“I can’t understand how nuts could get in with the raisins,” Stephanie said as she settled into the passenger seat of Brody’s car. “Surely no one would do that on purpose.”
“There are sick people in this world with a skewed sense of right and wrong.”
“I guess you’re right.”
Brody rounded the car and climbed behind the wheel.
“Diane mentioned being worried about Paul. Did he and Josh get along?”
“They were always close. I doubt things have changed.”
“Unless Paul saw Joshua’s injury as too tragic,” Brody said. “Some people have flawed ideas about quality of life.”
“Josh is the type of guy who makes good things come from whatever life throws his way.”
“Yet Paul may not have seen it that way. Did Ted ever give Paul a key to your house?” Brody asked.
“Of course not.”
“What about Ted and Nikki? Anything going on between them?”
“They’re friends. That’s all.”
“You said they dated in high school, but Nikki went to prom with Hayden. What about Paul? Did he have a girlfriend?”
“He and Cindy dated.”
“Were they serious?”
“About as serious as any seventeen-year-olds can be. They both had a lot of growing up to do.”
“Cindy seems to have her feet on the ground now.”
Stephanie nodded. “She always knew what she wanted. Money was tight. She didn’t go to college. Instead, she helped out with her mom’s cleaning service. I’m not sure when she started working for Walt.”
Glancing at her watch, Stephanie added, “Since we’re not far from the garage, would you mind if we stopped by to see if my car is ready? You’ve been so kind to chauffer me back and forth to work, but I’m sure you’ll be relieved when I get my own car back.”
Giving Stephanie rides provided a way to see her and keep her close, which Brody needed to do for the investigation. He also liked being with her.
“We’ll check on your car, but you haven’t been a burden or a problem. In fact, I’ve enjoyed our time together.”
She hesitated for a moment and looked at him, the sun shining on her hair. “You’re very thoughtful, Brody.”
Thoughtful? That wasn’t what he wanted her to think. He was hoping for a word that was more in keeping with his own feelings, although he’d be hard-pressed to express the way he really felt.
Somehow he got his feelings for Stephanie mixed up with his memory of Lisa. Yet Stephanie was different. She was here, and Lisa was gone.
Instead of dreaming about Lisa as he’d done for so long, he had started to dream about Stephanie and that had him wondering about this investigation.
He was reacting like someone who was too involved, too committed. Not to the case, but to Stephanie.
* * *
“The tires came in yesterday,” Walt told Stephanie once she and Brody arrived at the garage. “I meant to call you.”
The cost of the four tires would put a significant hole in her bank account, which was one of the reasons Stephanie was glad she could live at home, at least until she received her first paycheck.
“Where’s the car?” Brody asked after she paid the bill.
Walt handed her the keys and pointed behind the garage. “It’s parked out back.”
“My radar for danger is picking up bad vibes,” Brody said as he and Stephanie rounded the garage. Her Corolla was parked next to a wooded area well away from the street. “I’m glad you didn’t come here at night alone.”
She shook her head, somewhat amused. “Do you CID guys always imagine the worst-case scenario?”
He raised his brow and held up four fingers. “Joshua Webb was attacked. Your house was broken into and a warning left. A bridge collapsed with you on it. You were almost shot.” He raised his thumb. “Should we add the mysterious cookie delivery?”
She held up her hand to stop him. “It’s daytime. You’re with me, and the car looks fine.”
“I’ll follow you back to post.”
“I usually take the two lane through town that runs along the river.”
“Got it. The scenic route. But I’m still following you.”
He helped her into her car and waited until she started the engine before he climbed behind the wheel of his own car. Stephanie hummed a tune as she pulled out of the parking space and headed along the winding River Road.
The sun was shining and warmed the day. Stephanie turned up the air conditioner and appreciated the coolness that soon circulated through the car. Glancing repeatedly at her rearview mirror, she watched for Brody’s car to appear.
As much as she liked having her Corolla back, she had enjoyed having a reason to see Brody. Hopefully, they’d continue to get together. Maybe he could schedule another class for the WTB. She’d call him once she was back at her desk and see what they could arrange.
A sharp curve appeared ahead. A sign on the side of the road warned trucks to apply their brakes. She glanced at her speedometer and, realizing she was going faster than the limit, tapped the brakes.
Instead of slowing down, the car gained momentum. She pressed down harder on the brake pedal and swallowed a ball of anxiety that climbed into her throat.
Gripping the steering wheel with one hand, she downshifted with the other. The vehicle shuddered and the speed dropped ever so slightly, but once she entered the curve, she struggled to keep the wheels on the road.
The steep downward slope of the roadway ahead made her stomach roil. A huge semi tractor-trailer chugged up the hill in the opposite lane. She flashed her lights to signal her distress.
The trucker flashed back, no doubt oblivious to her need.
She glanced again at the speedometer. Seventy miles per hour. Too fast.
