Tracy made eye contact with him in his rear view mirror and her heart skipped a beat. Tracy had never done anything like this before. The cold steel of the Beretta penetrated her jeans causing her to shiver involuntarily.
Whenever Tracy drove at night, she would constantly glance in her back seat. Paranoid, she'd check her mirrors to make sure no one had magically appeared in her speeding car to stab her to death. Her sister, Lucinda, was always the worst with that stuff. She would paint the picture of gruesome scenes that she saw when they were driving together and passed a car. But now Lucinda was dead and Tracy was tracking her killer.
His car stopped.
She put the car in park, and held the gun in between her sweaty hands. Could she do this? Kill a man? Avenging her sisters brutal rape and murder? He had gotten off scott free. Not a month of prison. How the jury found him not guilty she'd never know. But now it was time for her to do what she came here to do. Tracy got out of her jeep and aimed the gun…
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