Drive Time

Начало книги

I can’t wait to tell our secret. And I’ll get to do it if we’re not all killed first.

We’re ten minutes away from Channel 3 when suddenly the Boston skyline disappears. Murky slush splatters across our windshield, kicked up from the tires of the rattletrap big rig that just swerved in front of us on the snow-slick highway. Eighteen wheels of obstacle, stubbornly obeying the Massachusetts Turnpike speed limit.

I brace myself once again. During this afternoon’s teeth-clenching, bone-rattling, knuckle-whitening drive, I’ve learned how J.T. feels about speed limits.

“Fifty-five is for cowards!” he mutters. My new photographer powers our unmarked car into the passing lane, sloshing what’s left of my coffee and almost throwing me across the backseat. Franklin, seemingly oblivious to our icy peril, is in the front seat clicking on his newest phone gizmo. As usual these days, my producer’s deep into texting.

Читать дальше →