“The dead man in my apartment?” he replied blandly, but shesawthe flicker of irritation. Whether at her or the murder she wasn’t sure, but emotion felt like progress.
Before she could continue to convince him they needed to turn back around and head away from Hope TownandBent, he swore viciously.
He was glaring at the road, so Franny looked out. There was a car on the opposite side coming toward them. Why did it look familiar? But she couldn’t consider that, because she realized the car was not driving on its side of the street.
“Royal, is that car…” The car kept goingfaster, and it wasclearlyin their lane, heading right toward them.
“Hold on, Franny.”
She gripped the door, because there was no way that car was not careening right toward them. She squeezed her eyes shut, braced for some kind of impact even as Royal jerked the wheel and tried to avoid the collision.
But she felt the impact, the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass exploding around her as the car seemed to move at a completely bizarre angle. Franny jerked against her seatbelt at the impact, but holding on to the door and the odd angle of the force of collision kept her from bashing her head against anything.
But they kept…moving. Spinning? Something hit the back of her head, but it was all kind of surreal. She tried to open her eyes, but the force of everything made it impossible to do anything but tense her entire body and wait for it all to be over.
Finally, the car stopped moving. Once she realized that, Franny opened her eyes. They’d twisted around so they were facing the wrong way. The collision must have happened to the back end of the car because the front end looked perfectly fine. Which meant they were okay. They could be okay even though the airbags hadn’t gone off.
She frowned at that. They should have, shouldn’t they? That had been a hell of a jolt, even if it had been to the back of the car. Oh well, as long as they were okay.
“Roy—” She looked toward him. He was crumpled over the steering wheel.
He wasn’t moving.
Panic speared through her, and she lunged for him, but she was held in place by the seatbelt. “Royal. Royal.Royal!” She slapped at her seatbelt, desperate to get it off, to get over to him. He wasn’t moving.
Why hadn’t any airbags gone off? Why wasn’t hemoving?
She managed to get the seatbelt out of her way, but now that she’d had enough time to think, she was scared to try to move him. What if he’d hurt his neck or spine? If she moved him to see what was wrong, she’d make it worse. Wouldn’t she?
She wouldn’t let her mind go there. “It’s okay, Royal. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.” She said it more for her benefit than his, because it kept the panic from turning into hysterics.
She fumbled with her phone. Since her text to Copeland was still open on the screen, she just hit the call button at the top. He’d have a better idea of where they were to send help rather than trying to explain her location to a 911 dispatcher.
With shaking hands and her teeth chattering, she reached out with her free hand and grabbed Royal’s wrist. She knew how to find a pulse, and a pulse would mean everything could be okay.
“Franny? I can’t talk right now.”
“Cope…” She thought she felt a pulse. Didn’t she? The steady thump of life? Or was she hallucinating?
Copeland’s voice in her ear was kind of a buzz.
“We…had an accident.” She was pretty sure she got those words out. It was weird. She didn’t think she’d hit her head, but it was kind of aching now. And her words didn’t…sound right.
She sucked in a breath, trying to focus. Royal needed help. He had a pulse. She wasdeterminedhe had a pulse. So she needed help.
But before she could manage to put those words together, the passenger door flung open. A woman stood there. For a blinding moment of pure hope, Franny thought they were saved.
Then she saw the woman’s sharp smile and remembered that a car had been careeningatthem. And if it hadn’t been someone’s medical event that led to the dangerous speed and direction, it had been done very much on purpose.
Considering there was a dead body in Royal’s apartment, well… .
“God, this couldn’t be more perfect.” The woman laughed, actuallylaughed. “Well, F.M. Perkins, come on out. We’ve got places to go.”
She must not have seen the phone in Franny’s hand. Franny’s body and face might be blocking it. For a moment of pure adrenaline and clarity, Franny knew that she would need her phone.
She swallowed, angling her body even farther and doing everything she could to shove the phone—the call with Copeland still going—into her pocket without the woman seeing.
“Damn, that’s a hell of a party trick,” the woman said, which made absolutely no sense to Franny. The woman must have read that in her expression. “You’ve got a shard of glass really lodged in there.” She said, pointing at the back of Franny’s head.
