveled the gun, he stamped on the accelerator and swung the steering wheel, desperate to get away.

The car went into a skid, slipping across the icy concrete. Alongside his fear and panic, Craig had the feeling of deja vu: he had skidded this car, in this place, only yesterday, a lifetime ago. Now he struggled to control the vehicle, but the ground was even more slippery after a night of steady snow and freezing temperatures.

He turned into the skid, and for a moment the tires gripped again, but he overdid it, and the car skidded in the opposite direction and spun around in a half circle. Sophie was flung from side to side in the passenger seat. He kept waiting for the bang of a gunshot, but none came yet. The only good thing, a part of Craig's terrified mind told him, was that it was impossible for Daisy to take steady aim at a vehicle that was being driven so erratically.

The car stopped, with great good luck, in the middle of the drive, facing directly away from the house and toward the lane. The path in front of Craig had obviously been swept by the snowplow. He had a clear road to freedom.

He pres............