Chapter Twenty-Four
Savanna moved in slow motion, unbuckling her seat belt, then reaching over and unbuckling Sydney’s. In the aftermath of the crash, the air was still and silent, and she felt as if she was moving underwater.
Sydney stared at her, wide-eyed. “We’re okay.”
Savanna nodded. “I think so. We’re okay.” The entire front end of her car was smashed, compressed, the steering wheel pressing on her stomach. The enormous maple tree they’d hit towered over the car, and a branch had shattered the windshield. Her car was smoking. From under the collapsed hood, a trail of smoke rose into the air like a signal fire.
“Get out. We have to get out.” Savanna reached across Sydney and pulled on the door handle, but nothing moved. She went to reach for her own door handle with her left hand and yelped the moment she tried to move her arm. It looked fine. But oh holy cow, it hurt.
She looked to her right to find Sydney climbing over into the back seat. She got the back door open and half crawled, half fell out of the car. When she made it around to the driver’s side, she was limping, her face twisted in pain.
Syd tugged on Savanna’s door, but it wouldn’t give. “Can you push? Or kick it?”
Savanna cradled her left arm with her uninjured one, tipping her body sideways onto the front seat where Sydney had just been, and kicked the door with both feet. Hard. It opened.
Sydney pulled her out of the car, the two of them moving a good distance away in the grassy ditch that butted up to the tree line.
“You’re limping. Let me see.”
Sydney stretched her legs out in front of her, skin bare from her shorts to her sandals. Her left ankle was already puffing up. “Ugh. That’s ugly. It better only be sprained—I’m running the yoga booth all week for your festival.” She frowned, touching the ankle gingerly.
Everything she’d just said sounded ridiculous to Savanna’s ears. She giggled softly, then stopped, staring at her sister. Then she burst out laughing. “It better just be sprained, I’ve got yoga,” she repeated, struggling to get the words out between guffaws, copying Syd. “Look.” she pointed to her car, which was now billowing smoke.
Sydney joined her, laughing, lying back onto the hill where they sat. “What the heck,” she gasped. “What the heck happened?”
Savanna wiped her eyes, getting her outburst under control. She had zero answers. “Do we need to move back more? What if it blows up?”
“I think we’re okay. We’re pretty far. I think that only happens in movies,” Syd said, sitting up. “Let me see your arm,” she said, turning to face her.
Savanna still had her painful left arm cradled with her right one, right hand cupping her left elbow. “My wrist hurts.” She tried wiggling the fingers on her left hand and cringed. “And it’s worse when I move the hand.”
“Keep it still. It’s probably broken.”
“But I have yoga!” Savanna wailed, making them both laugh again.
Sydney hugged her suddenly. “I’m glad we’re okay. Oh, no. Your car. Don’t look.”
Savanna looked. Orange flames were now snaking out from under the left front area of the hood.
“Hello! Are you all right?” A man was approaching them from the road, heading carefully down the slope. “Can you move? I’ve called 911.”
Sydney was apparently right about cars only exploding in movies. While they were both being assessed and helped into the back of the ambulance, the front of Savanna’s car had turned into a full-on bonfire. Emergency response workers were able to extinguish it quickly, leaving it a blackened, smoking mess.
Neither of them protested being taken to the hospital. In the back of the ambulance, Savanna startled as her leg vibrated. She unbuttoned the thigh pocket of her cropped cargo pants and pulled out her phone. “I still have my phone!” Aidan was calling.
“Mine’s in your car,” Sydney said sadly.
She answered, putting it to her ear. “You have really weird timing.” She told him what had just happened, making sure to start with the fact that she and Sydney were both fine.
“Why are you in an ambulance if you’re fine? I should be there. They’ll take you to Anderson, it’s closest. Man, I should be there!” His distress was clear through the phone.
