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KINGPIN

As she headed back to Boise, she replayed the events in her mind. Lost in thought, she didn't see the other car until she was slamming into it with a jolt and the crunch of metal against metal.

Both cars were totaled, but no one was seriously hurt. When Amy's parents learned about the confrontation at Max's house, though, they began to fear for her life. A week after the accident, Amy went to the police, and Max was arrested.

Max told his friends that Amy was exaggerating the incident. In Amy's version of events, Max had kept her prisoner in his bedroom for an hour, his hands returning to her throat repeatedly, at one point briefly cutting off her breathing. In Max's version, he'd put his fingers loosely on her throat for one minute, but he hadn't choked her, and she was always free to leave. Amy said Max continued to phone her obsessively after the incident, issuing more threats; Max said he left her alone after pushing her out of his house. As far as Max was concerned, Amy was sacrificing him to get out of trouble for her car accident.

The county prosecutor offered Max a misdemeanor deal. But a month before he was scheduled to receive a forty-five-day slap on the wrist from the judge, Max—free on his own recognizance—spotted Amy walking hand in hand with a new boyfriend down University Avenue.

Once again, Max's emotions overrode his common sense. On impulse he pulled his father's repair-shop van onto a lawn and caught up with the couple on foot. His body was tight with tension as he circled the pair.

“Hi,” he said.
“You're not supposed to be around me,” Amy said in protest.
“Don't you remember what we used to have?”

Amy's escort spoke up, and Max gave him a warning: “Better watch yourself, friend.” Then he stalked off. A moment later, the roar of an engine. Max was back in the van, zooming across the center line toward the