“We only have the one car. Dad needs it for work.”
“Then maybe your uncle will take you. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you asked him. In fact, he’d probably like to spend the time with you.”
Benny’s voice hitched. His bottom lip was in a thin, tight line as he held on to the last fragments of his control. “It should have been me.”
“But it wasn’t you.”
“Yeah, well, it should’ve been. I wish I’d done it sooner. None of this would have happened. Chuck would be okay and…none of it!” Benny stopped his tirade, clenching every muscle in his face, holding back a tidal wave of emotion.
Abruptly, he charged from the chair and sped through the door like crumpled leaves on a gust of winter wind. Although Teresa was on his heels, Benny was already halfway down the hall and racing toward the clinic door. Karen Dulton, who had been waiting in the lobby, snapped a startled glance back at Teresa, then raced out the door after her son.
Dennis strode out of his office just in time to see the whole show. As he rushed by her, Teresa put out her arm to stop him. “Let Karen do it,” she said.
“No luck?” he asked.
Teresa dragged some much-needed air into her lungs. Her pulse was pounding from the adrenaline rush of Benny’s tirade. “Actually, yes. Getting to the heart of what gives pain is never easy, Dennis. It’s going to take him some time, but I think I chipped away a little at that shell he’s been hiding under.”
Dennis glanced down, his gaze settling on her hand on his arm. Her eyes followed until she saw what had captured Dennis’s attention. Her hand was visibly trembling. She reached up and clamped her arms around her middle in an effort to steady herself. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, Dennis. I’m fine. It’s just—”
“Come here,” Dennis said, opening his arms to her.
She lifted her chin resolutely. “No.”
She couldn’t have him hold her. Not like this. She wasn’t the one who needed comfort here. Benny was. She just wished that every time she saw Benny her mind didn’t wander back to that autumn day at Mariah’s house.
News of David’s death in the car accident just days before had shocked all of them, especially Mariah.
More shocking was that David’s accident had happened just after he’d had a fight with Mariah. She’d told him she was pregnant and he’d said that he didn’t want the baby, fearing he’d have to change his college plans or lose his football scholarship. After the fight, he was driving fast and careless, not reacting to the black ice in time. Since they held the fight accountable for David’s recklessness, many of his teammates and friends blamed Mariah for his death.
David hadn’t been there to defend her when raw feelings turned ugly. Grief counselors, including Teresa, had focused on the loss, not the aftermath of anger the classmates had felt toward Mariah, leaving Mariah to take the brunt of it alone, until it all became too much for her and suicide seemed like the only way out.
Thinking about it made Teresa want to run away again, but Dennis ignored her plea and drew her tightly into the circle of his arms right there in the middle of the hallway. In her mind, Teresa told herself it was completely unprofessional—for both of them. But she found herself sinking against his broad chest, absorbing all the warmth and comfort he offered. She loved that he was unabashedly open about his feelings and his concern. She’d seen that from the first and had been drawn to it, drawn to the man.
“I need your help,” she murmured, her head against his chest.
He bent his head and lightly kissed her forehead. “You got me any way you want me, lady.”
Chapter Eleven
Call it ego, but when Teresa had asked for his help, the last thing he’d expected was to go traipsing through a thigh-high snowbank on the banks of Abbey Bridge. The striking image of its barn-red color siding glowing like neon against the white snow blanketing the ground hardly made up for being stuck outside in the bitter cold.
“What are we looking for?” he asked Teresa as she paced up and down between the span of the bridge.
She stopped in front of him and propped her fists on her hips. “I haven’t a clue. I guess I hoped that by coming down here and seeing for myself how everything played out New Year’s Eve that I could understand why Benny feels so responsible. I mean, it’s normal for him to feel bad, even if it isn’t his fault. He was driving. But this is deeper.”
“Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the accident at all,” Dennis said. “Maybe it’s everything else going on in his life that he’s upset about.”
“Could be. But if that’s the case, why does he keep mentioning the accident? He’s the one who’s bringing it up lately. Not me.”
Dennis peered over the boarded-over railing where Molly’s car had skidded on the slippery road before meeting its end. Layers of fresh snow covered the once-glaring scars from the accident that had claimed the young mother’s life several weeks ago. Except for the simple wood beams used to patch the inside of the bridge, there was no evidence that an accident occurred here.
Dennis glanced up at the sound of an approaching car.
“Oh, good. I asked Dan MacKenzie to stop by, too.”
“What do you think Mac can tell you that wasn’t in the report?”
“I don’t know.”
Teresa shook her head and sighed, a cloud of mist emitting from her mouth. She looked adorably frustrated, and he found himself wishing he could kiss her anxiety away.
She’d probably punch him if he tried, he mused with a smile. She didn’t seem like the type to stand for any distractions when she was on a fact-finding mission.
Just as well, he reminded himself. She wasn’t planning to stay, so he shouldn’t do anything to make himself fall for her even harder. It’d just make it more difficult to let her go.
It was a relief to see Mac’s car approach. Dennis liked Mac, though he knew that the welcome to Stockington Falls that the Memphis native had received could be considered lukewarm at best. But he was a determined man, and Stockington Falls needed someone who was committed to sticking with the job.
