by Susan Harper
“I’m okay,” he assured her. “I think I just got road burn pretty bad… Geeze, I think my back broke the window of that car, though.” He went to push himself off the ground, but a searing pain lit up his back, and Felicity helped ease him back down with cautious hands.
“You only think you’re okay because you’re pumping adrenaline. Stay still, and I mean it, Jeffrey,” she told him. “I can’t believe whoever hit you ran off like that!”
Jefferson pointed down the hill toward where the vehicle had crashed into the corner of the building. “You realize what car that is, don’t you?”
She looked up; she certainly hadn’t thought much about what type of vehicle had almost run her over. “That’s Charles’s car!” she shouted in awe. That was surely not a coincidence. She could see the Cobra off in the distance letting out smoke and steam.
“Go check it out before the police get here,” Jefferson said and sat up despite her insistence that he remain laying down. He grunted but propped himself up on his elbows and nudged his chin toward the car, urging her to go.
She decided to go look after checking Jefferson over. His head was bleeding, so she made him press his palm against the wound until an ambulance could get there. She took off for the car, throwing a warning look back at Jefferson to ensure he didn’t move. Once at the car, she could see that whoever was driving it was likely hurt. The old vehicle had taken some serious damage. It had fought the building, and the building had certainly won. The hood of the Cobra had been wrenched up, and just as Jefferson had predicted, the windshield was split. A spider web of fissures sprawled from his point of impact. The steering wheel had jerked up, which meant if the culprit had been holding it, they were at best sporting a broken wrist or at worse, they’d have a whole arm out of commission.
She gritted her teeth, thinking that Brandon was the most likely culprit unless Adam had actually bought the car since they had last spoken. There didn’t seem to be anything left behind in the vehicle, but the stitching on the bottom of the passenger’s seat had been ripped to shreds. “Oh, my,” she said and grinned. She pulled out her phone and snapped a few pictures. Someone had been using the vehicle to stash something. Upon further examination, she noticed traces of some sort of white powder left behind in the back seats. She snapped a few more pictures before hurrying back to Jefferson, not feeling right about leaving his side for too long.
First on the scene was none other than Officer Jack Huddleston. Felicity groaned when she saw him get out of the vehicle, his lights still flashing. He parked in the middle of the road to keep any cars from coming down, and he hurried to the sidewalk where the two of them were seated. “Man, you look like crap,” Jack said to Jefferson as he knelt down beside them.
“Gee, thanks,” Jefferson said, still pressing the palm of his hand against his bloodied head.
“Don’t worry,” Jack said. “An ambulance is in route. Want to tell me what happened?”
“Someone tried to kill us,” Jefferson stated in a bold, quick snarl.
“It’s true,” Felicity said. “And they would have hit me if Jefferson hadn’t knocked me out of the way.”
The ambulance was making its way toward them already, and soon the paramedics were loading Jefferson up after a quick assessment. “Is this really necessary?” Jefferson asked. “I feel fine.”
“Your leg is broken,” the paramedic responded bluntly.
“It doesn’t feel broken,” Jefferson argued.
“I told you: adrenaline,” Felicity quipped. She watched as the ambulance pulled off, taking Jefferson with it. “I’m going to follow him to the hospital,” she told Jack as another patrol car pulled up.
“The 911 caller said that the driver bailed, so this is going to become an investigation. Do you mind if I get your statement before you go?” Jack asked.
“Sure. Why not,” Felicity said with a huff.
The two of them found themselves standing beside the wrecked vehicle; other officers were there putting up yellow tape while they spoke. “I’m glad you’re all right,” Jack said before they could begin.
“Thanks,” she said and then nodded toward the car. “You know whose car that is, right? You think Brandon tried to run me down?”
“Probably not. He was at the station just a few hours ago and reported his father’s car stolen. He might even still be there filling out paperwork, so I don’t think he was driving,” Jack said.
“Well, you might want to look at this,” she said and then waved him over toward the passenger’s seat. He shined his flashlight into the vehicle. “Someone had something stashed under the seats, and if you look closely, you can see traces of some sort of white powder. I think someone, maybe Charles, maybe Brandon, was using the car to transport drugs.”
“You do realize that Charles was going to sell this car to Adam Fao. So unless you’re accusing Fao of drug trafficking, which I wouldn’t recommend doing, I don’t know if that’s so—”
“Look at it, Jack,” Felicity said and pointed. “Just do your job and have that powder tested, okay?”
“Relax, I know what I’m going. I’m not some rookie cop, Felicity,” he said.
“Yeah, but you did arrest one of my friends over a few drops of oil,” she retorted.
“You know Autumn told me about your little investigative work. You’re the one who tipped us off about the fan belt murder weapon theory. If Charles was strangled by a fan belt, and this car was leaking oil, and oil matching what was found on Charles was found in Bobby’s private office, well, it’s starting to look a little less bogus of an accusation, don’t you agree?”
“So you admit that it’s bogus?” she snapped, poking a finger into his chest. “It was a car show, with a bunch of old cars, any one of them could have been leaking oil. There are a lot of explanations as to how oil wound up on Bobby’s desk. Bobby could have looked under the hood of any one of those cars while he was there, gotten oil on him, and brought it back to the office.”
