“No. I wasn’t drunk. It was the car. My brakes weren’t working.”
Ryan rose from the bank of the lake, looking at the broken limbs left behind by my car’s jump into the drink. “Are you sure?”
“I practically put my foot through the floorboard.”
“Were your brakes acting up before this?”
“No. I had no idea they weren’t working. Do you think I would have attempted the bridge knowing I had brakes that wouldn’t work?”
He came back to my side. “There seems to have been a rash of things going wrong around here.”
I shook my head at him. Here I was traumatized, just out of an automobile accident that could have ended my life, not to mention what the water was doing to my hair, and this idiot was making fun of me.
“You are the most insensitive man I’ve ever met. How could you attack me at a time like this? I just don’t get you. I love working with your father. He’s kind and caring and probably the best boss I’ve ever had. You, on the other hand, are the most arrogant, know-it-all, finger-pointing Neanderthal I’ve ever met.”
Ryan’s face flushed as he took in my string of insults. He lifted his chin as if I had just hit him with my best punch. He took in my bedraggled appearance and seemed to pull back a bit. “Okay. It’s just we live a pretty quiet life here. Now you’re here and we have dead cleaning ladies, and you’re running around doing your impression of the Long Island Medium.”
“I don’t care if you believe in what I can see or not. I never even asked you to believe me. Why would I? You have skeptic written all over you.” I stopped for a moment and took a breath. Then my glance fell on Ryan. “How do I know you didn’t do this?”
“Now who’s making false accusations?” he asked.
“Why were you out in the woods? Why? Answer the question.” He squared his jaw and stared at me. Had I frightened him or just made him furious?
“As far as why I was there that night … let’s just say I was meeting someone. It had nothing to do with Amelia.” He stood. “The police ought to be here soon. They can drive you home.” He returned to his vehicle and drove off toward Clarence’s house.
This man could make me so angry. I couldn’t stand the fact that if he hadn’t shown up I probably wouldn’t have survived. I sat on the edge of the road, ready to cry, when I remembered my phone was still in my pocket. I pulled it out, hoping the water hadn’t ruined it. My mother had insisted I buy a waterproof phone when I dropped mine at a pool party. I pushed the button on the side, and to my relief the welcome screen came on. I knew I should call Mitch and tell him what had just happened. The message from Gigi was still there. Okay, first I would read it and then call him. Gigi’s text was short.
Don’t get in your car. Water.
Chapter 24
As the Henry Park Police pulled my car from the lake a half hour later, I sat in the open doors of an ambulance. The paramedic asked, “Now, you’re sure we don’t need to send you to the hospital?”
I was all right. I was more than all right. I was on the road to being furious.
“Had you had any brake troubles before this?” Sheriff Bennett said, echoing Ryan Bradford.
“No. My brakes were fine,” I answered in a crisp tone.
“Follow me.” We walked over to the retrieved car, and Sheriff Bennett opened the hood. He pulled up a thick black wire. “Thought so. See how clean this break is? These brakes aren’t worn out. They’ve been cut. Most of the brake fluid was washed out in the water, but we still have this smooth ridge where someone cut them.”
“I knew it.”
“So, my next question is, who would do this to you?”
I had a pretty clear idea of who my culprit was but didn’t want the repercussions this could cause. If I told the sheriff, Darla would get questioned. It would look especially bad after the fight we just had.
“Miss? Are you listening to me?”
“Sorry, I was just weighing my options.”
The sheriff nodded his head slowly. “You Wolfes are having a heck of a time settling into our little community, I’ll tell you that.”
I rubbed my arms and glanced around. “I was on my way to see someone when this happened. I was coming up over the bridge, and then all of a sudden my foot sank to the floorboard when I pressed on the brake.”
He sighed. “I have a daughter just about your age. Tell you what—the boys have it under control here. What do you say I take you home?”
