by Ann Simas
“Since it’s on his calendar, I guess not.” She made a sound of self-disgust. “I can’t believe I wasn’t paying more attention to that deal. It was so important to Clem.”
“Did you see anything else between now and Monday that you found odd?”
“Since you mention it, yes. The deacon dinner. Clem told me he was done with the deacons last time he went.”
“When was that?”
“Last summer.”
Andi mulled that over. “Any contacts you can make at the church to inquire about it?”
“Sure. I’ve known the church secretary since forever. She used to babysit me and she loves to gossip. I’ll see what I can find out.”
They said goodbye and Andi went back to work. She planned to give Bunnicula to Brent by end-of-day on Friday. In order to meet her schedule, she’d have to haul ass.
. . .
Andi’s phone rang just before five. It was Denise.
“I just talked to Clara. She’s the secretary at our church. She said there isn’t any deacon dinner scheduled for tomorrow night, and if there was, Clem wouldn’t be going because he’s not a deacon any longer.”
“Which agrees with what you told me. Do you have his iPhone handy?”
“In my hand. I’m pulling up his calendar now.” A minute later, she said, “Hmm.”
“Is that a good hmm, or a bad hmm?”
“Depends. His personal calendar also says Deacon dinner.”
Andi’s brain whirred with possibilities. “Is Deacon capitalized there, as well?”
“Yes.”
“Do know anyone with the last name of Deacon? Or do you know if Clem did?”
“No, I…wait a minute!” She dropped the phone and Andi could hear her shuffling papers, opening and closing drawers. “Got it!”
“Got what?”
“The church membership directory. Deacon, Seth and Marianne.”
“Do you know them?”
“Only in passing. We see them at church and occasionally at a social function. Once in a while, I run into Marianne at the hair salon. Their kids are much older, although I think one is still in college, so we don’t have a lot in common with them.” She sucked in a breath. “Oh, God, Andi, how long is it going to take me to stop saying we and start saying I?”
“I wish I could tell you, Denise,” Andi said gently, “but I don’t know. They say time heals everything.” She felt foolish for the rather inane utterance, but she didn’t know how else to respond.
Denise laughed with no humor. “Guess I’m shit out of luck in the time department.”
“Don’t be so pessimistic,” Andi shot back.
“You’d feel the same way if you were in my shoes.”
Andi almost told her about the reticle photo on her door, but held back. Denise didn’t need to know her troubles.
“You know, Andi, now that I think about it, this is really peculiar. Why would Clem be having dinner with the Deacons without telling me?”
“That I don’t know, but I’m going to do some research on them as soon as I get home. I’m headed there now. I’ll call you when and if I find something.”
After she hung up, she texted Jack and asked if he could do a CHC—criminal history check—on someone who might be related to the Naylor case.
Andi’s cupboards were almost bare and she couldn’t face another scrambled egg or bowl of cereal for dinner. She took a short detour and veered into a fast food drive-thru to pick up a hamburger, fries, and cookies on her way home.
While she waited at the window for her order, Jack’s reply came back, sure. She responded with the Deacons’ names and added explain later at the end of her message. Before she had a chance to hit SEND, the kid at the window handed over her soda and a sack. The impatient jerk behind her in his raised-body Tacoma honked immediately, earning Andi’s middle finger in response. He probably couldn’t see it, but it made her feel better. She inched ahead slowly, just to be perverse.
Back on the road, she munched on fries as she drove, which was why she didn’t have both hands on the steering wheel when the car behind her rammed the rear of her vehicle. The wheel jerked from Andi’s grasp and her VW Touareg went barreling off the side of the road, up over the curb, and into the brick face of the Wells Fargo Bank building.
The seatbelt tightened painfully against her chest and every airbag in the vehicle deployed. Dazed and knocked breathless, Andi couldn’t think for a moment. The airbags began to deflate instantly. Her breath returned, though it wasn’t anything nice and steady like she was used to. For a moment, she couldn’t even tell exactly where she hurt, or if she even did.