“We’re really okay. Sydney’s ankle is banged up, and so’s my arm, but that’s all. I don’t get it. The brakes just wouldn’t work. At all.” Savanna had the image of that slow roll through the stop sign on the way to Yvonne’s. What if someone had tampered with her brakes? What if the person who’d slashed her tires was getting serious? She and Sydney could’ve been killed just now.
“That’s strange. Have you noticed they’ve been going?”
She started to answer; it was the only thing that made sense. But they must be nearing town, the ambulance now filled with the loud scream of the siren.
She pulled the phone away from her ear, unable to hear anything but the wailing above and around her. She hit the red hang-up button; it was useless. She’d text him once she and Sydney got checked out and released. Maybe an officer would come talk to them; if not, she had to tell Detective Jordan about her suspicions.
The paramedic in the back of the ambulance with them ran another vital sign check, jotting down results on two pages on his clipboard. He used a pen light to assess both their pupils, and then moved to the foot of their gurneys and gently touched Sydney’s swollen foot and ankle, explaining that her peripheral pulses were fine.
Five minutes later, they were settled side by side on emergency room beds, surrounded by a privacy curtain. Their paramedic handed off a report to the nurse, a clean-cut man in blue scrubs bearing a name badge that read Andy, R.N., C.E.N. The nurse repeated his own assessment and informed them he’d be back with pain medicine as soon as the doctor saw them.
“Do we have to call Mom and Dad?” Savanna turned her head to the left, looking at Sydney. “Or maybe just Skylar?”
“Aidan already called your sister,” a deep voice said. A hand pulled the curtain aside, and Finn entered their little holding room.
Sydney’s face lit up. Finn closed the ten feet between them, bending to hug her, and she wrapped her arms around him. She squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face into his neck, her shoulders shaking with sudden sobs as the events of the day caught up to her.
Finn held her, not letting go. “You scared me,” he murmured into her hair.
Savanna looked away, feeling like she was intruding. Her throat was suddenly congested, her eyes hot, and she wished fiercely that Aidan was here. She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He couldn’t be, but he’d immediately called Finn to come.
Sydney let go, swiping at her eyes.
Finn straightened, standing between them and looking from Syd to Savanna. “You’re really all right? Can I do anything?”
Savanna shook her head. “We’re just glad you came.”
Finn stepped outside the curtain and dragged a chair into their room, pulling it up between their beds. His cuffed, dark denim jeans contrasted with his gray V-necked shirt. He reached out and took Sydney’s hand in his, resting his on her bed, while he addressed Savanna. “I stopped in the ambulance bay on the way in and talked to your paramedics. That was some crazy-good Nascar driving you did, from how the crash looked. I can’t believe all you hit was that tree.”
“How did you—?”
“Oh.” Finn nodded, understanding. “Didn’t I mention I’m your very concerned brother who needs all the details? Sounds like your brakes went out. Did you know they were going?”
Savanna shook her head. “They weren’t going. I just had the brakes done last fall, so they should’ve been fine. I think someone tampered with my car. Remember—” she looked at Sydney, “—when I rolled through that stop sign today? I didn’t mean to. My brakes felt soft but I didn’t think anything of it. When we came up on that
light at Blue Heron Way, I had no brakes at all. Nothing.”
“The brake lines,” Finn answered. “If someone cut—not even cut, but just made a small hole—in your brake line, the car would make it through a few stops before the brakes went.”
“I drove it from here, after seeing Yvonne upstairs, to Fancy Tails to grab Sydney, and then out toward Yvonne’s house. I probably stopped a total of three or four times.”
“It makes sense. So who wants you dead? Or at least out of commission?” Finn asked.
Savanna frowned. “Maybe the answer to that is in when someone tampered with my brakes. It had to have been done today, right? You said the car would’ve made it through a few stops. What if it happened right here, while I was visiting Yvonne? Someone didn’t want me to get those files from her place.” She instantly thought of the cop stationed outside Yvonne’s door. Could he have heard their conversation? She shivered involuntarily. She didn’t want to even consider a police officer being mixed up in something this awful.