He stepped back and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m trying here, all right?”
“But why would Bobby even have the fan belt to begin with?” she questioned. “He wasn’t looking at Charles’s car as far as we know. Brandon hasn’t mentioned to anyone about ever seeing or knowing Bobby, so if your prime suspect had been snooping around Charles’ car to the point that he could get under the hood, steal a fan belt, and make some alterations to keep it running, well, don’t you think Brandon would have noticed and said something? So, Officer, why don’t you tell me how any of that makes sense? Why would Bobby have the fan belt?”
“I don’t know,” Jack said. He looked tired and haggard. “The investigation is still open, you know?”
“You want to know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think that there had to be a reason for someone to remove the fan belt from the car. That’s a lot of trouble to go through to kill someone with something that’s going to leave behind evidence, right? I think Charles got into a confrontation with someone and the killer already had the fan belt on him for another reason other than to kill Charles, otherwise it probably would have been more convenient to kill him with literally anything else.” She eyed Jack carefully, pressing him for an argument or an excuse. When she got neither, she kept going. “The fan belt was a weapon of convenience. The killer already had to have had it on him when he decided to kill Charles. The kill was spontaneous. So if you can figure out who would have wanted to remove the fan belt from Charles’s car for a reason other than murder, I think you’ll find out who was really behind this. And as far as I know, there is no reason for Bobby to go around stealing a fan belt out of a complete stranger’s car!”
“I suppose you do have a point,” Jack said. “Felicity, I am looking into this, you know? I didn’t just put Bobby in cuffs because I wanted to end this thing quickly. I wish you’d trust me. We go back, you know?”
“I know,” she said and sighed. “Look, I want to get to the hospital to check
on Jefferson. Can you just get my statement later, please?”
“Sure,” he said, and she almost immediately turned down the road to head to her car. He hurried along beside her, not letting her out of his sight. “You know, Felicity, I really am glad that you weren’t hurt tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if I had come here and seen you beat up the way Jefferson was.”
She gave him an approving nod before climbing into her car. She headed toward Highway 16, the fastest route she knew to get to Newnan Hospital.
Chapter 11
Felicity bolted into Newnan Hospital just a few minutes after midnight. Jack had kept her standing around the crime scene a bit longer than she had wanted. Since Jefferson had been taken away in an ambulance, it was likely that he had already been seen by a doctor. She texted Autumn, who she knew was working the graveyard shift that night. She responded promptly with a room number for Jefferson so that Felicity could avoid waiting around in the ER for answers as to where their friend was.
Within minutes, she had made her way across the hospital and had located a small room where Autumn was already paying a visit to Jefferson. As she entered the room, she felt a sudden pang of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She realized she hadn’t even thanked him yet for pushing her out of the way of the oncoming vehicle. She hurried inside and stood beside the small hospital bed they already had him set up in. “What did the doctor say?” she asked and placed a hand on his shoulder. He now looked to be in pain. Clearly his adrenaline had worn off, and the medicine they were pumping into his veins was only doing so much to alleviate his discomfort.
He smiled, though, as soon as he saw her—like he always did. Autumn answered for him. “Broken leg, cracked rib, and a minor skull fracture. He’s going to be fine, though. Dr. Ashely said that he might have broken his wrist too, but they’re not certain.”
“Geeze, Jeffrey,” Felicity said, feeling a bit flushed. “That car was headed straight toward me, and all I got was a little scraped up from falling onto the pavement. You saved me. Thank you.”
“Saved you?” Autumn questioned before Jefferson could respond. “What, did he push you out of the way?”
“He did. He’s a hero.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” Jefferson said, and he blushed. “You would have done the same for me.”
“She might have,” Autumn teased. “But I would have let you get plowed before I got side-swiped by a car.”
“I wasn’t side-swiped,” he retorted. “I was hit head-on. I’m just relieved I went over the car instead of under it.” Jefferson then looked at Autumn and gave her a big smile. “You’re giving me a hard time, but you freaked out when you saw me getting out of the ambulance. Didn’t realize you cared.”
“Oh, shut up,” Autumn said and delivered a playful punch in his arm.
Jefferson looked back at Felicity. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “You’re the one I’m worried about. So are they putting you in a cast or what?”
“Probably,” he said. “So what did Jack say when you showed him the car seats?”
“He said he’s going to look into it and have the powder tested,” Felicity responded. “I bounced a few theories off of him while we were there.”
“Oh, I bet that was hilarious,” Autumn said with a snort. “Jack has a big head. He thinks he’s some big shot detective. He’s just a street cop, though.”
“I’ve noticed,” Felicity moaned. “But he did make me think. The fan belt, you really think it could have been the murder weapon, Autumn?”
“The markings on Charles’s neck plus the motor oil make that highly probable,” Autumn said. “And now that the police have the car in their possession from this little hit and run incident, I guarantee you that Jack is going to have a look under the hood to confirm whether or not it’s missing.”
