Interstate 95

Jenny turned from her study of the passing trees and looked at Mindy again. "Are you going to write a story about all of all this?"

"Actually, I think it has the makings of a best-selling true crime novel. I'm taking really good notes as I go along, if that tells you anything."

Jenny smiled. "So, I could be sitting next to a future best-selling author."

Mindy laughed. "Right."

"Hey, think positive. Who better to write about this maniac than the one who uncovered him?"

Mindy thought about Jenny's words and had to admit that it made sense. She would be the most logical person to write Matthew Fox's crazy-and horrifying-story. She had the background, the FBI experience, and the ideas. Now, she just needed the ending. After that, timing would be of the essence. In short, she needed to beat everyone else to the punch when it came to publishing the story, and she needed to do it all and still come out of it alive. "I guess you're right. I never thought about it like that."

Jenny cut her gaze to the side. "If you need a good literary agent let me know," she said. "I know people."

Mindy laughed. "I need all the help I can get. Up until now, I've just blindly sent my material out to perspective publications in the hope of getting some kind of track record. It'd be nice to have an agent to guide things in the right direction; someone who knows the business side of things." She met the other woman's gaze. "You offering your services?"