Two accidents in two weeks. It had to be some kind of record. One self-inflicted, the other a big, black question mark. Since her own car was still in the shop for repairs in Utah, Quinn had been driving her father’s Volvo. And now she had to do what she thought she’d never have to do again, except this time, she wasn’t a kid; she was an adult. That adult would have to face her father and tell him the hood of his new Volvo looked like a metal tent for two. Moments like these made her feel like a teenager again, giving her the same knotty lump in her throat she used to get right before one of her parents uttered the words “you’re grounded.”
Over the last half hour, three people she’d never met before had pulled to the side of the road to check on her, inquiring if she was all right, offering their help. Recent days had caused her to dismiss the town she remembered. Forget the people. Forget how friendly they were, waving as she drove by whether she knew them or not, or tonight, stopping even though they had other places to be.
She’d hardened. Evie’s death had changed her. Made her feel less. Judge more. But in this moment, in this very moment as a woman she’d known less than five minutes cloaked her in a blanket from the back-seat of her car, Quinn’s heart grew, swelling fuller than it had in a long time. The same woman called the police and then a towing company. And then she held Quinn’s quivering hand and assured her everything was going to be all right.
For a moment, Quinn believed it.
It didn’t take long for the police to arrive. Kyle’s eyes expanded when he stepped from the patrol car, but he didn’t say much. He barked an order at the other officer who surveyed the damaged car with a flashlight, noting the hit-and-run vehicle they were looking for was silver, as evidenced by the streaks of paint left on the Volvo’s bumper.
The scene was processed. Kyle asked Quinn to fill out a report. She said she’d try, but even now, she didn’t know for sure what had actually happened. He escorted her to his squad car, told her to get inside, get warmed up. He offered her a ride home. She refused. She’d already called someone. The only person she knew to call. All she needed to do now was to sit and wait.
Kyle rounded the side of the car, opened the door, sat down next to her. “Are you sure it was just a hit and run, Quinn?”
“I’m not sure of anything. It was over so fast. Five seconds. Ten maybe. Tops.”
“I know it was dark, but try and explain what happened.”
“I turned onto the main road to town, saw headlights behind me, blaring into my car. It didn’t look like the person driving was going to slow down. At first I thought he didn’t see me. Now I ... I don’t know.”
“Were your headlights on?”
“Of course they were.”
“What happened next?”
“I tried to get out of the way. He hit me anyway. Or she. I couldn’t tell.”
“On purpose?”
“I don’t know.”
“Come on, Quinn. Think about it. Who have you been talkin’ to today?”
Everyone.
“I spent most of the afternoon and the evening with Evie’s employees. We had a meeting.”
“How did the meeting go?”
“Not bad for the first one,” she said.
“No one left angry or seemed upset?”
Almost all of them did, but she wasn’t about to admit it. “It’s hard to say.”
Kyle sighed. “Okay, Quinn. If you think of anything else, you have to tell me. Okay?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Being here. Waiting with me.”
“It’s what I do.”
There was that tone again.
“I never said I wasn’t interested in you,” she said. “What I mean is, I didn’t have a conversation with Bo about you. Not the kind you think we had.”
“I know. After all these years, he still has a thing for you, doesn’t he?”
“He’s with someone, Kyle. Even if he wasn’t, I’m ... I don’t know ... preoccupied with other things is probably the best way to describe it.”
Preoccupied. The most understated understatement of the year. More like pulled in opposite directions, like a Stretch Armstrong action figure.
“I just wanted you to know,” she continued. “I didn’t go out with you to frisk you for information. I went out with you because we’re friends.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re upset with me. I can tell.”
“It’s just ...”
“Just what?”
He bent a thumb to the side. “Looks like your ride’s here.”