“So if the fan belt is our murder weapon, then there is no way Bobby is the one responsible. No one is going to go through the trouble of removing a fan belt from a vehicle just to use it to kill someone and risk leaving all of that evidence. Charles’s murder was spontaneous, and whoever did it already had the fan belt on them. Bobby didn’t know Charles, so the chances of him just happening across the fan belt of the man’s car and then just deciding to kill the man with it is really unlikely. So here’s the question…” Felicity paused for dramatic effect. “Why would someone have removed the fan belt in the first place?”
The three were quiet for a moment, but then Jefferson suddenly piped up. “Well, the car was still running. So there was something else going on under that hood. Like I said, I think someone changed the belt. But the insulator should have—”
“The insulator had been removed by Charles,” Felicity said. “Brandon said he removed it from the hood so that he could amplify the sound of the engine for the car show.”
“What if our assailant knew that? Then he could have swapped the belts to keep it moving, like what I said before. That would have kept the engine running, but it would have overheated. Charles was trying to sell the vehicle, so it looks to me like someone didn’t want him to sell.”
“Or,” Autumn intervened, “someone wanted the engine to overheat to make it seem like a piece of junk so that they wouldn’t have to pay so much for the car.”
“You mean like Adam Fao?” Jefferson asked. “You really want to accuse a Fao of murder?”
“Jack said the same thing to me tonight,” Felicity said. “I suppose it’s possible that Charles figured out what happened and then Adam killed him to keep him quiet. The Faos have been known to be over-protective of their reputations, and to pull a stunt like that would be embarrassing, but I don’t know if such a nice guy like Adam would have killed Charles to avoid a little embarrassment. Plus, he has plenty of money. Why would he be concerned about getting the price knocked down a little? Then there’s what we saw tonight. It looked to me like someone was stashing drugs inside the vehicle. I suppose Charles could have been doing that. His son Brandon had access to the vehicle too. Jack said Brandon reported the vehicle stolen, so whoever stole it could have done that as well…but then again, the drugs had been removed, and he had only reported the vehicle stolen a few hours ago. And whoever ran Jefferson over, I think it was intentional.”
“Why do you think that?” Autumn asked.
“We didn’t see the car coming. My memory of the incident is a little foggy because it all happened so fast, but I think it had been sitting down the street with its lights turned off…like it had been waiting for us. They didn’t turn the lights on until they started speeding in our direction.”
“So little old Senoia has drug dealers and an attempted serial killer now?” Autumn questioned.
“That’s if you’re assuming the person who killed Charles is the same person who went after Felicity and me,” Jefferson said. “But why would someone want to kill us?”
“Someone found out we were looking into Charles’s murder, that’s why, and they want us to stop,” Felicity explained.
“Well,” Autumn sang slightly. “I unfortunately have to head back to my side of the building and get back to work. A piece of advice, you two. If someone tried to kill you over this, maybe it’s best you slow your rolls a little.”
“It also means that we might be onto something. We’re making someone nervous for a reason,” Felicity said.
Autumn shook her head. “You two just try to be more careful and stay out of trouble, all right?” She rubbed the top of Jefferson’s head. “Glad you’re okay, Jeffrey.” She hurried out the door to head back to work.
Felicity yawned slightly, and Jefferson reached out and nudged her arm. “Go home. I’ll be fine. I got my brother coming up here, and he’s going to take me home when they release me. No reason you should sit up here half the night.”
She smiled at him. “Are you sure?”
“It’s past midnight. Go home and sleep,” he said. “I’ll be fine.”
Felicity nodded, but before she lef
t, she leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Thank you,” she said.
The kiss had him rather flabbergasted, and he struggled to say, “You’re welcome,” before she left to head home for the night.
Chapter 12
Felicity sat across from a nervous looking Bobby Hendricks in the visitation area of the local jail. He wore a bright orange jumpsuit, and he tapped his fingers nervously against the table as they spoke. “I appreciate you coming to see me,” Bobby said. “I haven’t exactly had a lot of visitors. They have my accounts frozen, so I can’t pay for my own bail, and I can’t get any family to come down here and fork up the money. They set the bail way too high. I don’t even know if I could afford it if they hadn’t frozen my assets.”
“Why did they freeze your assets?” Felicity asked.
“Apparently they found traces of cocaine in that car,” Bobby grumbled. “I don’t even know what type of car it is. I was only at the car show for maybe an hour, and I didn’t even see Charles or his car!”
“That was cocaine?” Felicity questioned.
“What do you mean that?”
“I’m sorry, Bobby,” Felicity said. “Well, you see, someone driving the car tried to run me down. When it wrecked, I looked inside the car and saw that something had been stitched into the bottom of the passenger’s seat and removed…and I spotted some white powder. I pointed it out to the police.”
“Now they’re adding drug trafficking to a list of crimes I haven’t committed,” Bobby hissed. “It’s not your fault, though. They would have found out about the drugs eventually, I’m sure. Why did someone try to run you down? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Jefferson took the hit for me, though. He’s still in the hospital. Whoever it was bolted, and I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”
“So the same car that’s got me locked up in here tried to plow you down?” Bobby questioned. “Something’s fishy. Why would someone try to hurt you?”