Traffic in the roadway came to a complete standstill. Drivers poured out of other vehicles, rushing to her aid. Some had their cell phones out, probably calling 911. Andi noticed it all peripherally, thankful that the airbags had shrunk, easing the pressure against her chest. She sucked in a deep breath, which seemed to rattle her lungs.
Someone wrenched open her door. “You need to get out,” the man shouted. “Your gas tank is leaking.”
Still shaken and slightly muzzy, she didn’t quite register his words.
“Lady, your gas tank ruptured. You need to get out of the vehicle.” He reached over her to undo the seatbelt. “Shit, stuck!”
“Anybody got a knife?” someone else yelled. “We need to cut the seatbelt.”
“Here,” another voice said.
The first man reached across her and a moment later, Andi felt herself being released from the restrictive constraint of the seatbelt.
“Be careful, she may have injuries,” another man said as two people helped her from her vehicle.
“Purse,” she managed to get out.
“Got it,” a woman’s voice assured her.
They moved Andi quickly away from the crash site and settled her on the lawn. She registered that the ground was damp, but at the moment, all she cared about was that she was alive.
“Thank you,” she said to the two men and one woman who had stopped to help her.
“Not a problem,” said the older gentleman. “I hear a siren now. The EMTs will get you fixed up in no time.”
The first emergency responder to arrive was a fire truck. Once the firefighters determined Andi was alive and not critically injured, they handed her over to the EMTs, who pulled up in the ambulance, and turned their focus on the gasoline leak.
The EMTs almost seemed baffled that Andi didn’t have any visible injuries. She wasn’t bleeding anywhere, had no visible bumps, and didn’t appear to have any broken bones. They asked her name and she gave it to them. “You should go to the ER for a more comprehensive exam, ma’am. You may have internal injuries that we can’t see.”
Andi could barely think straight, let alone make a decision about going or not going to the ER. She gave the EMT a puzzled look, trying to sort things out. In the distance, more sirens wailed their approach. Cops. She needed to tell the cops someone had hit her!
“It’s for your own well-being,” the other EMT went on, misinterpreting her silence for refusal. “Just because you’re not bleeding, doesn’t mean you’re not injured.”
Andi nodded her agreement. She wasn’t opposed to having a doctor check her over, even though she didn’t hurt, but she was still somewhat confused. Someone had hit her. “Okay, but can you call Jack Harmon? He’s a detective at EPD. Ask him to meet me at the hospital?”
A patrol officer leaned over the EMT’s shoulder. “I know him. I’ll get hold of him.”
Andi stared at her vehicle, still having difficulty comprehending everything that was going on. The Touareg wasn’t even a year old yet and now look at it. Still more than four years left to pay on the loan and it was completely smashed in, front and back. It looked like an over-sized accordion.
“Jesus, Andi! What the hell happened?”
She refocused her attention on the firefighter looming over her. “Dell?”
Her brother dropped down to his knees.
“You know her?” the EMT asked.
“Hell, yes. She’s my sister.”
The older gentleman who’d helped her put his hand on Dell’s shoulder. “Son, someone deliberately rammed the back of your sister’s vehicle. We all saw it. The other car deliberately ran her off the road and then it took off like a bat out of hell.”
Everything became crystal clear in that moment. The crash had not been just a little fender-bender attributable to a tail-gaiting driver’s inattention. Whoever had been driving the other car had hit her with enough force to crumple the entire rear end of her VW.
Someone had just tried to kill her.
. . .
Andi got a thorough going-over in the ER. She even saw some familiar faces, having been a patient there the day she’d brought down Sherry Hemmer’s killer.
The doctor sent her for X-rays and a CAT scan and afterward, he pushed and poked and prodded and listened and studied, but he couldn’t find anything wrong with her. “You may have a large bruise on your chest tomorrow from the seatbelt.” He had a slight frown on his face. “You can go ahead and get out of the gown and back into your clothes. Do you want some assistance from the nurse?”
