Unfortunately, for Vienna, she can’t say the same.
“The tow truck should be here any minute,” another officer says as she approaches us. Once she’s close enough for me to see her face, I recognize her as Sage Nelson, one of the few women working for the Bliss PD.
A sharp gust of wind slams into us, and Vienna stumbles back a step from the force of it. My hand shoots out to brace against her back, steadying her. I can feel her body trembling from the cold, and I’m hit by an unexpected urge to pull her into my arms to warm her.
I don’t, of course. Instead, I turn my attention to Officer Nelson and ask sharply, “How much longer do we need to be out here? It’s been close to an hour already.”
Officer Nelson exchanges a quick glance with the other officer, who I’ve never seen before. But based on the way he’s been talking to Vienna, I don’t like him.
“We have to get a full account of the accident and the events leading up to it,” the male officer—Officer Hannigan, I think he said earlier—replies.
“It’s freezing out,” I start. “Surely?—”
“We’re wrapping things up very soon,” Officer Nelson interrupts. She flashes Vienna a sympathetic smile. “I know this isn’t pleasant. Do you want to sit in the patrol car while you wait for us to finish up?”
Vienna shakes her head quickly. “No. I’m fine.”
She doesn’t look fine to me. She looks cold and miserable and on the verge of tears. “Vienna,” I say, “why don’t you sit in the car? It’ll be a lot warmer.”
“Doyouwant to sit in the car?” she asks. “You must be cold, too.”
As if I’d sit in the warmth of the car while Vienna stands out here, freezing? “I’m good,” I tell her. “I just don’t want you getting frostbite.”
With a wan smile, she lifts her mittens to display. “They’re insulated. So is my coat. And my boots. I’m okay.”
Or maybe she doesn’t like the idea of sitting in the back of a patrol car, which could intimidate anyone. Especially when Officer Hannigan has been treating Vienna like a criminal instead of an innocent victim.Poor Vienna might be imagining herself locked inside the car, being read her rights as she’s dragged off to the station.
Strobe-like lights approach from the north, signaling the arrival of the tow truck. Or more accurately, two tow trucks, since both Vienna’s car and the tractor trailer need to be towed. “Looks like they’re here,” Officer Nelson says unnecessarily. She gives Vienna another quick smile. “They’ll take your car to Ellicott’s Engines. It’s the closest repair shop to here.”
Vienna edges closer to me. “Is it in Bliss?”
“It is,” Officer Nelson replies. “And I know the owner. Max Ellicott. He’s a good guy, and he’ll be straight with you about your car.” Her voice lowers slightly. “He won’t treat you differently just because you’re a woman. Not like some places will.”
Max is another long-time local, and we actually played on the same Little League team when we were kids. Though I haven’t talked to him in nearly a year—not since I had my truck serviced—I make a mental note to call him first thing in the morning to ask him to make Vienna’s car a priority.
“It’s probably totalled,” Officer Hannigan comments while turning to gesture at Vienna’s car. “Front end all mashed up like that? You’ll need a new engine for sure. Probably a new transmission as well. And with the structural damage…” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t pin your hopes on it being repairable.”
Vienna flinches like she’s been struck. Her chin wobbles again. “Oh.” Her voice is achingly small. “I’llhave to call the insurance company when I get…” She trails off, looking even more miserable than before.
“We can give you a ride to town,” Officer Nelson says. She gives Officer Hannigan a pointed glare. “And we don’t knowwhatthe condition of your car is since we’re not mechanics. Max can go over everything once he’s looked at it.”
Though I’m pissed at Officer Hannigan for being so blunt, I can’t argue with his assessment. I might not be a mechanic, like Max Ellicott, but I restore old snowmobiles, so I know enough about the inner workings of vehicles. And I’d put money on Vienna’s car being a total loss.
Another gust picks up the snow falling around us, turning it into a whirl of white. When it settles, Vienna’s eyelashes are dusted with snowflakes and there’s a fresh layer of snow on her coat. “So,” I urge, “we’re wrapping things up?”
Vienna flashes me a quick look of gratitude.
Officer Nelson looks over at the tow truck driver, who’s now attaching a chain to the back of Vienna’s car. “I’d say so.” She pauses. “Vienna, do you need to get anything from your car before he takes it?”
“Oh, yes.” Vienna holds her purse out to me. “Could you hold this? While I get the bags from my car? Since I don’t have a strap anymore…”
“I can hold it,” Officer Nelson starts.
But I don’t want her to. For some odd reason, I want to accept this small gesture of trust. “I’ve got it.” I take the purse and tuck it under my arm. “I promise not to steal anything. Not with the police right here.”
Vienna stares at me for a second. Her lips curve up. “No, I guess you wouldn’t.” Then she ducks her head and hurries across the road to her car.
Once she’s gone, I turn to Officer Hannigan. In the same commanding tone I used to use in the Marines, I say, “I don’t want to hear about Vienna being charged with some bullshit traffic violation. She was on the shoulder of the road. Her hazards were on. She was trying to help a damn dog lost in a snowstorm. She didn’t do anything wrong. Got it?”
