by Laura Scott
The back end of her car swerved. The steering wheel jerked. Trees loomed before her, and the next thing she knew the airbag exploded in her face.
9
“Trina! Are you all right?”
She turned her head to the sound of Jeremy’s voice. The driver’s side door was open, and he was crouched down so his eyes were on her level. She didn’t think she’d lost consciousness but felt dazed as if her face and body had been punched by a dozen professional boxers.
Why was it that every time something happened to her Jeremy was the one to find her? These attacks were escalating to the point they were personal.
Who wanted to hurt her? And why?
“Easy now.” He put his hand on her shoulder to prevent her from getting out of the Prius. “I need you to tell me what hurts.”
“Everything.” She lifted a hand to her face to see if she was bleeding. She wasn’t. “How did you get here? I don’t remember calling you.”
“I drove.” He was looking at her with concern. “Trey wasn’t feeling well, so I offered to run into town to pick up something to settle his stomach. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the taillights off the road. I panicked when I recognized your car. I called nine one one, someone should be here soon.”
She wished he hadn’t bothered. “Did you see another vehicle? Like maybe a truck?” Her hand instinctively went to her belt, but she wasn’t armed or wearing her uniform.
She was dressed for a wedding.
“A black truck passed me by, but I wasn’t paying much attention to it or the driver.” Jeremy put his hand on her shoulder. “Give me a minute to examine you before you get out of the car.”
“I’m fine.” Her headache had returned, likely from being struck so soon after the initial blow the day before. “Thanks to the airbag, I don’t think I’ve broken any bones.”
Jeremy ignored her, running his hands up and down her limbs, then palpating her shoulders, neck, and her head. The bruised area from the day before was still tender, making her wince.
“Okay, I’m going to help you stand.”
“I’m not an invalid.” She turned in her seat, intending to stand under her own power. But her knees were wobbly, and without Jeremy’s arm around her waist, she figured she’d have fallen face forward into the brush.
For the second time in less than as many hours, Jeremy held her in his arms, close to his chest. She wanted to lean on him for strength and support but knew that a deputy would be on scene shortly.
As a female cop, she couldn’t afford to show signs of weakness.
The deputy vehicle rolled toward them, lights flashing but no sirens. When Deputy Nathan Beck slid out from behind the wheel, she let out a low groan.
“Did you swerve to avoid a deer and lose control of your car?” Beck’s expression held disdain.
“A truck struck me from behind, twice.” She kept her tone even, despite how she wanted to smack the smug expression from his face. “This was no accident.”
“Really?” Beck didn’t bother to hide the doubt in his tone. Instead, he took out his flashlight and aimed the beam along the back of her car.
Jeremy scowled as the deputy shrugged and clicked the light off, shoving it back into the loop on his belt. “No evidence of that, but if that’s your statement, I’ll go with it.”
“It’s the truth.” She leaned against her crumpled car, hoping Beck wouldn’t notice how her hands were shaking. “This is the second attack against me in two days.”
Beck lifted a brow. “And why is that? Who could possibly be holding a grudge against you?”
“Maybe the guy working the meth lab. I’ve made no secret of my intent to shut them down.”
Beck didn’t seem impressed with her theory. Then again, he was rarely impressed with anything she did.
He was an old-school cop all the way. And full of resentment that he hadn’t been voted in as Sheriff during last year’s campaign. Why he continued to work the graveyard shift was a mystery to her.
“Hey, Beck, I think you missed a spot.” Jeremy had his phone flashlight application on and was holding it steady on the back end of her car. “This looks like black paint or rubber from a bumper to me.”
Beck joined Jeremy and leaned close. “Could be.”
“Take a photo as evidence,” she directed. When he didn’t move, she pushed away from the car. “If you don’t, I will.”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I’ll get the photo.” Beck pulled out his cell phone and snapped several pictures. She noticed Jeremy did, too, and wanted to kiss him for that.
She didn’t trust Beck’s photos to make it into the report, but at least she’d have Jeremy’s as a backup.
The sound of an ambulance siren made her wince. Her stomach rolled, and she knew that despite the airbag’s cushion, she could easily have another concussion. More protocol baloney.
No way was she going back to the hospital. Even though she felt lousy, she fully intended to work the following day simply so she could investigate this incident with a tenacity she knew Beck lacked.
“Radio dispatch, have them call the ambulance off,” she told Beck. “I’m fine.”
“They’ll want to check you over regardless,” Beck told her.
“Jeremy is a doctor. I think his opinion is more important than the EMT’s.”
“Actually, I think it’s best if you go in again for another scan,” Jeremy said.
“No.” She kept her voice firm, refusing to give in this time. “I don’t feel nearly as bad as I did the other day, and that scan turned out to be fine. Going again is a waste of time and money.” She looked at her car and sighed. “But it looks like I need a tow truck.”
“I’ll have dispatch call one.” Beck turned and walked back toward his squad, speaking into the radio hooked to his collar in a low voice.
She was sure he was letting the dispatcher know that a deputy was involved in the crash and likely wasn’t giving the additional details about how she’d been targeted on purpose.