“No, thanks. I think I can handle it.”
“You’ll need to take it easy for a while.” His frown deepened. “I want you back here immediately if you feel unusual in any way.”
Andi couldn’t imagine experiencing any delayed injuries, but she assured him she would do as instructed.
“I’ll have an aide walk you out. Stay put until he gets here.” He frowned. “Do you have someone you can call to come get you?”
“I’m pretty sure my brother and my boyfriend are both out in the waiting area.”
“I’ll go check. Give me their names.”
Andi rattled them off.
“If they’re not there, call one of them to come and get you. No taking a cab home, okay?”
She nodded and thanked him. Once dressed, she settled into the chair beside the gurney to wait for the ER aide.
On her way to the waiting area, she overheard the doctor murmur to the nurse, “I’ve never seen anything like it. Not a scratch or a bump on her anywhere and the EMTs said her car looked like an giant bellows.”
Andi wondered if her good fortune had anything to do with the five words she’d uttered just before she hit the wall: Guardian angel, please help me.
. . .
Jack was waiting in the ER with Dell. They jumped up the moment she came through the doorway. Both tall men, with powerful builds and long-legged strides, they reached her in moments.
“You really okay, Andi?” Dell asked.
“The doc came out and told us you weren’t hurt anywhere. Was he B.S.-ing us?” Jack asked.
“Yes and no, to answer your questions respectively,” she said. “Can we get out of here, or is there more paperwork I have to take care of?”
Dell placed a hand gently against the side of her head. “No, you’re good, kid. I have your purse and gave them all your insurance information.”
“Good, let’s hit the road.”
“You need to give a statement to the police,” Jack said. “Do you want to do it here or at home?”
“Home, definitely.”
“Will you be able to walk up the stairs?”
“Yes, and I’d prove it to you right now, if there were any steps in the ER.” She sighed. “The doc told me to take it easy, so I will.”
Her brother grinned. “Right. I know how much you like to follow instructions.”
Jack feigned a look of disbelief. “She does?”
Dell snorted a laugh.
“You two are hysterical. You should take it on the road.”
Outside, Jack helped her into his Tacoma. Dell handed over her purse. “Your car’s totaled, Andi.”
“I figured, when I saw that what’s left of it looks like an accordion.”
“You’re lucky to be alive,” he said, his expression solemn.
“Yeah, and please, don’t tell Mom and Dad. They’ll freak and won’t believe I don’t have a mark on me. I’ll go over in person tomorrow and fill them in.” She shook her finger at him. “Promise me.”
He grumbled under his breath.
“I mean it, Dell. Promise me. Seeing is believing and they’ll be on pins and needles if they can’t see me for themselves.”
“Okay, I promise, but I’m helping Dad with some yard stuff on Saturday.” One of his eyebrows shot up. “If I find out that you didn’t tell them, you’re busted, little sister.” He glanced at Jack, then back at her. “Since you’re in good hands, I’m going to get back to the firehouse. I’ll check on you tomorrow, okay?”
He gave her a gentle hug and took off. With only three long strides separating them, he turned back. “Some kind of miracle happened to you tonight, Andi.”
“I know,” she said, her voice almost reverent. Then she shot him a smile meant to assure. “You’d better get going before your captain sends out a search party.”
Dell flashed her a return smile with a quick nod, then turned and loped for his truck.
Jack remained by the open door, staring at her. “Miracle. I suppose that describes it. The doctor almost seemed…I don’t know, baffled because you don’t have an injury anywhere that he or the X-rays could find.” He put his hand against her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “You’re really okay?”
“I really am.” She shivered. “But I’m cold and hungry. My dinner was in the car.”
“We’ll stop and get you something, but Andi…I’m not sure you should go home.”
