Serendipity (Book 1 of the Dana Halliday series)

DANA. THE DOG. NOTHING IF NOT PREDICTABLE.

I was trapped in my car.

My hands gripped the steering wheel of my trusty Subaru steed as I floundered for breath. My breathing turned the windshield to a bland gray wall, the half-flayed wipers taunting the slivers of frost my scraper had missed that morning. My heart flailed about in my chest, like a toddler having a particularly tragicomic tantrum.

Some primitive cluster of neurons in my brain announced that we were sinking in water, perhaps the water of the modest river we drove across every time I left home. After all, the river was churning with what was the first of umpteen autumn and winter rains to come. Quite possibly there were sharks, or least piranha, in the water.

I cranked down the driver's side window, feeling the ancient mechanism balk at my elbow grease. We—me and Sir Subaru, Knight of the Manual Everything—weren't really sinking in water. We weren't even moving.

Symbolic, that.

"I can't...do...this," I squeaked to myself.

Nope, I was just having a panic attack.

"This isn't like you, Dana," I muttered.

I turned off the stereo, which boasted an actual tape player. At the moment, a tape was permanently jammed in it: the Led Zeppelin album that has the old man with the sticks on the cover. Mostly I listened to the radio; much as I loved "Black Dog" and all that, it got a little old after a while.

"You can handle it. No big deal," I continued, grasping the steering wheel again. "It's just a rude client who thinks he's the boss's best friend. First thing in the morning, so we get it over with. No big deal."

Chilly air and a few spatters of rain hit my face. I watched, trying to slow my breathing, as my boss, Jack Goodwin, pulled up in his equally venerable pickup. He waited for my friend, Jennifer, our lead technician, as she drifted into the parking spot next to him.

"Come on," I said under my breath. "Jack's gonna think you're cracking up, or pregnant, or something." I shuddered at the thought. "You don't care if a client doesn't like you. You don't take it personally."

That had been true.

Jennifer's dyed black hair had a stylish streak of grape-soda purple this morning. She saluted Jack with her coffee.

"Yeah, go ahead and roll your eyes, Jack." My voice was a crazytown murmur; my head was pounding along with my heart. "You're just mad that you can't hit on her."

Our boss crossed his arms and shook his head at Jen. Too much, he was probably saying. No hair colors that don't appear in nature. Have it gone by tomorrow.

Jen spread her hands, affecting shock. I woke up like this, I don't know what happened! Maybe it was aliens!

"That's right, Jen." Imagining the oft-repeated dialogue calmed me down a bit. "He'll forget about it by tomorrow, won't he?" He was nothing if not predictable, ol'Doc Goodwin.

I exhaled and then wrote the word HELP in the fog on my windshield, backward.

"Good morning, Dana!" Jen called to me.

I waved and tried a smile, doing my best not to look all flustered. It would be enough for Jack, who would be preoccupied with Jen calling me by my first name rather than my title. That was probably what he was muttering at her as she changed course and headed my way.

Nobody should be able to make navy blue scrubs look that good.

I gave Jennifer a brave grin as she sauntered over to my car, leaned in the window, and planted a dry kiss on my lips.