Whatever. She’d write her own report as an addendum to Beck’s. He could gloss over this all he wanted, but she’d make sure everyone knew her theory.
She needed to figure out who was behind these attacks and why.
Before there was another, more successful attempt against her.
Jeremy didn’t like anything about this. Not Nathan Beck or the fact that someone had purposefully slammed into Trina, causing her to crash in the woods.
He was thankful she wasn’t hurt too badly, but he was still worried about the possibility of another concussion. Coming upon her car, front end smashed into the trees, had given him a flashback of his own crash.
He curled his damaged fingers into fists. He was glad she’d gotten out of the car without any apparent injury, despite how his crash had ended his career. Yet the whole thing made him angry. Finding Trina sitting and staring blankly at the shattered windshield had sent his pulse skyrocketing with fear.
“Tow truck is on the way,” Beck announced as he returned to the scene. “And the ambulance is here.”
Trina protested, but the EMTs checked her out and had her sign a waiver before they’d leave. Jeremy wanted to assure them he’d look after her for the remainder of the night, but he didn’t want to argue about his staying in her apartment again, especially not in front of Deputy Beck.
The jerk looked bored with the whole scene. Jeremy knew that if he hadn’t found the black smudge on Trina’s car, the idiot would have written the whole thing off as a possible deer avoidance crash or some other type of nonsense.
“Do you need anything else from me?” Beck asked once the ambulance drove away. “I’d like to get back into town before the tourists start throwing punches at each other.”
“Go.” Trina’s clipped tone made him want to cheer her on. “There’s nothing I need from you.”
Beck frowned as if sensing he’d been insulted, but then turned to head back to his squad. Seconds later, Beck was back out on
the highway heading toward town.
“That guy couldn’t see a piece of evidence unless it smacked him in the face.” Jeremy didn’t hide his disgust. “You need to file a complaint against him.”
“For what?” Trina waved a hand. “Being a jerk isn’t a crime.”
“He didn’t even bother to verify your story!” He was outraged by the deputy’s incompetence. “I had to point out the black mark; he never saw it.”
“Thank you for that, and for taking a photo, too.”
“No problem.” He considered calling the Sheriff to let him know how much of an idiot Nathan Beck was. He didn’t want the complaint to backfire on Trina, but something needed to be done about the guy’s sucky attitude.
And Jeremy really wanted to be the one to take him down a peg or two. But for now, Trina was his one and only priority.
“Do you remember any details about the black truck? Make, model, anything?” Trina asked.
“Nothing other than it was big. I’m not a car guy, that’s Jesse’s area of expertise.”
“I know, but Jesse wasn’t here.” Her gaze turned thoughtful. “Unfortunately, black trucks are fairly common, but maybe I can narrow it down by running a list of trucks registered to people living in Clark County. It may offer a clue as to who might be involved.”
“Good plan.” He admired her ability to find a way to narrow down the list of suspects. Glancing at his watch, he winced. Jemma was waiting for Trey’s medicine. “I need to call Jemma, let her know I’ll be a while.”
“No reason for you to stay,” she argued. “The tow truck should be here soon, and I’m sure the driver will drop me off at home.”
“I’m not leaving you alone.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his list of recent calls to find Jemma. “What if the driver of the black truck decides to swing by again? Beck won’t be any help, that’s for sure.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted just as his sister answered the call.
“Jeremy? Is something wrong?” Jemma’s voice held concern.
“Yeah, Trina was involved in a car crash, I haven’t made it to the store yet. How’s Trey?”
“He actually just fell asleep. And the store is probably closed by now anyway, so no need to pick anything up. I think Trey just had too many cupcakes.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s asleep.” He hesitated, aware of Trina listening to his side of the conversation. “I’ll check in with you later.”
“I get it, you’re going to stay with Trina again.” Jemma knew him all too well. “Don’t worry about checking back with me, I know where to find you if needed.”
“Thanks, Jemma, and congrats again. Garth is one lucky man to have found you.”
“We found each other,” Jemma corrected. “And I’m blessed to have such an amazing husband and stepfather for Trey. I hope Trina feels better soon. Good night, Jeremy.”
“Night.” He disconnected from the line, then straightened when a pair of headlights loomed on the horizon. “I hope that’s the tow truck.”
“Me, too,” Trina agreed.
The tow truck rumbled toward them, pulling off to the side of the road. It didn’t take long for the driver to sling up the front of the Prius. The driver shook his head as he took note of Trina’s credit card information.
“You need to call your insurance company. I hate to tell you, but this baby is likely totaled. From what I can see, the engine block is cracked, and with the airbag deployment, there’s no way they’ll end up paying for repairs.”
“I will.” Trina waited until the tow truck rolled away before following him to his vehicle. “I hope Sheriff Donnelly will allow me to use a squad while I wait for the insurance payout.”
“If not, I can help you.” The words popped out of his mouth before he could stop them. He opened the passenger door of his Audi for her. “You can borrow my car. I’ll get a rental.”