Bile soured her stomach.
If Brody were behind the wheel, he’d know what to do.
Think. Think.
The semi neared. She held her breath. The trucker blew his horn as she whizzed past him.
A straight stretch of roadway lay ahead, flanked by thick woods to the left and a five-foot drop-off to the river on the right.
She tramped on the emergency-brake pedal. The car slowed ever so slightly before accelerating once again.
A sports utility vehicle approached.
A woman sat at the wheel with three little heads perched in car seats behind her.
Stephanie’s car shimmied out of control and swerved into the left lane. She tugged on the steering wheel, nearly sideswiping the SUV before she lost control. The Corolla crossed the right-hand lane, jumped the curb and slid down the hill.
Her heart lodged in her throat.
The last thing she heard was the name she screamed.
“Brody!”
* * *
Brody increased his speed, needing to catch up with Stephanie. A series of red lights had delayed him in town. Now on the open roadway, he hoped to make up time.
He spied her car rounding a curve up ahead.
His heart lurched. She was going fast. Too fast.
He raced forward.
God, help her. The internal prayer came without forethought.
He pushed down on the accelerator and took the curve at a fast rate. His own heart beat wildly as a huge semi rolled past him, followed by an SUV.
Searching the distance, Brody saw only the empty road.
Where was she?
A swirl of dust caught his eye.
His gut tightened.
“Stephanie,” he screamed.
Screeching to a stop, he punched nine-one-one on his cell and sprang from his car, relaying information to the operator.
“Send an ambulance and medical responders
now.”
He stumbled down the hill toward where her car had landed on its side. The engine still purred. Peering through the front windshield, he saw Stephanie suspended by her seat belt, the airbag limp around her. Her eyes were closed, her cheek bloodied. Her tousled hair dangled in the air.
He climbed the hood and yanked on the door.
The latch held. Pounding on the driver’s window, he screamed her name.
Another fear rose up within him, more deadly than the crash.
Smoke.
If he didn’t get Stephanie out, she would be trapped inside the car as it went up in flames.
* * *
A voice penetrated the darkness.
Stephanie moaned.
Her body ached. A jackhammer pounded through her brain.
She wanted to slip back into the darkness.
“Stephanie.”
Insistent. Pleading.
She recognized the voice.
“Br...Brody?”
More pounding.
“Open your eyes, Stephanie. The door’s locked. Release the latch.”
She blinked against the light, feeling a swell of nausea. The world hung topsy-turvy around her.
She tried to make sense of the disorder. The only constant was Brody’s voice.
Turning her head ever so slightly, she saw his face pressed against the window, his palm pounding against the glass.
“Unlock the door,” he screamed.
Lifting her left hand, she flipped the small knob on the door handle.
Smoke swirled around her.
Instinctively, she cowered.
The door opened. With a snap, Brody released the seat belt, grabbed her purse and lifted her into his arms.
Holding her close, he jumped to the ground below.
“Brody,” she whispered, wanting to drift away from the chaos.
“Don’t leave me, honey.”
The acrid smell of smoke and fuel filled her nostrils. Blinking open her eyes, she turned her head ever so slightly, seeing flames shoot skyward.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Everything seemed surreal except the pounding of Brody’s heart and his pull of air as he carried her away from the carnage, away from the fire, away from danger.
* * *
Brody hovered next to the EMTs as they worked on Stephanie. A bandage covered the cut on her forehead. The blood had been cleaned from her face, but she still looked pale, which worried him.
One of the EMTs stood. “Can you give us a little room, sir?”
Stephanie glanced up at Brody and smiled, not quite a full grin but enough to reassure him.
“How’s the injury to her head?” he asked.
“Looks like she’s going to be okay, sir. We’re taking her to the local hospital. You can follow us there.”
“I’ll ride with her in the ambulance.”
“Brody, I’m all right.” Stephanie tried to reassure him. “Drive your own car. We’ll both need a ride home from the hospital.”
She was thinking more soundly than he was at this point.
Brody turned to the EMT. “Are you sure she can make the trip?”
“She seems in good shape,” the EMT said. “But we want the E.R. doc to check her out first. You understand?”
Brody understood the EMT, but not what had happened.
He glanced at the smoldering pile of twisted metal that had been Stephanie’s car.
The Freemont chief of police stood near the wreckage. Brody approached Palmer.
“Any idea what happened?” Brody asked.
“She was going too fast, for sure. She said the brakes didn’t work. We’ll check out what’s left of the vehicle, but it’s doubtful we’ll ever pinpoint what malfunctioned. If there was evidence, it probably burned up in the fire.”
“Did you send someone to talk to Walt at the garage?”
“He wasn’t there, but his sister was more than helpful. They’ve had some problem with vandalism over the past few weeks. We picked up a couple of teenagers last week. They denied everything, but we’re pretty sure they’re involved. I’m sending someone to bring them back in for questioning.”
