Argh! Would nothing go right for me at all?
Although ... I thought back to the glimpse of the truck I had gotten when my headlights fell on it. My blood suddenly turned cold.
Was it ... blue?
I whipped my head around, searching the side of the road and the parking lot frantically.
All was quiet. Deserted.
Was the anonymous email sender here after all? Is that what this meant? Did something spook him, and that’s why he didn’t approach me in the bar?
I was making a lot of assumptions, I knew. Even if it was a blue pick-up truck (and with how dark it was, I couldn’t be sure), who cares? There were probably hundreds, no thousands, of blue pick-up trucks in southern Wisconsin.
It certainly didn’t mean it was the same one I kept seeing over and over.
And, even if it was, it still didn’t mean I was being followed.
But, regardless, what was I going to do? Park on the side of the road and try and search for the driver? By myself? In the dark?
And what if I found the driver—then what? Ask him if he was the one sending me emails?
Yeah, that would go well.
No, the smartest thing I could do would be to drive home and call Daniel and confess everything.
Yes, that sounded like a plan. A solid, good plan.
I slowed down to make the sharp left turn back onto the highway. As I turned, my headlights swept past an intersecting road.
A figure was standing there.
I slammed on the brakes. The figure darted backward, disappearing into the dark shadows.
I threw my car in reverse, and after looking around to make sure there were no cars, I did a quick three-point turn.
It was probably someone who lived here, I told myself, as I started driving down the road where the figure had retreated.
Or maybe a hitchhiker, I reasoned with myself. It probably had nothing to do with that pick-up truck at all. Or me.
But ...
What if this WAS my anonymous email sender? What if he had intended to meet me, but got spooked by something or someone he saw in the bar? What if this was his way of getting my attention, so we could meet privately?
It was such a long shot. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t hurt to drive down the road a bit. I had come all this way, after all, and I was safe inside my car with the doors locked. It made sense to at least check it out. I could take a quick detour, see if there was anything back there, and if there wasn’t, no harm no foul. I would go back to my first plan, which was to head home and tell Daniel everything.
The road quickly narrowed, transforming with a bump from asphalt to dirt and gravel. Trees pressed in on either side, the sharp branches scraping the side of the car as I bounced around, trying to keep control of my steering while searching the area. A pair of eyes glowed green in my headlights, peering out from behind a bush. Some sort of animal. A raccoon, maybe. The eyes disappeared.
There was no sign of any dark figure.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. The road was really bad. Was there even enough room for me to turn around? What if I got stuck?
What a mess.
“This is officially the last time I chase any unrecognizable figures down a road I’ve never been on in the dark,” I muttered to myself as I braked. The more I thought about it, the stupider I felt. Even if I was right and that figure was my unknown email sender, was I really going to get out of my car to meet with him here? In the dark? In the middle of nowhere?
It was like a bad Lifetime movie waiting to happen.
What had I been thinking?
That was my problem. I hadn’t been.
I sat in my idle car, debating my options. Maybe I should just back up rather than try and mess with turning around. The road didn’t seem like it was used all that much.
I put the car in reverse, when I saw a flash of light in front of me.
Like a flashlight blinking.
I paused and waited. There it was again.
Definitely a flashlight.
Was that a message? For me?
I swallowed hard, hearing a click in my throat. The hairs on the back of my arms were standing on end.
The flashlight blinked again.
Every part of me screamed to floor it. Get out of there as fast as possible. It wasn’t safe.
On the other hand, what if this was my chance to finally get to the bottom of everything? Was I really going to abandon it without, at the very least, trying to see who the person was?
Was there a way I could drive forward just a few more feet and angle the car toward the source of the flashlight, using my headlights to get a look at the person?
It was worth a try. I wouldn’t drive far, just a little bit. And if it didn’t work, I would put the car in reverse and get the hell out of there.
I made sure all my doors were locked again before putting my car back into drive and slowly creeping forward, turning the wheel toward the side of the road.
Something glinted in my headlights. A car. Parked half in, half off the road.
I stopped, studying it, straining to make out the figure.
But as far as I could see, the car was deserted.
Now what?
Leave? Come back and check it out in the morning? Or just try and forget the whole thing, chalking it up to a dead end?
I searched the area one last time, when I suddenly realized there was something black smeared on the rear bumper. I leaned forward, trying to see what it was.
It was definitely some sort of liquid, and I could even see a couple of clumps.
I wondered what sort of liquid would make such a stain. Was it oil?
Unless ... it only appeared black in the glow of my headlights.
My heart was starting to pound in my chest, and I was beginning to feel lightheaded as the realization of what it looked like slowly dawned on me.
Blood.
Why would blood be on the side of the car like that?
I put my hand over my mouth, trying to keep myself from screaming, as I searched the area again, looking for any sign of the figure.
But it was quiet and still. Deserted.