Mitch’s eyes widened after I walked in the house with the sheriff and then gave him a brief explanation of where my car was. “My gosh, Gabby, somebody tried to kill you.”
Sheriff Bennett nodded. “There was definitely evidence of tampering on your sister’s car.”
Mitch turned to me. “When was the last time you drove that car?”
I thought for a moment. “It was last night when I came home from working with Clarence.”
“And you never drove anywhere else? No running out for cigarettes?”
“Not this time.”
Sheriff Bennett shook his head. “If whoever cut your brake lines didn’t kill you, the cigarettes surely will.”
Mitch clasped his hands and paced the room. He turned back with a jolt. “So that means whoever cut your brake lines had to have done it this morning.”
“Or last night after she came home.” The sheriff added.
“You know Luigi was a little crazy this morning and wanted to go out. I just figured it was because he ate a bag of cheese puffs.”
“Sorry,” Mitch confessed. “Luigi loves junk food. He got hooked on it when I was playing Call of Duty.”
Nothing says guard dog like an orange-crusted tongue. “Now I’m wondering if it wasn’t the cheese puffs. Maybe Luigi was reacting to something outside.”
“Did anybody make a special visit to the house this morning?” Mitch asked.
I knew what I wanted to tell the sheriff next but didn’t dare. I had already made Darla furious with me pointing him in her direction once before, but there was no denying doing crazy things was her MO.
“Darla came over this morning.”
The sheriff’s eyes formed slits as he listened. “Darla Hobbs? Why would she be stopping by?”
I wondered if even the sheriff knew about the feud brewing between us. Accusing her of tampering with my brakes wouldn’t make it any better.
“She was angry with me for telling you to check her out. You must’ve just called her for questioning.”
“Well, dang. Darla’s been called but hasn’t come in to be interviewed yet. Seems like she would be more upset if she had actually been questioned and we found some reason to charge her.”
“I think,” Mitch said, “having a suspect who’s nervous and angry before they’ve even been questioned is a sure sign they have something to hide.”
The sheriff smiled. “Very astute of you, my boy. That’s precisely the case. The more fuss they make, the better the chance they have something going on.”
“It’s like a big puzzle, isn’t it? You have the crime, the suspects, the motive, and the alibis. You really have a fun job.”
“I like to think so. I don’t especially enjoy seeing people hurting people, but I do get a particular kind of satisfaction catching the bad guy.”
I thought of my sketchbook. I had been in such a hurry that I didn’t think to bring it before my ill-fated accident. Now I was thankful I’d forgotten it. It was safe and dry in the next room. Sheriff Bennett seemed a little more accepting today than he had been in the past. Should I show him my sketch or keep it to myself?
“So, would you consider the idea Amelia’s killer could have been a woman?”
The sheriff chewed his lower lip and stroked his chin. “Well, to be honest with you I suppose a woman or a man could have done what happened to Amelia.”
“That night I was in the woods I couldn’t tell if the person I heard was a man or a woman.”
“Didn’t you say it was Ryan?” Mitc
h asked.
“I’m just not sure now.”
Mitch snapped his fingers in a moment of epiphany. “There were two people in the woods that night with you. It’s the only way this can work. You ran into Ryan, but maybe there was somebody else there as well.”
“That’s an interesting theory, Mitch, we’ve been assuming there was only one killer,” Sheriff Bennett said.
I was sitting on evidence, but if I pulled out my sketchbook, the sheriff would think it was all made up in my head. I ran my fingers through my hair, which was now straggling into ringlets around my face.
“Thank you for driving me here, Sheriff,” I said, extending my hand.
“My pleasure. Will you be okay without your vehicle?’
“Sure. Mitch has a car, and maybe I can borrow something from Clarence until I get my insurance settlement back.”
“Good luck with that.” The sheriff tipped his hat and returned to his squad car.