“Why would they tamper with Stephanie’s brakes?”
“Beats me.” Palmer scratched his chin. “A lot has happened to Ms. Upton. Are you sure she wouldn’t do something like this to attract attention to herself?”
“That’s ridiculous. She came back to this area to help her brother. He’s the one with the problem. I need to find out if anyone saw him around the garage.”
“I talked to Major Jenkins. Private Upton’s been in his barracks.” He flicked his gaze to Stephanie. “You know very well that some folks make up stories to be the center of attention. Stephanie’s mama died young. Her daddy is a workaholic who never gave the kids enough of his time. Now her brother’s a war hero.” The cop continued. “It’s a possibility she needed to feel wanted or protected or important. Maybe all three. Wasn’t that long ago when Stephanie Upton was one of the young women to watch in this area. Folks thought she’d do well in life.”
Success wasn’t important. Staying alive was.
“She has done well,” Brody countered. “She’s got a good job on post and is an effective and compassionate advocate for wounded soldiers. That’s something to admire, in my opinion.”
“I agree.” Palmer patted Brody’s shoulder. “Just keep an open mind. Sometimes there’s more than one way to look at a situation.”
“What about Joshua? She saved his life.”
“Ms. Upton was the first on the scene. Does that tell you anything?”
It meant she could have staged the attack to look like an accident, which Brody had first considered but soon discarded after talking to Stephanie at Josh’s house.
“The shot last night wasn’t her imagination.”
Palmer nodded. “I agree, but other things have happened.”
Brody thought of the bull’s-eye on the photograph in her kitchen and on her bedsheets, as well as the collapsed bridge. So far he hadn’t discussed the allergic reaction with the chief. He’d save that for later, once he knew for sure what was mixed with the raisins. No reason at the present moment to add more fuel to the fire.
Glancing at the burning embers of what had been Stephanie’s car, Brody knew the chief had enough suspicions of his own.
Brody didn’t want to hear anything negative about Stephanie. She wouldn’t have attacked Joshua or purposefully crashed her car.
Looking at where Stephanie lay brought back memories of Lisa.
The pain of loss twisted his gut. Lisa had been murdered by a killer no one suspected, least of all Brody.
If only he had put the warning signs together that were so evident in hindsight.
What sign was he missing now?
He thought of everything that had happened as he followed the ambulance to the hospital. The paramedics wheeled Stephanie into the E.R., where a competent team of medical personnel rushed her into the treatment room. He paced the hallway until the doctor opened the door and announced she could go home.
Relief swept over Brody, replacing the oppressive heaviness that had surrounded him since the accident.
He couldn’t help but smile as he stepped into the trauma room.
She sat on the edge of the stretcher. Without saying a word, she reached for him.
He wrapped his arms around her. A surge of joy coursed through him. He buried his head in her hair. Despite what she’d been through, he could smell the scent of her shampoo mixed with the smoke that lingered on both of them.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “If you hadn’t followed me...”
“I should have gotten there sooner.”
“You saved me, Brody. You saved my life.”
He knew what could have happened. The thought made him hold her even more closely.
“No matter how hard I stepped on the brake, the car didn’t respond.” She shook her head. “There was a truck and then an SUV with kids in the back.”
“It’s okay, hon. You don’t need to think about it now.”
“But if something else had happened—”
She didn’t finish the thought.
Brody told her about the teen vandals and the chief of police’s concern that they could have been the perpetrators.
“I’m surprised you don’t suspect Ted,” she said at last.
“He’s been in the barracks, Stephanie. Ted wasn’t involved.”
She nodded, appreciation evident in her gaze. “At least, we agree on that.”
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and hurried her out of the E.R. “I’m taking you someplace safe.”
FOURTEEN
Brody held the door open to his bachelor officer’s quarters on post.
“Your apartment’s lovely,” Stephanie said as she walked through the doorway. Brody watched as she glanced around the room, taking in the overstuffed couch and chair, the plasma-screen television and speakers and the bistro table with four chairs and serving sideboard.
He had decorated the living area in earth tones, pulled together with an Oriental rug, which her surprised expression said she hadn’t expected.
Her eyes widened with appreciation as she stepped toward a group of framed charcoal sketches that decorated the walls, all desert scenes of stark hills and big boulders piled next to a two-lane road that cut through the wilderness.
“They’re beautiful, Brody.”
Her gaze dropped to the artist’s name. Goodman.
She turned. “Someone in your family?”
He smiled. “I’m glad you like them.”
“Your mother? Father? Grandfather?” She glanced at the next sketch, again pointing to the Goodman name. “Who’s the artist?”
“They’re mine. I started drawing to pass the time in Afghanistan. The sketches you see here are from Fort Irwin, in the Mojave Desert, where I was stationed following my first deployment.”
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