“What’s wrong? What hurts?”
“Nothing,” I groaned.
“Right. You’re perfectly okay. Your face is just smooshed that way from the accident.”
There was really nothing I could say to ease her concerns. I must look like I’d been hit by a train.
“It’s just gonna take time to heal.”
“Yes, but right now, you need rest, and you won’t get that if you’re in pain.”
She spun around, stomping toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the nurse,” she said over her shoulder as she yanked openthe door. “I’m going to have you so drugged up, you won’t know your own name.”
Jeff barked out a laugh as she swooped out in a flurry of crazy only Bailey could pull off.
But the moment she was gone, any humor I was feeling fled me. “Jeff, I need you to contact Sheriff Wynne.”
“Why? You want to see what can be salvaged?” he grinned.
“The brakes were cut. I’m sure of it.”
His demeanor went from playful to pissed off in two seconds flat. “Tell me what happened.”
“I was headed to the gas station. The car in front of me stopped, but when I hit the brakes, nothing happened. I had my foot all the way down, and…” I shook my head, my memories vague after that. “I was sideswiped as I tried to avoid a collision. The rest is a mess.”
“You’re sure?”
“What else could it be? And you fucking know Bailey wouldn’t let her vehicle go without basic maintenance. Hell, that beater of hers ran better than most new vehicles.
“Damn,” he sighed, running his hand over his jaw in thought. “But…”
“It had to be that fucker Austin. He had her cornered the other day at the shop.”
“Yeah, but that would suggest he was interested in her. Why would he?—”
“Because he’s a twisted fucker. He hasn’t gone near Bailey once, but then he cornered her, and he was waiting outside her apartment when I picked her up.”
He slumped in the chair, the gravity of the information too much for him. I could see the anger and guilt in his eyes, but this wasn’t his fault.
“This is not on you.”
His head snapped up in fury. “Yeah? Then who else should we blame? That accident was my fault.”
“No, it was Clay’s fault. He got behind the wheel,” I argued. “It was a stupid fucking drag race that went wrong.”
“Still…”
There was no convincing him, so I let him stew in his anger for another minute. “I need you to get to Wynne and find proof that the brakes were tampered with.”
“And until he can prove it?”
That was a good question. “I need to get out of here.”
He snorted in amusement. “Yeah, I’m sure they’ll release you right now.”
