30

Emily drove back to Freeport with the radio blaring. She wanted to drown out every thought and emotion that kept bubbling to the surface. After three hours she was so exhausted from trying to avoid her feelings that she pulled over and sat in silence for a moment.

Her phone buzzed from its mounted perch on the dashboard. The caller ID announced Dr. Charles Payton. She realized it had been days since she had thought about him. He might be the only person in her life right now who wasn’t tangled in some drama.

She pressed accept and answered with a cheery voice.

“Charles. Hello!”

“Emily. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“No. A perfect time. Driving back from Chicago.”

“How were the old stomping grounds?”

“Uneventful,” Emily fibbed. “Just needed to pick up a few things.”

“Why don’t you just keep heading along Ninety-Four and extend your trip to Ann Arbor?” She could hear the smile in his voice. Highway 94 connected lower Michigan to Chicago, but she had made the turnoff north on 131 over an hour ago. “Any more thoughts on joining us next fall?”

“Don’t I have to apply first?” Emily allowed herself a soft smile that relaxed the tense muscles of her face.

“Formalities.”

“I’ve thought about it some. And I have a lot of questions.”

“Shoot. I’m all ears.”

She rattled off. “Okay. Well, is this a new position? Who’s actually heading the program? What exactly would I be doing? Do I report to you? Will I have lab duties? Am I overseeing a full department? Is there a curriculum in place, or am I creating that?”

“Whoa, yeah. Why don’t you come down. We can discuss everything. Students will be just finishing fall term; you can meet a few. It’ll give you a good taste of Wolverine hospitality.”

“I’ll see.”

“Don’t overthink it. Just come,” Dr. Payton said with a beguiling tone. “I was actually calling because I have something new in the Parkman case. I examined the hairs you collected from Sandi’s body and had them tested here at the university lab. Eight of the nine hairs shows a DNA match to Sandi. But one of the hairs did not.”

“Okay. Interesting. Was there enough of a sample to get a match?”

“There’s ample DNA present, but when I ran it through CODIS, there was no match. And as I’m sure you’re aware, the other databases—ancestry types and government databases—are untouchable.”

Emily knew that unless there was probable cause, you couldn’t just go digging through the host of nonincarcerated persons’ DNA databases trying to find a suspect.

“I’ll have the report sent to you. You can share it with Sheriff Larson. Or he can request his own copy.”

“Thank you.” Emily was already deep into her thoughts on this. Who’s hair was it, and what had it been doing on Sandi’s body?

“Where did you say you found the hair?” Emily asked.

“Under the third fingernail of her left hand.”

“Could have been transferred in a defensive act.”

“See that. We think alike already,” he said.

“Keep me posted?”

“Of course. Let me know when you can make the trip to Ann Arbor.”

“I will.” Rain began to pelt the windshield, and she could see a downpour ahead. “I should probably concentrate on the road.”

“I’ll see you soon.” It came across as a claim more than a farewell.

As Emily hung up, something fierce stirred inside her. An emotional fuse tripped and ignited, as it often did so quickly in this bereavement season. She tried to pin down the feeling so she could try to make sense of it, but it eluded her. She gripped her hands on the steering wheel and slowed as she hit a whitewash of rain.

Worry thoughts filled her mind. Just as she served up one and swatted it away, another one spiked at her. She couldn’t dodge and duck fast enough. They volleyed around her, vying at her concentration. Emily slowed and pulled over to the shoulder until the torrents of rain passed and she was able to clear her mind.

Heading back onto the highway, Emily pressed steadily on the gas pedal. She kept her speedometer at nine miles above the speed limit the rest of the way to Freeport. Nick had told her cops didn’t stop drivers until they were at least ten over.

Before she knew it, an hour had passed and she was approaching the windy, hilly roads outside Freeport. She slowed, forcing her full attention on the road. This was the stretch where her mother’s accident had taken place, and Emily was respectful of the danger these roads could present if one didn’t heed the curves.

As she came out of one curve and was headed into the steep turn of another, she sensed another car coming up on her rear. She tried to get a better look in her rearview mirror, but her belongings blocked the view. She adjusted her speed, slowing down just a hair, and felt a tap on her bumper.

“Hey, back off!” she voiced.

She checked her outside mirrors, but the offending vehicle was out of her view. Emily tapped on the brakes, signaling the driver to get off her bumper. A few seconds later, he tapped her again. This time with greater impact. Emily’s heart raced.

She craned her neck to try to see around the piles of boxes through her back window. It was no use. The sliver of unobstructed glass was too narrow to make out anything. Emily returned her gaze to the road.

As she did, she felt the bump at her rear again. Harder than the last time. It jostled the steering wheel from her grip, and her car veered toward the shoulder. On the other side of the shoulder was a steep embankment, straight down at least seventy-five feet into a dense woods. Emily struggled to gain control of her light, little electric vehicle as she weathered another bump that would have sent her off the edge of the road if she had not slammed on her brakes and pulled hard to the left. She skidded to a stop along the gravel shoulder. Her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking. She was safe. But where was that other car? Emily rolled her window down and stuck her head out. The road was silent. No car. It must have gone around the next bend. There was no way on that steep, narrow road it could have turned around fast enough to disappear in the opposite direction.

Emily cranked the steering wheel toward the road and stepped on the gas. She was going to chase down that SOB and make him pay! Emily tore down the road, going as fast as she felt she could while remaining at a safe speed. For three miles, her eyes searched side roads and driveways. Not a single other car passed her until she passed the Freeport city limits sign. Her chase was a lost cause. The car who’d hit her had mysteriously disappeared.