Andi wasn’t sure, either. First the picture on her door and then being forced off the road and into a building. Someone apparently did have it out for her. “I could stay at your place, but I don’t have any clothes or anything with me.”
“We’ll swing my by place and I’ll grab some of my stuff. You’ll need a ride to work in the morning, anyway.” He frowned.
Reading his mind like it was an open book, she lifted a hand and caressed the side of his face. “Thank you for not saying I have to stay home tomorrow.”
The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk. “Like it would do any damned good if I did.”
He buckled her in, closed the door, and walked around to the driver’s side.
By the time they got to the Safeway, the cab of the truck was toasty warm. Jack left the motor running and the radio on while he went inside to the deli. Five minutes later, he was back with fried chicken, ambrosia salad, potato salad, and chips.
Hungry as she’d thought she was earlier, Andi could only down one chicken leg and a little ambrosia. An instant replay of the crash kept rolling through her mind. She shifted in her chair at the table. “It had to be whoever put the picture on my door.”
“That’s my guess.”
“Will someone come tonight to take my statement?”
“Yes. Better to get it while it’s still fresh in your mind.”
“That’s the problem,” she murmured. “It feels like it’s going to be stuck there on instant replay forever.”
. . .
Patrol Officer Quentin Stark interviewed Andi. “So far, every witness corroborates your story, right down to the gender of the driver.”
“I don’t even know how I could tell it was a man,” she said. “Everything happened so fast.”
“We got lucky with the witnesses. Plenty of other people noticed and they were all in agreement as to the events. It doesn’t sound like the guy behind you at the drive-thru is responsible.”
“His headlights were definitely blinding me in the drive-thru,” Andi said. “I’m sure I would have noticed if he’d been behind me.”
“Whoever it was, he must have followed you from work,” Jack said. “It seems unlikely he would have coincidentally encountered you in traffic.”
Andi agreed. “I varied my route home tonight because I got something at a drive-thru for dinner.”
“He picked what he though
t was the opportune moment to ram you.”
Andi shuddered.
“Anything else you can remember?” the Officer Stark asked.
Jack told him about the picture left on Andi’s door.
“I’ll be sure and make a copy of that file and include it with this,” the officer said. He stood. “I’m real glad you weren’t seriously injured, Andi.”
“Thank you. Me, too.”
Jack walked Stark to the door, then came back and dropped down next to Andi on the sofa, sliding his arm around her as he settled in. “Feel like talking?”
“I do, but I can’t quite gather my thoughts. It’s weird, knowing someone wants to hurt me.” She let loose a warbly sigh. “It was bad enough with the reticle photo, but this….”
“What worries me is that he wanted to do a little more than hurt you,” Jack said, his voice as grim as Andi had ever heard it, confirming her earlier thought that someone wanted her dead.
She leaned her head against his chest. “How does Denise take it so calmly?”
“I’ve been wondering that myself. I talked it over with the LT and she says that’s just the kind of woman Denise is. She remains calm through an ordeal and falls to pieces afterward.”
“A good woman to have around in a crisis,” Andi said, “and if anyone would know, Stacy would. She’s known Denise forever.” She nibbled on her lower lip. “Speaking of Denise, she sent me Clem’s personal calendar today and we compared it to his business calendar. He had something listed on both that he noted as ‘Deacon dinner.’ Since it was capitalized, I thought it might be a person, especially since she said he’d resigned a while back being a deacon in his church.”
“And?”
“Denise thinks it might be a couple from their congregation, but she couldn’t fathom why he’d be having dinner with them, especially without her. I told her I’d do some research on them. I guess I should, or at least call and tell her I’m slightly out of commission.”
“Tell you what, if you want to get into your pajamas, I’ll get you settled in bed and…do you have any aches or pains? I can get you something if you’re hurting.”
“No, I don’t hurt anywhere.”
“Darn, and I was looking forward to kissing everything to make it better.”
