“Here you go.” The guy handed over Simon’s phone, which he’d dropped when he was flung to the ground.
“Damn.” The screen was cracked and the display didn’t light up when he pressed the button.
“Sorry, looks like it’s broken, buddy.”
It didn’t take long for the cops to arrive. No sirens, just the car pulling up and the familiar face of Duncan, hauling his large bulk from its interior.
“Simon?”
“Hey.”
“What happened?” Duncan asked as he took in the scene.
“I’m not really sure. A car—”
“A car ran him over,” the old lady said.
“No, that’s not quite right,” the young guy interjected. “A car hit the shopping cart, which knocked this guy over.”
“Is that what happened, Simon?”
“You two know each other?” the store manager interrupted.
Duncan gave Simon a quick once-over, as if checking him for injuries, before directing his attention to the manager. “You’re from the store? The one who called us in?”
The man nodded. “Robert Cook. I’m the evening manager here.”
Duncan pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket as he introduced himself. He noted a couple of things down before turning back to Simon. “Do you need medical attention?” He didn’t argue when Simon denied needing any treatment, instead turning back to Robert. “Did you witness what happened?”
Robert shook his head. “No. A customer came running into the store, which is what brought me out here.”
“And you, ma’am, did you see the incident?” The lady nodded. Duncan gathered names and personal details from her and the man who’d stopped to help. He asked about the time of the incident and the specifics of what they’d seen. Unfortunately, neither witness had got the details of the car, let alone the registration plate. The only thing that was clear was that the car was actually a small van, dark in color, with some sort of faded logo on the side. The manager headed back inside the store to see what CCTV footage would be available, but he didn’t hold much hope that they would have captured this part of the parking lot even if the video was operating.
Simon stood watching as Duncan surveyed the scene, noting the damage to the cart and the positioning. He snapped a few photos for good measure. “Well, I think that’s about it.” Duncan snapped the notebook shut. “Do you need a ride home, Simon?”
Simon shook his head, slowly coming out of his stupor. The events of the last half hour or so seemed surreal. “No, I’ll be fine. My car’s right over there.” He pointed to his sedan, which was parked not too far away.
“And your arm?”
“It’s fine. Plus the car’s an automatic so I should be okay to drive. It’s not far to go anyway.”
“All right. Well, so long as you’re sure. I’ll be in contact when I get some more information.”
“I’m sure it was just an accident, someone eager to get home on a Friday night and start their weekend. They probably just didn’t see me crossing the parking lot.”
“That may be, but they still should have stopped, not left the scene of an accident. Leave it with me, and I’ll be in touch. I’m going to duck inside to see how Mr. Cook is going with the video footage. You’re sure you’re all right?”
He tried for levity. “Sure. There’s no point crying over spilled milk, right?”
Duncan didn’t return his smile, just looked at the spreading white puddle on the pavement before meeting Simon’s gaze and slowly shaking his head. “Just take care, okay?”
Simon watched Duncan walk away, escorting the older lady to her car on his way. He bent and picked up the roses.
“Do you want me to carry this to the car for you?” The young man held what he’d managed to retrieve of Simon’s groceries. He grasped the torn bags awkwardly, trying not to spill their contents again.
Simon offered a small smile. “Thanks. That’d be great. And listen, I really appreciate you stopping. I’m sure you have much better things to do on a Friday night.” Given his tight jeans and leather jacket worn over skintight T-shirt, and the hour, Simon assumed he was heading out. They walked across the lot.
“It wasn’t a problem, honestly. I had no plans other than to grab a sandwich to eat and then go home and study.” He glanced at the bags in his hands. “Looked like you had something more than a sandwich planned.”
