The young woman emerged from the air-conditioned bar into the steamy heat of a July night. Two too many drinks had made her legs a little rubbery, but she could handle it. Tonight, liquor had been a rare necessity. It dulled the pain of learning that her husband had been unfaithful--and with her supposed best girlfriend.

Could she forgive him? Was there any way to wipe from her mind the image of him having sex with another woman? Tangled sheets, bare limbs, and heaving bodies. Whispered words of love. The painful answer was: no.

She could make it on her own. Tomorrow, she would call her lawyer. Tomorrow, she would think about what to do with the rest of her life. Her long slender fingers touched the slight bulge of her abdomen. Now, there was another life to consider. Pregnancy, drinking, and driving were a lethal combination, but she vowed it would never happen again. Tomorrow she would begin her life anew. Starting over was something she was getting good at.

Her Jaguar glistened like a jewel against the black-velvet asphalt. The streetlight imparted a slightly greenish tint to the sparkling white finish of the car. She settled into the comfortable leather seat and turned the key. The engine purred as though begging to show the power lurking beneath the hood.

Nothing like a new car to lift a girl’s spirits she quietly mused then inhaled slowly. That distinctive smell of newness was pleasant--even if it did come from a spray can.

Removing the wedding ring from her finger was a slow, ceremonial gesture. That touch of finality. She dropped it into her purse then slipped the gear lever into drive.

Fifteen minutes later she stopped for a red light. Her moody concentration was jolted when she was bumped from behind. Without thinking about the late hour or the seedy part of town she was crossing through, she angrily threw open the door. She was a little unsteady in three-inch heels and braced herself against the fender as she stomped back to confront the driver.

"You dumb son of a bitch! Didn’t you see the red light? I haven’t had this car two weeks."

"Angie, baby."

She peered into the dark interior of the car, wondering if the face was familiar, wondering which of her friends was playing a sick joke on her. "What the--"

The shining blue barrel of a pistol lifted to her face. She never heard the blast that claimed her young life.