FROM THE BACK COVER:
CALLING ALL CARS –
Somewhere on the turnpike there was a psychpathic killer, with the one person who could identify him now his hostage. It was early night, and he had already changed cars twice, at two turnpike restaurants where careless drivers had foolishly left their car keys in the ignition.
He was traveling south when he left New York; now he was going in the opposite direction. The car he was driving was like a thousand others. He was safe – an innocent, annonymous unit in a vast complex of speeding cars and flashing lights.
He felt seven feet tall and filled to the brim with cunning and daring…