“He’s dead because of me.”
Clint hesitated at the door. “Who’s dead because of you?”
“Keith,” Baker said, his voice feeble. “I called him a coward, told him he should just kill himself and get it over with for what he’d done ... or I’d make him wish he had.”
This conversation wasn’t going to make sense until Baker was sober. But something had gone down between him and Turner before he died.
Right now, Clint had to find Emily.
9:00 p.m.
Clint drove around for hours with no luck. He finally returned to the inn. She hadn’t come back there either.
He’d gone by her parents’ house and the houses of all her friends, at least the ones he knew about. She wasn’t anywhere. Her cell went straight to voicemail each of the dozens of times he’d called. Fear had his heart pumping double time. He was calling Caruthers. Emily wouldn’t just disappear like this.
He crossed the room and reached for the phone but hesitated when the message light blinked at him. He snatched it up and punched the necessary buttons for retrieving the message.
“Clint . . .”
It was Emily. Her voice sounded shaky.
“I’m at the hospital. Can you come when you get this message, please? I need you.”
52
10:00 p.m.
Emily just wanted to get out of this damned hospital.
“You’re sure it’s okay to leave?”
She was just about to lose her patience with Clint. “Yes. That’s why they released me. I’m fine.”
“But you have a concussion.”
“Let’s go, Clint.” She’d had enough trouble talking the doctor out of keeping her overnight. She had to get out of here. She and Clint were on to something and it wouldn’t wait until tomorrow. Someone had attacked her in Troy’s garage. She wasn’t ready to believe it was Troy, but she had to face the fact that he might have been involved.
Clint kept his arm around her waist as he gently guided her to his truck, then helped her inside.
“I don’t like this,” he muttered.
“I’m fine,” she repeated. No thanks to whoever had tried to kill her. She shuddered.
Someone tried to kill me.
Clint looked at her a long moment, then closed the door.
He hurried around the hood and slid behind the wheel.
“Tell me what happened.” He started the engine and backed out of the parking slot.
“Troy called.” She hadn’t been able to talk to Clint around all the hospital staff.
“I know that part,” Clint said tightly.
“I went into the garage to try and get into the house since he didn’t answer the front door, and someone ambushed me. Drove me and my car out to Route Ten.”
Clint’s silence told her he was fuming.