I knew I had to trust someone, and for right now Gigi wasn’t around. Mitch had shown some brilliance earlier trying to figure out what happened to me the night I found the body. Maybe he could help with this. “Mitch, can I show you something?”
Ten minutes later we sat on the couch while Mitch examined my drawing. “It could be a woman. Whoever you drew, it’s either a woman or a delicate-looking man.”
He was right. The curve of the hips, the smallness of the shoulders. It could be a woman. There was a lightening in my shoulders. Something had changed between Mitch and me, something that had never been there before. Mitch believed in me. He believed in my visions.
Mitch studied the drawing from every angle. I had to ask. “So you don’t think I’m crazy?”
Mitch gave me a smile. “I never said that. I’ve been pretty sure you were crazy since you were six years old. But I do think … you have a gift. I just wish you would have shown me this stuff sooner.”
I stared at my sketch of the killer. Yes, I was sure now. It was a woman.
“It’s not something I’ve been able to control. I did something different with this drawing to focus on the details.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep on doing it. You’re almost an eyewitness to murder, and that makes you the only witness to Amelia’s death … except for the killer.”
Chapter 25
When Clarence called wanting to work that night and then offered the loan of his pickup, I couldn’t refuse. The only problem was the truck was a stick shift. I hadn’t driven a vehicle like that in years, and I just hoped I could get it back home. I had an old boyfriend who tried to teach me how to drive a standard transmission, and just as I started to get the hang of it, we broke up. It was probably the only good thing I got out of that relationship. Still, though, I was pretty sure I could remember his instructions. First clutch, then gas, then shift—or something like that.
“I’m just glad you came out of all of this unhurt,” Clarence said as we worked through passages in his book later that evening.
“You and me both, Clarence.”
“Thank goodness Ryan saw the whole thing and got there in time to save you.”
Just the mention of his name rankled my resolve. “Yes,” I said, not too convincingly. “Thank goodness for Ryan.”
Clarence turned his gaze upon me. “Okay, now this time, say it like you mean it.”
I smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful Ryan showed up to save my life. But then right after he rescued me, he asked me if I had been drinking. Good grief, I had just come out of a near-death experience.”
“That kid. I certainly hope you gave it to him good for what he said.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I did. I’ve never been one to hold back, especially when it comes to your son.”
Clarence smiled. “Good for you, Gabby. One thing about my son, he thinks he has all the answers. All the right answers, I might add. It’s been a long time since someone has come along and questioned his imperial judgment. It’s a healthy thing for that young man, I can assure you.”
Clarence’s words warmed my heart, but there was one thing that bothered me. “Clarence, if you felt like we were such a successful team, why didn’t you stick up for me if you knew what Ryan was doing?”
Clarence took a moment and stroked his chin. “I suppose that’s a legitimate concern you might have. When my publisher of thirty years decided to cut me, it was a great blow to my ego. Then my illustrator died. I guess I suddenly realized everything I had was gone. So maybe I leaned on Ryan a little more than I should have. When he raised questions about you, I deferred to his judgment. But I have to tell you, since we’ve been working together I feel stronger. I feel like this book is getting me back on track.”
“Good.”
“Publishing a book is fine and good, but the actual love for me is the writing of it. This is the part I enjoy the most, and with your artwork, it is all coming alive for me again. I have you to thank for that, and if my blockhead of a son can’t figure it out, then it’s his problem. Next time he talks to me about letting you go, I’ll shut him down.”
An incredible relief filled me. Clarence continued talking about his ideas for our next book when his voice started to sound hollow as if he was speaking to me from a long way away.
“Help me …” I saw Amelia’s hand extended, trying to grab my own. “Please, you have to help me …”
“So, what do you think? Do you like that idea?” Clarence placed his hand on my shoulder.
“What?”
“I asked what you thought about an Alaskan adventure.”
I tried to pull it together as if I had been listening to him all along. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.
“Sounds great. Snow is pretty easy to draw. Lots of white space.”