Dennis guessed Mac to be about a few years younger than his thirty-five years, maybe a little less. But not by much. Not used to dealing with the staunch letter of the law, the townspeople balked when some of the minor infractions that living in a remote area allowed were no longer viewed in a lax manner. Dan MacKenzie was heavy-handed about crime of all kinds. The occasional request for a fixed traffic ticket fell on deaf ears.
But Dennis couldn’t help but approve of how Mac absolutely adored Cammie Reynolds. Despite them being polar opposites on some extremes, he and Cammie walked the same line on what mattered most in life. Dennis always wondered what it was that ended a relationship that seemed so perfect from the start.
Mac tipped his hat to Teresa as he ambled up the slight incline toward the bridge. “Good afternoon, ma’am.”
“I know you’re probably sick of hearing from me, Dan, but thank you for indulging me once again. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble.”
“It’s a slow day.”
“I promise this will be the last time.”
“What seemed to be the problem?” Mac said in his deep Southern drawl.
“No problem,” Teresa said, digging her hands deep into the pocket of her peacoat. “I was just wondering if you could walk me through the chain of events the state police came up with for what happened here New Year’s Eve.”
Mac gripped the wide rim of his police hat, adjusting it on his head. “I thought it pretty much stated things the way they were in that report I showed you, Teresa. From what I got from Ms. Pryor, the operator of the Trooper, Molly Peterson’s Bronco was traveling southbound toward Abbey Bridge. Ms. Pryor was headed up to the lodge when she saw headlights on the wrong side of the road.”
“I thought Allie Pryor lived on the other side of town,” Dennis said. “Why would she be heading back up the mountain at that hour
of the evening? It was almost midnight.”
“Vanessa told me all the staff were asked to attend the gala,” Teresa told him.
Mac nodded. “I confirmed that when I talked to the staff. And Allie hadn’t been feeling well earlier and came late.”
Teresa pointed to the long and winding road heading away from the ski resort. “Benny was coming down the mountain, just a little ways after Molly.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What would Benny be doing up on the mountain? I didn’t see him at the resort party,” Dennis said. “But the event was huge. He could have been anywhere.”
“Chuck’s mother told me Chuck had a job at the resort ski shop,” Teresa added. “His shift was over, and he didn’t want to wait for his parents to pick him up so he called Benny to come get him.”
“I’m afraid the young kids like to have fun on some of the fire roads leading into the hills,” Mac said. “It was bad weather to be doing that. Of course, once Gary Estabrooks sells off that land next to the resort to the Kaufmanns, that’ll end. The whole landscape of the mountain will change if they end up expanding the ski resort like they plan. Either that or I’m going to have to get used to camping out at the end of the fire road just to keep them off the mountain.”
Teresa glanced around at the stand of pine trees at the mouth of the seventy-five-foot covered bridge. She walked over and touched the angry spot where metal had connected with the tree. “Benny hit here and Allie Pryor—”
“The opposite side, right along that stone wall there,” Mac said.
“And what about Molly Peterson’s Bronco?”
Again, Mac pointed to the mountain road leading from the resort. “From what I gather, she’d been at the gala and was heading home toward the bridge.”
“I saw her briefly,” Dennis said. “She and Drew were there for about twenty minutes, and then I don’t remember seeing them again.”
Teresa stared at the snow-covered scenery as she nibbled on her thumbnail. “Benny insists there was a truck going too fast. No headlights, he said.”
“No one should be going fast on this bridge when they’re the only vehicle. Never mind bad weather and multiple cars,” Mac said.
Mac glanced at Dennis, then back at Teresa. “I don’t know. There’s no mention in the report about a car or truck with no headlights on. Why would they be coming through the bridge with no headlights?”
Dennis agreed. “It’s a recipe for disaster.”
“They converged on this area all within a few seconds of each other,” Teresa continued. “Molly was headed down the hill in the same direction that Benny was going. Allie was coming up but never made it through the bridge. Benny said he saw the hole in the bridge before he noticed Molly’s car in the water.”
“I was under the assumption that the Bronco exploded when it went into the water,” Mac said, adjusting his hat. “If the hole was already there, and Molly’s car had already gone over, then he should have seen the fire first, especially with that gaping hole in the wall of the bridge opening up the view.”
“You think Benny is confused?” Dennis asked. “He didn’t have enough alcohol in his system for him to have been confused as a result of that, but he is an inexperienced driver. And with the bad road conditions on New Year’s Eve, well, he could have hit a patch, got spun around and didn’t know how to recover.”
Teresa looked around. “That’s enough to shake up anyone. It may have taken him a while to notice the Bronco was on fire. Even an experienced driver can get disoriented.”
Mac sighed. “My best guess is that Benny lost control when he got distracted by the sight of the hole. He swerved, setting off Allie’s accident. Simple as that. If there was another truck, it was long gone by the time the emergency service came on the scene.”
“You think it was Allie’s Trooper coming up that Benny’s thinking of?” Teresa went over to the marks on the inside of the bridge where Molly’s Bronco busted through the wall. “He sees the big hole in the side of the bridge and gets nervous. When people see things out of the ordinary, they stare.”
