“He can’t touch me,” Richard said, his voice sinking into the steady, unbending tone he’d once used to command men under fire.

“And he’s never going to lay a hand on you again.”

She let her head fall back against the worn seat cover and closed her eyes as the steady drum of the tires filled the quiet cab.

Up ahead on the right, the broad exit ramp for the county general hospital opened out, its blue ER signs pointing toward downtown.

Two local police cruisers were parked on the gravel shoulder near the foot of the ramp, engines idling in the warm afternoon.