“No one.”
“Tell Tripp I’m on my way.ETA twenty minutes.”
“Roger that.Oh, and Sheriff?Better call in a wrecker.Willow’s car is pancaked at the bottom of the cliff.”
FIFTY-THREE
R
afe spent the drive getting an ambulance and a team organized, which required calling in some off-duty deputies to help him out.Arriving on scene, he saw Tripp’s truck when he made the turnoff and rounded the bend.It was angled across the road.
Earl’s truck was parked against the forest side, flashers on.He was standing next to the cab, arms folded when Rafe pulled up.
“Where are they?”he asked when he got out of his vehicle.His deputy parked behind him and scrambled to get the road blocked off to begin securing the scene.
“Willow’s in here,” Earl answered, nodding toward the passenger side of his truck.“Tripp’s got Lassiter just over there.”He pointed down the road and into the woods.“Wanted to keep him out of Willow’s line of sight.”
Made sense.“Anyone hurt?”
“Lassiter is,” he said with a feral smile.
“How bad?”
“Still breathing, and he can walk.So, not bad enough.”
Not bothering to respond to that, Rafe hurried over to the passenger side of Earl’s truck.Willow lowered the window and gave him a weak smile, bundled up in a navy blue sweatshirt with a gold Marine Corps logo Earl must have given her.Rufus sat next to her on the front seat.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi yourself.Are you okay?”She’d been through hell.
She nodded, pale and subdued.“Tripp’s got?—”
“I heard.He alright?”
“He took a slice to the forearm.Earl put a bandage on it.I’m not sure if it’s still bleeding, but it might need stitches.”