I took one more look at the car and noticed something sticking out of the trunk. I stared at it. Was it material? I could just make out a pattern, like on a shirt. Or a dress.
Oh my God.
I slammed the car in reverse and jammed on the gas, backing out of there as quickly as possible. I had no idea what was in that car, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
The tires spun and the steering wheel jerked out of my hands. Careful, Becca, I said to myself, fighting to keep my seat as I bounced around on the rocky road. Slow down. You don’t want to get stuck or, God forbid, crash.
But it was like my body had taken over. I was desperate to get back to the main road, desperate for people.
What was in that trunk?
There was a particularly loud bump as the road transitioned back to asphalt, and the car skidded again. I fought for control, both of myself and the car, and forced myself to ease up on the gas and press on the brake.
I could see the main road behind me. Oh, thank God. I forced myself to slow down enough to make sure no one was coming before I backed into the street.
All I wanted to do was drive as fast as I possibly could away from there, but instead, I pulled over to the side and parked, keeping the car running.
My hands were shaking. My whole body was shaking. I could see the lights of The Grand Slam and the parking lot behind me.
I had to call someone. Daniel. I had to tell him about the car. What if there was someone in it who was still alive? I had to get help.
My trembling hands dropped my cell phone twice before I was able to dial. I still didn’t feel completely safe, but I also d
idn’t want to leave. It might be a crime scene. I had to stay.
As I listened to Daniel’s phone ring, my other hand located my can of pepper spray. It wasn’t much, but it made me feel a little better.
Chapter 13
For the second time that night, I was back in the bar. But this time, instead of drinking club soda with lime, a mug of hot coffee, loaded with cream and sugar, was in front of me. My hands cupped it tightly, trying to suck as much warmth out of it as I could. I was so, so cold. My body wouldn’t stop shivering.
It had taken a few minutes for Daniel to calm me down enough for me to tell him where I was. I had been babbling—about the car, the figure, the shadow, the emails—all in one jumbled mess. When he realized I was parked on the side of the road twenty minutes away from him, and that I was alone, he ordered me to return to the bar and wait for him.
“Drive back to the parking lot,” he said. “Now. Park under the lights and wait for me. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I did what he instructed, angling the car so I could see the winding entrance and exit road. I turned the ignition off and sat there, my phone clutched in one hand and my pepper spray in the other, trying to keep my eye on every single person who (and car that) came in or left the parking lot.
It was probably nothing, I told myself. The car had likely been abandoned there for weeks, if not months. The stain was probably nothing. Whatever I saw sticking out of the trunk was surely nothing.
But the blinking flashlight ...
… it was probably just a kid playing a prank, who just happened to be standing by that car, I told myself firmly. That was all.
Chances were, I was wasting Daniel’s time and had worked myself up over nothing. That was the most logical explanation.
Plus, the alternative was terrifying.
But no, I wasn’t going there. I’d just sit and wait for Daniel. And after he debunked all of it, we would have a good laugh. Well, after he yelled at me for being stupid enough to drive twenty minutes away to meet some anonymous person who had been emailing me … much less chase some dark stranger down a deserted and unfamiliar road.
God, it sounded worse the more I said it to myself.
At some point, I realized I had completely forgotten about the pickup truck parked on the side of the road. I sat up and did my best to peer over in the direction I thought it was, but I couldn’t tell if it was there or not.
Of course, the truck was probably a big nothing burger as well.
I was watching a pair of headlines circle around the winding road when my phone rang. “Becca? I’m here,” Daniel said. “Where are you?”
I directed him to where I was parked. He pulled his vehicle up next to mine, and I could see he wasn’t alone. Scott, one of the cops who had helped move my desk into The Studio, was with him.
I opened my door as Daniel stepped out and went to stand next to him. He wore jeans and a plain white tee shirt, and his hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his hands through it as he drove. He also needed a shave. “Show me where you saw it,” he said.
I gestured down the road, explaining how the road branched out and turned to dirt. He nodded as he gazed in the direction I was pointing, his eyes narrowing. The pale moon shimmered high in the sky, more beautiful than helpful, as it provided minimal illumination.
“Have you seen any activity since?” He asked, slapping a mosquito on his arm. “Anyone drive in or out?”
I shook my head. “But as you can see, it’s dark down there. So, if the car lights were off, I may not have seen it.”
He nodded again and ran his hands through his hair. “Do you think you can show me where you found the car?”
I folded my arms against the chill of the summer night. The air smelled wet and green, of trees and long grass, mixed with the very faint scent of fried fish—one of Grand Slam’s specialties. “Yes, you can follow me,” I turned to my car, but he put a hand on my arm.
“I’ll drive,” he said. Firmly. “Go get your purse and lock up.”
I wanted to tell him I was fine, but he looked so determined, I was quite sure he wouldn’t budge. Wordlessly, I got my purse, phone, and pepper spray out of the car, locked it, and joined him in the back of his car.
