I put my hazard lights on and pulled across the road, right behind the car, then climbed out and ran over. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath until I saw the car was empty and I exhaled shakily. Doors and windows locked, no sign of thedriver.
I grabbed my cell phone from my pocket and called Marci while I climbed back into thetruck.
“Marci, you had any reports of an accident on the Camden road in the last couple hours?” I knew for a fact that car hadn’t been there when I’d driven pastearlier.
“Not a one.Why?”
“I found a car wrapped around a tree about a mile east of the townline.”
“Animal hit? Or drunkdriver?”
“No sign of an injured animal,” I told her. “And no sign of the driver at all. Car might be totaled. Airbagdeployed.”
She whistled. “Want me to ring Joe Cross and see if he got a call for apickup?”
Joe was pretty much the only tow truck driver in the three-town area that included Camden, O’Leary, and Rushton to the west. “Do that,” I confirmed. “And if he hasn’t gotten one, ask him to come get it.” I gave her the make, model, and licensenumber.
“You got it. Oh, and I did manage to talk to Mitch finally, just a minute ago.” She sounded apologetic. “He said he’d head out to Frank and Myrna’s,so…”
So,nothing. I spared Reggie one last thought and then waved him goodbye. Now I had to find the damn Toyotadriver.
Turned out, it didn’t require much investigation. I found the asshole half a mile down the road, carrying some suitcase-thing and lurching along in a kind of shuffle-step, like he was three sheets to thewind.
Anger clogged mythroat.
The guy stopped when he saw my headlights and turned around to watch me, shielding his eyes from the glare. He looked younger than one of Marci’s kids, barely out of his teens. An arrogant, entitled tourist who thought he was invincible, and could have taken out any number of innocent people when he found outdifferently.
I shoved the truck into park when I was about ten feet behind him and jumpedout.
“What the fuck do you think you’redoing?”
“Huh?” The kid straightened, trying to meet my eyes, and honest to God, he practically fell at my feet. It was a wonder he’d managed to climb out of his Toyota in the first place, let alone make it a quarter mile down theroad.
I grabbed my badge from my pocket and flashed it at him. “O’Leary Police. How much have you had to drink?” Idemanded.
“Pardon?” The kid’s voice was high, like he was scared. Scared he’d gottencaught.
“You heard me. That was your car back there, wasn’t it?” I hooked my thumb behind me. “Blue Toyota? Wrapped around a giant oaktree?”
“Y-yes,” he agreed,frowning.
“And you were thedriver?”
“Yes, I was driving.” I couldn’t make out much in the glare from my headlights, but his eyes looked red and bleary, his face scraped raw from theairbag.
“Uh huh. Wanna explain to me how you went sailing all the way across the road to accomplish that feat of automotivegymnastics?”
He glared at me for a moment, then licked his lips nervously and set his jaw. “No.”
No. What apunk.
“Right,” I said. “Well, step this way, kiddo. You can take a breathalyzer and I’ll be able to solve that mystery without your explanation.” I grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him towards mytruck.
“Breath-a… Wait.” The kid shrugged out of my grasp. “Wait! Do you think I wasdrinking?”
“Are you saying youweren’t?”
“God, no,” he said, so vehemently that it actually gave me pause. “What the hell made you thinkthat?”
