Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
“ W e had a blowout,” the driver told Willow.
He was a shaken-up young fellow trying hard to pretend he wasn’t. His name was Terrence Clay. “We lost control. I was thrown clear before the car went over. But no, I never saw any other vehicle.”
Willow was in her Quinn County Deputy’s uniform at the top of a ravine. The car at the bottom of the ravine matched the description of the one they were looking for, but this guy wasn’t Angus Silver. A couple of deputies were scrambling down the stony face toward the car.
“Who was your passenger, today?” she asked.
Her uncle the sheriff stood beside and a half-step behind her, a six-foot-four-inch reason to take her seriously.
“My boss, Angus Silver,” the driver said. He was a short guy who spent too much time in the gym. “But actually, I was the passenger.”
She hadn’t seen that coming. “Your boss was driving?” Willow glanced over at Garrett, but his expression never changed, so she kept hers stoic, too, and focused on the witness. “That’s weird, isn’t it?”
“Not for him. He gets in the mood to drive sometimes.” He thinned his lips, shook his head slightly. “Frankly, he’s not a very good driver.”
He was holding his right arm with his left hand. His suit jacket and matching pants were scuffed at the elbows and knees, and there was a tear in his white shirt right under the collar.
She shot a look at her uncle, and he nodded at her to go on. “We had a report your employer made threats against a local business owner earlier tonight. You know anything about that?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, rubbing his elbow. “Mr. Silver keeps his business matters private.”
“Why don’t you take me through your time in Quinn? You think you can do that?”
“Yes, ma’am, I sure can. I drove him to a cantina that looked to be closed. He talked to somebody there for five minutes or so…big guy, dark hair. Then we left.”
“And who was drivin’ at that point?”
He nodded. “He wanted to drive, so I hopped in the back before we left the cantina. Then we headed home.”
“And where is home, Mister Clay?”
“El Paso,” he said. “I have one of Mr. Silver’s cards…
” He reached around for his wallet, then winced and continued more slowly.
Eventually he extracted a business card.
It was black with silver foil letters that spelled out the last name.
SILVER. It had a cell number on the reverse.
A lot of space for a little information.
She heard a shout and looked down over the drop to where her uncle Lash, the chief deputy, was pulling a limp form from the vehicle, which had landed upside down in the creek. He looked up at her, shook his head side to side.
Angus Silver was dead.
An ambulance pulled in and medics scrambled down the ravine, breaking her line of sight.
Garrett was looking at the marks in the dirt, but it was hard-packed, not damp enough to keep good impressions. Still, he was frowning as if something was off. She looked where he was looking.
“Looks like he drove straight off,” Garrett said to the driver, “How fast was he goin’?”
“Prob’ly a little too fast, to be honest.”
Willow’s phone started pinging as the crew below took photos and uploaded them to their secure site. As each notification appeared she clicked through to see the images.
Behind her, a fresh set of medics were trying to get the driver to let them look him over, while he kept saying he was fine.
She scrolled through the photos and saw the shots of the Caddy.
It had rolled all the way down the steep drop, but one side had vastly more damage than the other.
She spread the photo larger, moving over every inch of it.
And then she blinked and tried to zoom further.
But it wouldn’t get larger, so she pulled out her radio, and keyed the mic.
“Uncle Lash—Deputy Monroe,” she corrected quickly. “Is there brown paint on that passenger side, rear door?”
“Stand by,” he replied, and she watched as he moved to that side, hunkered low, and looked close. “Good eye,” he said. “I’ll scrape a little off for you.”
She glanced toward the ambulance. They’d argued Terrence Clay inside.
The medic reached to close the doors, but she moved in and grabbed on to hold them open, then leaned into the back.
“It looks like another vehicle hit that Cadillac, Mr. Clay. There’s brown paint on the more heavily damaged side.
You want to change your statement that there was no other vehicle involved? ”
“Brown?” He blinked. “Paint?” He blinked again.
Not the brightest bulb, was he? “Oh, yeah, right, right. That was a minor fender-bender, just the other day. Such a small thing I didn’t even report it.
Intended to buff out the dings myself. I do a bit of body work on the side, you know.
That vehicle was brown, as I recall, so…
” He lifted his hands to his sides, then lay back on his gurney.
The medic looked at her. “Okay?”
She let go of the door. “Yeah. Go.”
