19. Claire
CHAPTER 19
Claire
I was so ready for this day to end. My leg throbbed. So did my head. I probably could have alleviated the leg pain if I’d bothered to use both of my crutches today, but they got in my way, so I continued to only use one. Coupled with a restless night thanks to the way Ozzie and I parted ways at the airport and the hunger gnawing at my stomach, I was cranky .
Leaning forward, I peered through the windshield, like that would make the road I needed magically appear.
Where was it?
Lifting my foot off the gas, I glanced at my phone.
Still no bars.
I really should have left when the client did, but no. Silly me wanted to take more photos of the view.
Now it was dark, I couldn’t see any of the landmarks I noted on the way in, and I had no phone signal to pull up a map.
Getting lost in the bush was not on my to-do list this evening.
My headlights illuminated an intersection.
“Oh! Yay!” I came to a stop, then put the car in park and turned on the overhead light, reaching into the backseat for the paper map I kept in the car. There weren’t many crossroads in the area. I might be able to figure out where I was.
Studying the map, I traced the faint lines indicating dirt roads and found the house I was at earlier. From there, I tried to figure out where I went wrong.
“Ha!” I stabbed the map with my index finger. “There it is. I knew I missed a turn.” Laying it on the passenger seat, I put the car in gear and did a U-turn in the intersection. I remembered now where the turn was. It was overgrown and easy to miss in the dark.
Pausing a couple of times to look at the map again, I finally made it back to the area near the road I missed. With my foot barely on the gas, I crawled forward, brights on, eyes glued to the trees on my left.
After five minutes at a snail’s pace, I started to wonder if I’d missed it again.
How, I didn’t know. I’d scarcely blinked.
My lights glinted off something in the trees. I slowed further and squinted into the dark.
“What is that?”
I braked, peering into the heavy evergreen branches.
It looked like a car. But there was no road there.
Shifting into park, I got out and hobbled around the back of my vehicle to get the flashlight from my emergency kit in the cargo well.
The light came on with a click. I swept the forest with the beam, looking for any large animals, then, cognizant of my booted foot, I took my crutch from the backseat before I stepped off the edge of the road and into the woods.
It was slow-going, and the throb through my lower leg intensified, but I kept moving.
Just past the first line of trees, my light bounced off a silver BMW X5 about fifty feet away. “Whoa. How did that get here?” Slowly picking my way forward, I passed the flashlight beam over the area around it as I neared. Behind the car, tire tracks ran through the undergrowth and disappeared into the darkness. Someone must have driven in from another road.
But why was it here?
I walked around it, looking for signs of life. It was a nice vehicle. Only a couple of years old, if that. Scratches marred the paint from its drive through the bush, but it otherwise looked okay. Footprints led away from the driver’s door. They went toward the road where I left my car.
Aiming the light at the windows, I peered inside.
It was spotless. Like it had just come off the dealership lot.
Was it stolen? That could be why it was out here. The thieves had taken it for a joyride, then ditched it.
Another thought struck me.
Could it be Warren Hammond’s car? I didn’t know what he drove. But I knew he and his vehicle were missing, and that he had expensive taste.
I chewed on the corner of my mouth, eyeing the area with new eyes. If this was Warren’s car, did that mean he was nearby?
Immediately, I dashed that thought. Judging by the tire tracks, the car hadn’t moved in days, and there weren’t any buildings close by he could be holed up in. Only the cabin and hunting property I was just contracted to sell were nearby, and there was no sign someone had been hiding out there when the man showed me the property. The owner had a couple of small hunting stands set up in the woods, too, but they were little more than boards nailed to a frame to keep out the wind while a hunter waited. Completely unsuitable for someone to live in.
Scanning the ground around the car, I noted some areas where the snow and foliage beneath were trampled. Some of it right outside the driver’s door. Beyond that, it was hard to tell. Whoever left the car here could have walked in the tire tracks back to the road.
I backed away from the vehicle. I needed to find a phone signal and call Oscar.
My brain shouted at me to hurry. That this was creepy, and I needed to get to safety, but I forced myself to take careful steps and use the crutch for balance. Walking in this boot wasn’t easy.
Finally, leaving the woods, I glanced back, and a thought struck me. How would I find this spot again? I couldn’t put a pin in the map on my phone, because I didn’t have a signal.
The branches waving in the wind gave me an idea. Clicking off the flashlight, I opened the driver’s door and tossed it onto the seat, then opened the rear passenger door and leaned inside to rummage in my giant tote bag. The scarf I wore to town on Saturday was still in it. I took it off before finishing my errands. It made me too hot.
My fingers touched soft, cool fabric. “Found you.” Grinning to myself, I pulled it out, then made my way to the tree line and picked a branch that stuck out away from the others.
“Oh, I’m glad Dad taught me how to tie good knots,” I mumbled.
With the scarf secure, I returned to my car and climbed in. Shifting into gear, I glanced at the clock, making a mental note of the time. I’d stay at a steady speed until I found the road, then note the time again as an added way to mark where the vehicle was.
I drove another two minutes down the road, then spotted the road cut.
“Thank goodness!” Turning, I picked up speed, keeping an eye on the signal bars mirrored on my infotainment screen from my phone.
When two appeared, I braked, throwing the car into park.
“Please work,” I whispered as I dialed Ozzie’s number.
With each soft trill, I drummed my fingers faster on the steering wheel.
On the fourth ring, his deep baritone came through the car’s speakers.
“Detective Quartermaine.”
I could hear the distraction in his voice.
“Ozzie, it’s Claire.”
“Claire? Is everything all right?” The distracted tone quickly disappeared. “You sound upset.”
“Not upset. Just… weirded out. I found something I think you should see. If I give you directions, can you meet me?”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Um…”
I heard papers rustling.
“Sure. What’s going on?”
“What kind of car does Warren Hammond drive?”
His sharp intake of breath was loud in the confines of the car. “You found a car? Where?”
“In the woods. Near the property I’m getting ready to list. It’s a silver BMW X5.”
“Of all the…” He stopped and drew in a breath. “Warren drives the same car. Did you touch it?”
“No. Just looked in the windows. It’s empty.” Thank goodness common sense kicked in when I was in the woods. Having my fingerprints on the vehicle wouldn’t be a good thing. I found Marie’s body and now Warren’s car. What were the odds?
“Good. Keep it that way. Give me those directions you mentioned.”
“I’ll text you a pin to my location. I think you should have enough signal to get you this far. I had to drive a bit to call you.”
“Okay. Stay put. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
The line clicked, and the infotainment screen returned to the main screen.
I picked up my phone and dropped a pin in my location, then texted it to him.
A gust of wind blasted the side of my car. I glanced through the windshield at the dark sky. Nothing much was visible thanks to the heavy cloud cover. Another storm system was on the way, and the heaviness of promised snow hung in the air. Even my headlights had a hard time cutting through the darkness.
Normally, I wasn’t one to be afraid in the bush at night. But this evening was different. The specter of what that car could mean loomed over everything.
Was someone lurking in the woods?
Watching?
Waiting?
A shiver ran down my spine. The car locks had disengaged when I parked, so I stabbed the button to lock them again.
My theories were far-fetched, but not out of the realm of possibility.
It was better to be safe than sorry.