Chapter 7 #3
“No.” Harvey shook his head. “But I don’t think that would be too hard to cover up.” He patted the hood of the truck. “Especially given the professional level of work it took to strip this truck of any defining marks, I’m sure whoever did it knew how to cover their tracks.”
“You think it was taken to a chop shop to strip it before they used it to hit both of Dr. Vernon’s cars?” Margo looked at Harvey.
“Maybe.” Harvey shrugged. “Or it was just someone who knows how to do it. It’s not that hard.”
“So they stole Lucy’s accident-damaged truck,” Holt went over the details.
“They took the bumpers from Lucy’s truck and put them on a chop-shopped look-alike, then backed into Judy’s car.
Then they kidnapped Judy, knocked her out, put her in her car, drove to Hollow Pond, and then rammed the car down the embankment.
” Holt frowned. “Then why ditch the truck in a field?”
“Because the truck blew a gasket and stopped working, so all they could do was ditch it,” Harvey told them. “The tow guys told me it had been covered by a tarp, so I’m thinking whoever did this was coming back to fix it and then get it back here.”
“But there’s no rollover damage on the truck,” June pointed out.
“That would be easy to fix,” Harvey told her. “When you’ve already gone to this level of deceit, I’m sure they would’ve fixed that.” He looked down as guilt and pain flashed in his eyes. “My father would do stuff like that for insurance fraud all the time.”
“That’s another thing,” June pointed out. “You’d already done the insurance assessment for Lucy.”
“Surely when the assessor came to check, they’d notice the front damage?” Holt asked.
“I thought about that too,” Harvey said and glanced at Margo. “Sorry, Margo.”
Her eyes narrowed, and her heart thudded. “Harvey…”
“What is it?” Holt asked.
“Margo uses the truck for her bakery and jam deliveries, and she scraped the front bumper a week ago,” Harvey admitted.
“But Harvey was going to fix it for me. I knew my mother wouldn’t notice it for a while because my aunt was using the truck, and she really doesn’t notice things like that,” Margo told them quickly.
“And for the record, I didn’t hit anyone.
I turned the corner a little wrong and scraped the bumper on a parking barrier. ”
“I hadn’t gotten the chance to fix it before Dr. Peltz’s accident,” Harvey admitted, drawing their attention back to him. “I was going to do it quietly when I started the insurance work on the truck.”
“Where were you when the bumper was scraped?” Holt asked Margo.
“At the yacht club,” Margo told them. “Of course, Victoria Morrison came rushing out and scolded me like I was an eight-year-old who had just thrown up on her shoes.”
“You did that,” Harvey reminded her with a grin.
“I know,” Margo said. “It was funny even though I felt so awful.”
“Victoria saw the accident?” Holt had stiffened, and Margo noticed the look that passed between him and June.
She was about to ask, but the thought dissolved when the full implications of what was going on hit her, and her head shot up. Her eyes darted from June to Holt.
“Do you think whoever did this did it to frame my mother for Dr. Vernon?” Margo breathed.
“Margo…” Harvey looked at her steadily. “I don’t think they did this to frame your mother or your aunt.”
“What?” Holt, June, and Margo said in unison.
“Then who do you think they are trying to frame for Judy’s attempted murder?” Holt asked.
Harvey’s eyes darkened with worry as he looked at Margo.
“Margo, do you remember what day and time of day your aunt Lacey was run off the road?” Harvey’s voice was soft.
“What’s significant about the day or time?” Holt frowned, looking between Harvey and Margo.
Then it hit Margo. The breath left her in a rush.
“Oh no,” Margo breathed, and her eyes widened as her mouth went dry. She whispered, “Delivery day and time.”
“Margo?” June looked sharply at her. “What does that mean?”
Margo’s heart started to pound painfully in her chest.
“The day and time my aunt was pushed off the road in my mother’s truck was my delivery day,” Margo said, swallowing hard. “I sell my baked goods and jams at Henderson’s farm, and that’s the day and time I take them.”
“Like clockwork,” Harvey added.
The roaring started in Margo’s ears.
“To finish my theory, I don’t think Dr. Tanner is who someone was trying to set up for Dr. Vernon’s attempted murder.” Harvey’s voice came from a distance now, though she knew he was right in front of her.
Margo looked at the truck. At the bumper. At the shape of a plan that had not been aimed where any of them had first believed.
She thought about her routes. Her deliveries. Her regular timing. Her habit of going out in her mother’s truck often enough that everyone in town would have noticed. She thought about Teacups burning. About being trapped inside it. About how often people assumed she would be where she usually was.
Her heart kicked so hard it hurt.
“Me,” Margo said. “They were setting me up.”