Spark a Little Flame by Jennifer Archer

Author:Jennifer Archer [Archer, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780997599121
Publisher: Jennifer Archer Books
Published: 2020-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

After Roselyn gave the Uber driver the address to the dance studio, he pulled away from the curb in front of the Vegas airport. She looked out the back window. Just moments before, she’d watched the old woman from the plane climb into a cab behind them. It seemed paranoid to think Wanda might’ve followed them, but now that J.T. had placed the idea in her mind, Roselyn couldn’t shake it.

She turned, said to the young driver, “I’ll pay you an extra twenty dollars if you can lose the cab that’s following us.”

A pair of dark eyes peered back at her through the rearview mirror. “Sure, Ma’am. I can outdrive that old piece of junk blindfolded.” He chuckled. “Hang on.”

He wove his way deftly around cars and jaywalkers then hit the accelerator when they reached the main road.

Roselyn caught her breath, held tight to the side door handle with one hand.

“You could’ve saved yourself the twenty bucks,” J.T. whispered, then cursed under his breath. “The guy would’ve done this for free. He’s getting a rush out of it.”

They passed a Mazda, then cut in front of an SUV just in time to take the next exit.

The driver laughed. “That ought to do it.”

“I think I’d rather deal with Wanda than die in the back of this car,” J.T. whispered.

“What’s that?” The driver glanced over his shoulder. “I didn’t hear what you said.”

“Oh, nothing.” Roselyn gave a jittery laugh. “Just talking to myself. An embarrassing habit of mine, I’m afraid.”

Without slowing down, the car made a sharp right at the next intersection, then another quick left down an alleyway. The driver looked over his shoulder, out the back window, then back at the road. “I hope you don’t mind the scenic route, ma’am. Might be a little bumpy but it’ll get us where we’re going.”

Roselyn gripped the door handle tighter and turned to look out the back window. “Apparently the person driving that piece of junk cab is aware of that fact too. He just turned in behind us.”

The Uber driver looked into the rearview mirror and cursed under his breath. He picked up speed.

J.T. slid into Roselyn as they whipped around another corner and onto a main street. “He’s going to freaking kill somebody.”

“Who said that?”

Roselyn met the driver’s gaze in the mirror. “I did. Who else?”

“It sounded like a man.”

She pressed a hand to her throat. “Laryngitis. It comes and goes.”

Ten minutes later, they screeched to a stop in front of All That Jazz, the dance studio Roselyn’s mother owned with Barb and Sully. Located just five minutes from the Strip, the street was alive with traffic and noise and people.

“Here you go,” the driver said. “Safe and sound and all alone.”

Roselyn’s adrenaline still soared from the ride, and she was shaking as she thanked the driver and handed him a twenty dollar bill.

He met her outside, took the bags from the trunk, then climbed back behind the wheel and drove away.

“It’s a good thing I didn’t eat much breakfast this morning,” J.

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