Please, please don’t go over the edge! she begged silently. For one awful moment the car continued to skid toward the cliff’s edge. Then the brakes finally held, and the car shuddered to a stop. Nancy’s legs felt like jelly as she backed onto the road and drove to the next overlook. She pulled in and parked beside an empty car. Falling forward, she rested her head against the steering wheel and took in deep breaths of air to still her pounding heart. “That was a close one,” George said, slowly relaxing her grip on the dashboard. After opening her purse George fumbled around in it. “That truck had a logo painted on the side—a pine tree, very stylized,” she said, pulling out an envelope and a pen. With a shaky hand she began to sketch a pine tree, its branches curved and capped with white, like ocean waves. “I couldn’t read the name, but I figure someone will know who the truck belongs to if we show them this picture,” George continued, holding the drawing out to Nancy.