The emergency room doctor came around the curtain just then. Finn stepped out, giving them privacy. The doctor checked them each over thoroughly, determining their injuries were exactly where they described and nowhere else. “Someone will come take you to x-ray shortly. Your arm,” he said to Savanna. “And your leg. No group discounts, sorry,” he deadpanned. “Do we need something for the pain?”
“Yes,” Savanna said. “Please.”
Sydney declined.
When Finn came back in, Skylar was with him.
“Oh my God.” She moved between their beds, hugging Savanna and then Sydney. “I saw the pictures. You two…you’re lucky to be here.”
Finn moved the chair closer to her, motioning for her to sit. “Please.”
Nurse Andy entered, handing Savanna two pills in a little cup, followed by hospital-issue apple juice and graham crackers. The nurse turned and set juice and crackers on Sydney’s table, hesitating. “Ms. Shepherd, you might have a broken ankle. X-ray will be uncomfortable, and so will anything we have to do after that. Are you sure you don’t want something for pain?”
“She does,” Finn said, frowning at Sydney. “There’s no need for you to be in pain.”
“I do not,” she said firmly. “I actually don’t feel too bad. I promise. I’ll let you know if I change my mind,” she told the nurse, and he nodded and left.
Finn leaned against the wall, his arms folded across his chest. “By the time you realize you need something, it’s not going to help.”
“Possibly. I’ll take that chance.” She held a hand out to him and he took it. “I’m okay right now. Finn, have you met Skylar yet?”
“We met in the hallway,” their sister said. “He explained about your brake lines. I called Jordan, and he’s having his forensics team go over your car as soon as it’s brought in. He’s on his way here to talk to both of you directly.”
Waiting for X-ray seemed to take forever. Savanna filled Skylar in on what she and Sydney had been trying to do, after first listening to an in-depth lecture from her older sister about total disregard for safety and lack of common sense. She tried to defend herself. “I notified Detective Jordan where we were going, I didn’t go alone, and even if I had, there was no reason to think it’d be dangerous. I figured if anyone knew about the file Yvonne was going to give Mayor Greenwood, they’d have already taken it.”
By the time they’d learned that Sydney’s bad sprain could be treated with a walking boot and rest, and Savanna had returned from having a bright-pink cast applied for her fractured left forearm, Detective Jordan had joined the small group in the room.
Skylar stood. “All right. Listen, ladies, and no arguments. I’m heading to Mom and Dad’s to tell them you’re both fine, and then let them know what happened. This is going to freak them out too much over the phone. Savanna, Jordan has information for you. I can be back here in an hour, unless you’re both discharged before then.”
“I’m staying,” Finn spoke up. “I’ve got Mollie spending the night with her grandparents. I’ll bring them home; they’ll be done here soon.”
“Sky, listen to him,” Sydney said. “Go talk to Mom and Dad and then please, go home. You need rest, and Nolan needs you. It’s getting late.”
Skylar looked at Savanna.
“You know she’s right. Go.” She held out her good arm, giving her older sister a quick hug.
She sighed. “Text me when you’re home. Promise.”
When she’d gone, Detective Jordan took her vacated chair, pulling his notepad from inside his jacket and flipping through it. “We need to go through the details of your accident. That can be now or tomorrow at the station. You’ve both had a long day.”
Savanna and Sydney exchanged a look.
“Tomorrow, please,” Savanna said. “We’ll come in the morning.”
“Come whenever you’re up to it, or I can come to you,” Detective Jordan said. “Let me know. Now, from what you told me of your conversation with Yvonne Marchand today, the morning she was found pushed down her basement stairs, she’d left the information Roger Greenwood wanted on the front seat of her car. I spoke with her while you were in x-ray. Her memory is patchy, but she backed all of that up. She said she was about to leave for work, but she ran back inside to feed the cat or something. The front seat of her car is empty. My partner got there to check it out not even an hour after your crash.”