“Maybe he saw the Trooper at the last second, and it made him swerve again as he came out of the bridge, causing him to hit the tree,” Dennis said.
“I have to admit, after reviewing the state police’s reconstruction of the accident there does seem to be some holes in this investigation that need filling.”
“For instance?” Dennis said.
Mac stood tall with his hands propped on his hips, his legs slightly parted. “Benny should have seen the explosion as he rounded the corner to Abbey Road. But he said he was already out of his car when it happened.”
“That’s right,” Teresa added. “He thought it was fireworks going off at first. But he had hit his head on the steering wheel, so who knows if he was even coherent enough to know what happened.”
“He was,” Dennis said. Dazed, confused and already full of remorse, Benny had immediately retreated into an inner world to find comfort, he recalled, but not showing any signs of decreased cognition. “His head injury wasn’t the reason we kept him overnight.”
“So you’re saying you think Benny may be right and the Bronco didn’t explode right away?” Teresa asked.
“It could be. I just don’t know. For now, the report shows exactly what the state police came up with when they reconstructed the scene.”
“But none of that answers my question,” Teresa said. “Benny didn’t cause Molly Peterson’s Bronco to go into the river. By his own admission, the accident had already happened by the time he got here. It may have only been seconds before, but at least he can be sure his driving wasn’t what caused Molly’s death. So why does he seem to feel responsible for Molly’s death?”
“You think that’s what he’s been upset about all this time?” Dennis asked. “I thought he was worried about Chuck.”
“He still is. I’m sure that’s definitely part of it. But one detail at a time, please.”
“So where’s the hole in the report?” Dennis asked.
Mac motioned for them all to walk over to the edge of the bridge. Dennis and Teresa followed. Pointing to the opposite bank, Mac said, “There’s one thing that has been bugging me for a while. Something I just can’t wrap my mind around.”
“What’s that?” Dennis said.
Again, Mac pointed to the bank of the river flowing under Abbey Bridge and then to a spot directly beneath the hole in the bridge where the Bronco had busted through the rail.
“Look at the distance between the hole in the bridge and the riverbank where Drew was found.”
“What about it?” Teresa asked.
“Drew Peterson is seven years old and about yay tall.” Mac put his hand out as if measuring an imaginary child. “If my memory serves me right, his clothes weren’t all that wet when he was put into the ambulance, were they? The fire chief who was first on the scene said he was thrilled to find Drew in such a good state, physically. His clothes were virtually dry, not indicative of being submersed in water.”
Teresa glanced at the distance again. “But that’s impossible. He’s so small. He would have had to swim to get to shore, unless the blast blew him there, in which case he’d have landed harder and ended up with much more injuries.”
“Or unless someone carried him out of the car,” Dennis said.
“Are you sure about this?” Teresa asked.
Dennis thought long and hard about that night. “There was so much going on that night, and there was a lag in the time between when Drew was admitted to emergency and when I attended to him. I was with Chuck a long while before he was airlifted to St. Johnsbury. By the time I got to Drew, he was dressed in a hospital gown. Cammie took care of that. I know his injuries were too minor to indicate that he’d been carried by the blast, but I’m less sure about the swimming. I can’t be sure if Drew’s clothes were dry or not until I read Cammie’s report.”
Mac sighed. “Neither can I, and it’s been nagging at me. We’ve
been assuming the boy somehow climbed out of the vehicle, but take a look here.”
Teresa and Dennis followed Mac to the side of the road, stopping at the railing leading to the side of the bridge where Drew was found. The water rushed wildly under the bridge.
Teresa gasped. “There is no way a small child could swim easily against the flow of that water.”
“You’re right,” Dennis said. He couldn’t imagine how Drew even survived the crash, let alone managed to escape the vehicle before it exploded. God was with him for sure.
Mac pointed to the spot where the Bronco plunged into the water. “The boy was seated in the backseat. Even if he jumped a good distance from where he was sitting, he would have landed in the water. The back door was open. But it could have blown open during the explosion or when the Bronco fell headfirst into the water.”
Dennis shook his head in amazement. “Either way, if Drew got out of that car on his own, he would have certainly soaked his clothes through and been hypothermic by the time Carlos and the EMTs arrived on the scene. I would have remembered that. We would have been more worried about hypothermia.”
Teresa crossed her arms across her chest. “There’s something else that is bothering me about this, too.”
“What’s that?”
“Drew is so young. It’s strange a child that young would leave his mother in the car. Children don’t often leave their parents when they are frightened. It would make more sense for a child his age to stay by his mother’s side and wait for help.”
Dennis thought back to the distant look on Drew’s face. Seeing a car explode with someone you love still inside was enough to send anyone over the edge. But for a child…
“Drew must not have been belted in the backseat. He had to have been thrown from the Bronco when it started to spin, before the explosion. By the grace of God, he ended up on the bank instead of in the water,” Mac concluded.
“For him, I’d say that was a blessing,” Dennis added.
“But we’ll never know for sure because the boy’s not talking much about it. It may take a long time before he does.” Mac turned to Teresa. “Has he said anything to you?”
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