He closed the doors and went around front to get behind the wheel.
As the ambulance trundled away, Willow turned to her uncle Garrett and said, “What do you think?”
He pushed his hat back farther back on his head, crossed his arms over his chest. “I think he was lyin’.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” she said. Then she heaved a big sigh. “Looks like Lily’s probably safe for the night. But I been textin’ the gals. We She-Brands are headin’ over there to keep her comp’ny, just in case.”
Garrett’s smile was half a mile wide. “Sounds like just the ticket to me.”
Lily was bored. The afternoon had waned into evening, and Ethan hadn’t come back, or even called. Her dad was spending the night over at Cat’s, after their square-dancing lesson. The sparkle had returned to his eyes. She had Cat to thank for it.
She was happy for her dad but feeling lonesome and angry with herself for feeling that way. So she’d decided to make the best of the night. She’d already accomplished the relaxing bath part of the plan, even though it had been interrupted by Ethan in a near-panic, thinking she was in danger.
It gave her a warm feeling, remembering that.
She’d got dressed after, but she didn’t stay that way long.
She’d since changed into her softest, fluffiest pajamas—light-gray plush with pink.
Then she pulled on her thickest socks and put her hair into a ponytail with a thick scrunchy Drew had told her was out of style.
To which Lily had replied, “Scrunchies forever!” and they’d laughed together.
She really loved her cousins-in-law. Maybe Ethan had a point about a relationship between them messing with the family.
She settled onto the sofa and reached for the remote, and when she aimed it at the TV, someone knocked on her door as if in response.
Frowning, and immediately thinking about the threats against her today—by a dead man, she reminded herself.
Garrett had updated her a little while ago.
Angus Silver was no threat anymore. He’d left the cantina all pissed off, had a blowout, and wound up at the bottom of a ravine, according to Ethan’s uncle the sheriff.
She turned the TV off and went to the door, peeked through the glass pane, then smiled all the way to her toes and pulled the door open.
All three Brand cousines yelled, “slumber party!” and Lily burst out laughing.
They came crowding in, her sister-in-law Maria, and Ethan’s other two gorgeous female cousins, Willow and Drew, opposites in every way.
They were like day and night, Willow with her copper skin and raven hair, Drew with her porcelain and blonde.
They all carried canvas grocery bags and wore long sweaters or hoodies in deference to the chilly night.
Lily closed the door as they headed for the kitchen, chattering all the way.
“Heard your dad’s at his new girlfriend’s for the night,” Drew began.
“So we figured the timing was perfect for a get-together,” Willow continued.
“And we brought goodies,” Maria concluded.
They set their bags down on the counter and shed their coats and sweaters.
Underneath, they were all wearing pajamas.
Drew’s were Barbie? -themed, the fashion doll having recently earned her stripes as a feminist icon.
Drew had memorized the film’s America Ferrera monologue about being a woman.
Willow’s pajamas were plain and blue, and Maria’s were white and looked as if she’d borrowed them from Harrison.
In fact, there was an HH embroidered on the pocket.
She saw Lily notice. She said, “What? At this point in my marriage, all my jammies are naughty,” and everyone laughed.
“We heard you had a rough day,” Maria went on, sending Lily a smile. The grocery bag she’d brought in was insulated and held ice cream and soft drinks. She unpacked them and put them into the fridge and freezer.
“And we’re also aware that our cousin’s an idiot,” Drew put in. She’d brought multiple varieties of junk food, chips, and pre-made dips. There were Oreo cookies and peanut butter cups, God help her. Oh, and chocolate syrup and sprinkles. Okay, she got it. The evening would include making sundaes.
“Don’t be speculating about me and Ethan,” Lily said. “There’s absolutely nothing going on.”
Willow’s laugh came through her nose because she clapped a hand over her mouth.
The others just let it rip. They stopped giggling when she scowled at them, though.
Then Willow wiggled her eyebrows and started taking glasses from the cabinet, lining them on the counter, adding ice, and pouring booze.
“We never celebrated your career change,” Maria said, then muttered, “or even discussed it.”
Lily lowered her head. “I was…embarrassed to admit I couldn’t hack it, to be honest,” she admitted.
Willow shoved a drink into her hand. “Look up,” she said.
She looked up while taking a long drink. The three cousins were surrounding her, looking her in the eye.