Clarence started to speak again but then stopped and stared into my eyes. “Is everything okay in there? This universe and the next?”
I tried to laugh convincingly. “Just fine. Alaska sounds great. Hey, listen, I’m beat. I think I’ll call it a day if it’s okay with you. I just want to finish this drawing.”
“Think I’ll do the same.” Clarence shut down his computer, but I continued working. If I left a drawing in the middle I might not be able to find my way back into the task. Clarence patted me on the shoulder. “Sleep well, Gabby. Lock up when you leave.”
I only hoped I could sleep well. It was as if Amelia was calling to me from the other side. She wasn’t finished with me yet. I felt my eyelids growing heavy and fell asleep.
I woke up three hours later, just as the sky was filling with morning light. I gathered my things and borrowed keys and headed out into the chilly dawn. Starting the pickup and putting it in first was relatively easy, with only a little gear grinding. The truck groaned, seeming to pair with Amelia’s cries still echoing in my ear. I started accelerating toward the bridge. The hole in the trees my car had made earlier was now barely noticeable. I tried to shift to second gear, but for some reason I couldn’t coordinate the clutch with the gearshift. The truck died on me and came to a stop. Trying to restart the little truck felt futile because the engine now gave me a repeated clicking and then started into a metal whining sound. I sat for a moment, trying not to panic. The sun was just coming up over the horizon. I could try to call Mitch on my cell, or I could grab my stuff and walk home. It couldn’t be far. Somewhere between two and ten miles maybe. I was never good at estimating distance. I pulled my sketchpad out of my bag. Before doing anything else, I needed to take a minute and deal with Amelia, both in my ears and my mind. I tried to see the lake again, to return to that night by closing my eyes. Instantly there was a smell I hadn’t realized before this. The sound of the feet in the brush and the feeling of panic returned. The woods felt so solitary, alone, and abandoned. Yet the darkness was filled with shapes and shadows dancing around the trees.
The sound of footsteps seemed to be coming closer and closer, the killer knew where I was. She knew my hiding place. I breathed in, desperately trying to
get out before I was caught. The trees started disappearing and then I realized the sound I was hearing was outside of the vision. A runner, out for an early morning jog, came toward me. As she drew closer, I realized it was Darla. Who else would be wearing an entirely black running suit? Where did she shop, Morticia’s Hideaway Boutique?
Bathed in the first rays of morning light, I put the sketchpad down and tried the car again only to find I was flooding it. In my eagerness to get home, I had flooded Clarence’s pickup. I really didn’t feel like engaging in a battle with Darla without the proper caffeine and endurance gained from a good night’s sleep.
Desperate, I turned off my lights and hoped she wouldn’t look into the truck. It could work, maybe. Unfortunately, she slowed as she came closer. She cupped her hand on the window to see inside.
“Clarence? Are you all right?” Darn. I forgot I was driving Clarence’s truck. She thought this was him stranded by the side of the road. I rolled down the window.
“It’s not Clarence. Hi, Darla.”
She recoiled as if she had just come upon a cockroach in the middle of her buttercream cake.
“What are you doing in Clarence’s truck? Does he know you have it and you’ve apparently caused it to break down?”
“Give it a break, Darla. Seriously? You think I would steal Clarence’s truck?”
“Why not? It’s bad enough you let the police loose on me for some mechanical problem with your car, but now you have to wreck another?”
This woman was outrageous. “Some mechanical problem” was a gross understatement, and I was quickly losing what I had left of my patience. I turned the key in the ignition once more, but once again, it wouldn’t start up. I was trapped with Darla’s sharp tongue coming at me.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. Our little meeting slipped my mind when I found my brake lines cut. Would you have anything to do with that? Listen, Darla, why don’t you just move along? I’m sure you’ve lost your target heart rate by now. Oh, never mind. I forgot you don’t have a heart.”
Color Me Dead (Henry Park Book 1) Page 13