I dialed Brodie’s cell number while keeping one hand on the steering wheel. The road back to Gett might’ve been paved with good intentions, but it was also full of ruts. I’d already nearly lost control after hitting a wide pothole. Of course, speed was a factor as I’d kept the gas pedal against the floor since leaving the Harker Motel.
His voice mail answered after the fourth ring. Damn. “I think Grace was lying about seeing Evan’s car. Or maybe she was just mistaken. I don’t see a reason for her to lie about it. Anyway, I’m on my way to ask her about it.” I hesitated. “Call me.”
The phone flew out of my hand, hitting the floorboard with a thud as the pickup lurched into another hole. Why hadn’t I extended my AppleCare? With a sigh, I turned up the road toward Grace’s house. A red BMW rushed past me at top speed, nearly running into me. I slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop to avoid a collision. Was that Grace’s car? And just where was she going in such a hurry? Fearing she’d had one too many again, I flipped around to follow her but her car had already vanished from view.
She couldn’t have gone far, plus there wasn’t really many places to go in Gett—the diner, either of the watering holes, or the church. Seeing as it wasn’t Sunday, the church seemed unlikely. I decided to check the local watering holes first. Not only for Grace, but for Brodie as well.
Sadly, neither Brodie’s Jeep nor Grace’s BMW was in the parking lot of either bar. Which left the diner. I drove along Main Street, as always impressed by the bright emerald green of the lawns. It was as if the color only existed to make those of us with black thumbs jealous.
My cell phone buzzed. I pulled to a stop, stretching to reach it, my fingers brushing the edge. It buzzed for a third time. Unhooking my seat belt, I dove for it, catching it on the fourth ring. “Hello.” My phone died, the screen going black, as the call vanished into the ether.
I tossed the busted phone on the seat. I didn’t have six hundred dollars to replace it, let alone a thousand or so for the latest and coolest version. I had a new still to buy, and employees to pay. An iPhone came last on my list. For a moment, the enormity of my responsibilities threatened to overwhelm me. My head dropped to the steering wheel. I took a slow, easy breath. And then another.
As the anxiety faded, I started the engine once more, pulling back into traffic. Which, in Gett, was three or four cars in a mile stretch. The diner came into view on the left, the parking lot nearly empty. Cindy Mae’s car, a late-model minivan with multiple kids’ car seats inside, was the only one in the lot. I grinned at how different the life of the former Gett prom queen had turned out.
Like Cindy Mae, I hadn’t quite expected how changed my life would be after Jack’s heart attack. I surely hadn’t expected to be running all over Gett trying to solve the murder of a man who claimed to love me for financial gain.
I drove up Main Street, hoping for a glimpse of Grace’s BMW. Luck, for once, was on my side as I spotted it in the parking lot of the church.
Along with a black Jeep.
Brodie’s black Jeep to be precise. Had he heard my voice mail and went searching for Grace? I released the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding and pulled into the spot next to his Jeep.
Other than our vehicles the lot was empty. A piece of crumbled paper drifted past me as I headed for the wooden doors of the church. The loud retort of a gunshot sounded.
I jerked back. My heart slammed wildly as I searched my body for telltale signs of blood and guts. Finding none, I started for the church doors. In hindsight, running toward the sound of a gunshot wasn’t the brightest of moves. In my defense, I wasn’t thinking clearly. My only thoughts were of Brodie.
However, I wasn’t completely foolish. I slipped quietly into the church, staying to the side, in case any bullets flew my way. Rather than gunshots, the only sounds were of a muffled argument. I recognized Pastor Matt’s calming voice.
I poked my head around the corner. In front of the altar he stood, his hands outstretched. Grace stood with her back to me, a gun in her hand. The barrel swung in the pastor’s direction. She waved it back and forth from him to the floor.
I took a tentative step up the aisle, crouching in hopes she wouldn’t see me. My plan, formed in a moment of hazy terror, was to get close enough to grab the gun. Another step in brought me closer, giving me a view of what she was pointing to on the floor.
Unbidden, a scream burst from my lips before I could stop it.