“No! Someone got to them.” She groaned in frustration. “It was a folder of information John had been compiling. Yvonne thought the mayor was changing his mind about endorsing the Better Living proposal, but I’m sure he wasn’t. We’re thinking he was financially benefitting—”
“All right,” Detective Jordan put a hand up, stopping her. “Skylar told me about your theory, so I looked into it. Neither Roger Greenwood nor Landon King are shareholders in Better Living. But listen. I’ve got the files you wanted that were stolen from Yvonne Marchand’s car.” He held up the cell phone Savanna had handed Yvonne earlier that day, the purple tassel and cat charm hanging off the corner.
“Yvonne’s phone? How? She said she scanned them. She meant in her phone? Oh, jeez.” She smacked her right palm to her forehead. She’d had her hands on the files hours ago and hadn’t known it.
“Take a look,” Nick Jordan said, tapping the screen a few times and handing her the phone. “Scroll through. The councilman wasn’t compiling facts proving Better Living was going to hurt Carson. He had screenshots of transactions. You were right. Greenwood and Landon King were being handsomely paid off by Better Living Properties.” He sat back and waited.
Savanna swiped through, stopping to zoom in on several spots. She sucked in her breath. “What— Each of these shows money being sent in the NowFunds app. They originate here; I don’t recognize this name. Then that amount…is sent to Greenwood, and one day later, from Greenwood to King. Since when?” She continued through, answering her own question. “Since last November. We were right,” she said, looking at Sydney then Detective Jordan.
“What does that mean?” Sydney asked. “Better Living was giving money to Roger Greenwood so he’d push the proposal?”
“And Greenwood was paying Landon King to bombard the Allegan County population with nothing but a glowing view of the boardwalk development,” Savanna finished. “They used one of those fast-cash apps so it wouldn’t link to their own bank accounts, but John Bellamy knew. He had proof.” She waved the phone in her hand and then gave it back to the detective.
Detective Jordan stood. “That’s what it looks like.”
Savanna’s mind was racing. “John’s no longer a threat, but Greenwood must’ve suspected he had proof. That’s why he tried to use Yvonne to get John’s files—the only real proof of what he and Landon King were up to. He must’ve asked her more than once. Yvonne said she’d forgotten to bring the papers the day before. Oh! That argument ou
tside Carson Ballroom! John was so aggressive with the mayor. It was never about golf!”
Detective Jordan nodded. “The theory is that John Bellamy confronted Roger Greenwood, either in an attempt to get in on the money being funneled from Better Living, or—”
Savanna jumped in. “No. He would’ve tried to force Greenwood to come clean. John was staunchly opposed to the proposal, plus if he got Greenwood to confess, the election would’ve been his. He must’ve threatened to expose the mayor and Landon King. He had the proof.”
“Right. That seems most likely.”
“So Roger Greenwood knew he had to do something. Get rid of John, or lose his office and his extra income.” Savanna frowned. “But what about my brakes? I’d just learned from Yvonne about the files she was going to give the mayor. We’re thinking someone raced to Yvonne’s and beat us to the files, right? Taking steps to make sure I never got there?”
“This is tough for me.” Detective Jordan scrubbed a hand through his hair. “One of my officers has gotten involved in this, pulled in by Roger Greenwood or the reporter. We’ve moved Ms. Marchand to a different room, with Detective Taylor stationed outside for now. When I got your voicemail, and then learned what happened to your car, we swept your friend’s hospital room and found two hidden listening devices. One of my officers had to have been paid off to plant them. I will find out who it was,” Detective Jordan vowed, his tone restrained but furious.
He went on. “Greenwood and King are being picked up as we speak. I’m not dealing with them tonight; they can sit in holding cells until morning. I have to go through all of this with the prosecutor, make sure we have our ducks are in a row; it needs to be airtight. By the time we formally charge them, we’ll have confirmation of Greenwood’s fingerprints on Bellamy’s cellar door, and possibly even on your brake lines if we’re lucky.”
Behind the Frame Page 26