“That makes no sense.” She slid into the passenger side seat. “The insurance company might approve a rental for me since I’m the one without a vehicle, not you. Besides, getting permission to use the squad is easier and more cost-effective.”
Her stubbornness made him sigh. He could understand why she’d want to be strong in front of a jerk like Beck, but why not allow him to help? Despite the fact that he was no longer a surgeon, he was still earning a physician’s salary, which had to be more than triple hers.
The ride to her apartment was silent. Jeremy wondered if her head injury was worse than she’d let on. But when he walked her to her apartment door, she put a hand out to stop him from following her inside.
“Nope. You’re not sleeping on the sofa again. Go back to your family.” Her voice gentled. “You don’t get to see Jake very often, right? I promise I’ll call if I need anything.”
“But you shouldn’t be alone.”
“Nice try.” She went up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss that was over way too soon. “Good night, Jeremy.”
Before he could respond in kind, she slipped into the apartment and closed the door behind her. As he stood there, he heard the dead bolt slide home.
Turning away, Jeremy couldn’t figure out why he was so hung up on a woman who seemed determined to reject him.
The following morning, Trina overslept, which made her five minutes late for work.
Alex jumped up when he saw her, concern in his eyes. “Hey, I heard what happened. Are you okay?”
“I’m good. Anything new going on I need to know about?”
“No sign of the meth trailer, if that’s what you mean.” Alex looked annoyed. “I can’t believe we can’t find that stupid thing.”
“Yeah.” Last night, after Jeremy had left, she’d gone over every detail she could remember about the two attacks against her. The first one was obviously related to the meth lab trailer, but what about the second? She’d been coming back from Jemma and Garth’s wedding, why send her crashing into the woods? There was only one logical answer.
To make her death look like an accident.
It stunned her to realize that whoever was after her was escalating to the point they wanted her dead. Or at least injured badly enough that she’d be incapacitated for a long time. She really needed to learn who was financing the meth lab, because she knew, deep in her bones, she must be getting close.
Why else was the attacker escalating?
“Well, I’m heading home,” Alex said. “I worked for Kevin last night. Doug Carbine is already out on patrol, he’s taking the downtown area and giving you the outskirts. He figured it would be less active to be on the highways rather than dealing with the downtown tourists.”
She nodded. “Okay, thanks for letting me know. Get some sleep.”
Once she was alone in the main office area, if you didn’t count the dispatcher, Trina logged on and went to the DMV database. It was a clunky government system, more tailored to punching in license plates to get a registration rather than performing actual searches, but she managed to run a list of all licensee holders in Clark County.
From there, it was easy enough to download into a spreadsheet and to search by vehicle make and model. She was surprised to find so many different kinds of trucks, and there were far more than she anticipated.
But as she was scrolling through the list, one name caught her by surprise. Gregory Beck.
She sat back in her chair for a moment, thinking about Deputy Nathan Beck. She knew he had a younger brother, Greg, but finding out he owned a Black Ford pickup gave her pause.
A coincidence? Maybe.
Yet the more she thought about it, the more she couldn’t help but think it made sense in a sick sort of way. Who better to keep one step ahead of the police than to have a brother who was a Sheriff’s deputy? Even the timing of the first trailer move made sense. She’d arrested Eden, and once Nathan had heard the news, he’d put his brother on alert to move the trailer.
A pit of dread grew in her stomach. She’d always sensed Nathan didn’t like her, was this the reason
why? She’d made no secret of her brother’s addiction and her determination to put an end to the meth labs in the area.
She’d entertained some wild theories but never something like this.
Yet she couldn’t take this to Sheriff Donnelly. Not without something more than a deputy’s brother having a black truck like the one that had sent her skidding into a tree.
She turned her attention back to the list, determined to see if there were any other black truck owners who might be of interest. Another one caught her eye, Abe Crowley.
The same guy George had claimed would have information about the night Lucy Tate died.
By the time she finished with the list, she’d found a few other names, ones that only made things more complicated. Herb Miller drove a black Chevy and worked as the bar manager at Bombay. There were too many possibilities, any one of them could be involved with the meth lab.
Or none of them. It could be a dark gray truck, or even a navy blue or dark green truck. Or someone from any of the surrounding cities.
Her late-night idea seemed ridiculous in bright morning sunlight. Too many suspects and not enough clues to go on. She shut down the computer and rose to her feet. Time to get to work.
As she drove through the county, she found herself searching every car to see if it was a black truck. To distract her from her attempt to find something out of nothing, she decided to head over to the McNally Bay Boat Rental facility. It wouldn’t hurt to use the black truck hitting her as a way to talk to Abe Crowley.
It would be nice to move forward in at least one of her investigations. There was nothing worse than spinning in a circle and going nowhere.
Using her radio, she told dispatch she was heading downtown. Crowley’s boat rental was busy, she had to wait in line just to talk to the teenager manning the desk.
“Is Abe Crowley available?”
The teenager’s eyes raked over her uniform. “Is my dad in trouble?”