“You remember Scott,” he said, pulling his seat belt on.
“I’m sorry to do this to both of you,” I said. “I didn’t want to make you come out here like this.”
Daniel grunted as Scott turned to me and smiled. “Part of the job,” he said.
“We’ll talk later,” Daniel said, putting the car in drive.
The tension in the car was so thick, it was practically another living being. I could sense Daniel holding back. I imagined the questions he was probably dying to barrage me with—why was I there? Why was this the first he was hearing of all this? Why hadn’t I gone to him immediately?
As I directed him to the dirt road, I noticed the street was empty. The pickup truck was gone. If it had ever been there in the first place, I thought, as I started to question myself too.
Daniel slowly eased onto the dirt and gravel of the side road. “Becca, what were you thinking?” he muttered, as the car shuddered beneath us. Trees scraped the sides of the car. “Why would you come back here by yourself at night?”
“I didn’t think it was going to be like this,” I said.
“But, why were you back here in the first place?”
“Well, like I said, I saw someone ...”
“You saw someone,” Daniel burst out. “That’s what you were babbling about before? Are you out of your ...”
“About how far did you drive before you saw the parked car?” Scott interrupted, directing a sideways glance at Daniel, who with great effort, closed his mouth.
“Not far,” I said, grateful for the reprieve. I was not at all looking forward to Daniel’s reaction once he heard the full story. “There it is!”
Daniel hit the brakes, and for a moment, there was complete silence as the three of us stared at it. “There,” I said, leaning over the front seat so I could point. “Do you see the smear? And that bit of a fabric dangling from the trunk?”
“I don’t see ... oh wait, now I do,” Scott said.
Daniel put the car in park and sat back. “You’re saying you saw someone back here?”
“In the road,” I said. “There was a figure that disappeared.”
“Did you recognize the figure?”
I swallowed. “No.”
Daniel and Scott were both peering around. “Where was it standing? By the car?”
“I didn’t actually see anyone right here,” I said, trying to explain and feeling more and more like an idiot. “Just a flashlight. I was back there, and I saw a flashlight blink a few times, so I angled the car toward the light and that’s when I saw it.”
Daniel and Scott exchanged a look. It didn’t seem to be a good thing.
“Should we call for backup?” Scott asked.
“Why?” Daniel asked, half-turning toward me to make it clear he was talking to me and not Scott. “Why would you possibly drive back here following some stranger?”
“I ...” I looked down at my hands. “I thought I had seen the figure before.”
“Wait, what? I thought you said you didn’t recognize anyone.”
“I didn’t. But, these past couple of days, I thought I saw a ... well, a shadow I guess, following me.”
A vein in Daniel’s jaw jumped. He appeared to be on the verge of reaching over the backseat to throttle me. “You thought this guy was following you, and you came back here alone?” he barked. “Did it occur to you that maybe, just maybe, it was a trap?”
“I ... well, kind of,” I said. “Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
“Well, I didn’t really think about it until I was already on this road,” I tried to
explain. “By then it was too late, so I thought I’d investigate a bit more.”
“Want me to call it in?” Scott asked again, his hand resting on the radio.
“Why were you even here?” Daniel asked, ignoring him.
“I got an email from someone who said he had proof I was being set up. You know, as Gwyn’s stalker.”
“Gwyn has a stalker?” Scott asked.
“Who emailed you?” Daniel shot back at me.
“I don’t know. I didn’t recognize the email. It just said, ‘friend.’”
“A friend,” Daniel said in disbelief, hitting the steering wheel. “A ‘friend’ emailed you, and you came out here. Alone. That’s just great.”
“Is Gwyn okay?” Scott asked.
“Look, I know I was being stupid,” I said. “I get it. You can yell at me later. But I called you because I was worried. What if someone is trapped in that car? What if he—or she—is still alive, but hurt? We need to do something.”
Daniel shot me an unreadable look.
“Maybe we should call for backup,” Scott said again, his voice uneasy.
Daniel reached out and grabbed something. When he sat back up, I could see it was his gun. “I’ll check it out,” he said grimly. “Call it in. And cover me. You,” he pointed at me, “stay here.”
Scott pressed down on the radio, explaining the situation to dispatch as Daniel fished out a flashlight. He waited until Scott finished before opening the door.
“Be careful,” I said.
He glared at me before stepping out, slamming the door behind him.
I winced. I guess I deserved that.
Scott gave me an apologetic smile before opening the car and getting out as well, one hand holding a flashlight and the other his gun.
Daniel cautiously approached the car, giving it a wide berth at first, before bending down to look underneath it. Satisfied, he peered into each window before jiggling the driver’s door.
“It’s unlocked,” I heard him call out to Scott, his voice muffled. “I’ll pop the trunk.”
“Do you see any signs of anyone?”
“Negative.”
“Watch yourself.”
The Evil That Was Done (Secrets of Redemption Book 3) Page 12
