The car was still following closely. Jacqueline had noticed it as she left the restaurant, but she hadn’t thought much about it. Three miles later, though, there was less traffic. The car hadn’t made any turns. It wasn’t a police car, either, or Jacqueline would have seen the lights and heard the siren. She looked into her rearview mirror; the car was still there. It wasn’t close enough for her to see the driver, and that made her even more uneasy.

There were just two more miles to go, so Jacqueline opted to stick with her plan. For now, she was safe, anyway. She decided to turn on the radio for company. All she heard, though, was the squawk of a bunch of advertisements for things she didn’t want and places she wasn’t going to go. She stabbed at the radio button. Silence was probably better anyway.

The streets started to get narrower and the houses fewer and farther between. Jacqueline swallowed hard and looked in her mirror again. She could still see the headlights of the car behind her. Her scalp prickled with sweat even though it was chilly outside. She would definitely have a large glass of wine when she got home.

There was only one mile to go. It was pitch-black outside, and Jacqueline’s headlights picked up leaves as they whirled across the road. Whoever’d been following her was still there. Jacqueline had heard of thieves who followed people until they got wherever they were going, and then robbed them. Was this one of those people?

Then, Jacqueline saw it – a brightly-lit drugstore sign. She veered suddenly, pulled into the parking lot, and stopped. The other car couldn’t stop in time and drove past. She wasn’t fooled, though. If it was a professional, that car would be back. She hurried into the store and looked around. There were only a few customers. The clerk looked up at her with mild interest, and Jacqueline made the pretense of getting a bag of pretzels and a bottle of water.

‘Anything else?’ the clerk asked. Should she tell him she’d been followed? No, it would only make her look crazy. Besides, she had her phone with her if it came to calling the police. She just really didn’t want to do that if she didn’t have to.
‘No, thanks – actually, could I use the restroom?’
The clerk nodded and gestured towards a large key that lay on the counter. Jacqueline thanked him and went to the back of the store where the restrooms were. When she was finished, she stayed back near a door labeled ‘Employees Only.’ Whoever had been following her might come into the store. When six or seven minutes had gone by, Jacqueline decided it was safe to leave. She picked up her pretzels and water and walked out of the store, dropping the key on the counter as she did.

Jacqueline was glad of the lights in the parking lot. She looked around for other cars. None of them looked like the car that had been following her.  A check around her own car showed nothing. The backseat was empty, except for the things she’d put there earlier. Satisfied that she was safe, Jacqueline opened the door, dropped her pretzels and water on the passenger seat, and started the car, slamming the door at the same time.

There was just a half-mile to go, but just to be safe, Jacqueline checked her mirror again. There it was! The same car was still following her. This couldn’t go on anymore. She pulled to a stop by the side of the road. The other car stopped behind her. The driver got out – a tall guy wearing a heavy jacket. His hands were in his pockets. Jacqueline took a deep breath as he walked towards her.
‘Why are you following me?’ she demanded.
The man kept getting closer. ‘Just give me what you got, sweetie,’ he growled. Jacqueline slowly backed towards her car, watching him closely as she put one foot behind the other. ‘I don’t have cash.’ She held up both hands.
‘You got something else I want.’ He smirked as he got nearer. She was almost to the car. If she could just get there, she’d be alright. A car drove by them, its headlights showing that the guy’s jacket was navy and his jeans were black. He was holding a knife.

Jacqueline finally felt her own car behind her. She reached behind her and opened the backseat door. She grabbed the gun she’d put there before she went to dinner, and turned around, slamming the door and stepping to one side just as the man lunged. His knife left a long, deep scratch on the paint, but Jacqueline could live with that.

When the man who’d been following Jacqueline saw the gun, he dropped his knife and started to turn and run. Jacqueline aimed and dropped him where he stood, watching him crumple to the ground. She felt a little shaky, which bothered her. It made her feel like an amateur. Still, it had been a close call.

After making sure nobody had seen what happened, Jacqueline went back to her car, took another look around, and got in. She still had ten minutes to go before her client’s wife was due home. Their house was just a quarter mile down the road, but she didn’t want to be late. There was no fear of that, though. She found the house easily – it was big and beautiful – and left the car tucked back in a curve in the road about a hundred feet from the house. She got her gun and headed towards the house, hiding behind a bush when she got to the driveway. It would be the perfect place to wait. Soon a silver Mercedes pulled in. It was the right car. As Jacqueline got her gun ready, she thought she really ought to charge the client extra. Two-for-one hits was not her style.