She didn't move when the patrol car stopped ten feet from her and idled there for a moment while the man inside checked her out. Damnit, she should have left her gun with Annie. She was trying to stop a cop car with her holster clearly visible by holding up an FBI badge that probably looked like a Cracker Jack prize at this distance. "Sharon Mueller, FBI!" she hollered. Another moment, and the driver's door opened and a man slid out to crouch behind it. She could see his eyes over the window frame and not much more. Good cop, she thought. Careful cop. "Both hands over your head, ma'am!" he shouted. "Higher!" Sharon complied, holding rock-still as he rose slowly and moved toward her. His weapon was drawn and in both hands, pointed straight at her. "Now step forward, put your weapon on the hood, please, then step well back." Sharon did exactly as she was asked, careful to point the gun away from the man. Back in the trees, Grace had a bead on the man's forehead, hoping like hell this was a seasoned, steady cop who was just taking precautions and not the kind who got nervous, got twitchy, and sometimes made tragic mistakes, like shooting a fellow officer who'd been running for her life all night from other men with guns.
