She excused herself and went to the powder room where she made the call to her family. Her mother answered the phone, and Cait settled on the toilet to give her the bare details.
“Don’t bother coming up here,” she said, finishing the call. “There’s a huge storm blowing in. Supposed to dump more than fifteen inches of snow.”
She hung up despite the chorus of protests over the speakerphone. Knowing her family, she’d just baited them to barrel into the van and storm to the rescue.
Hopefully, the sheriff would close off the roads before any more people got hurt.
Hopefully, Glen had found shelter and wasn’t out there looking for his dogs.
Hopefully, Brian wouldn’t hate her for telling the sheriff that he’d had thirty to forty minutes to rig the car.
But if he had put a slow leak into the brake lines, where did this leave her?
