The next morning, Seth slumped into the swivel desk chair in his office at the Watauga County Sheriff’s Department and picked up the police report detailing Paige’s accident. He flipped through it, stopping at the picture of her mangled car.
Broken glass, deployed air bags, twisted metal.
How could anyone survive something like that? He dropped the report on his desk, rocked back in his chair and scrubbed his face. The thick foliage and spruce trees had cushioned the impact, but still.
He shook his head.
If he were a man of faith, he would definitely say someone up there had been looking out for her. For Paige to walk away from a crash like that with only a few bumps and bruises was hard to comprehend.
One thing he did comprehend, though, was that somebody had run her off the road. And that person hadn’t bothered to stop. Or even call for help. Purposeful or not, that tidbit hit him deep in the gut. And his only clue so far was that somebody was driving a long-bed extended-cab pickup. Which narrowed the suspect list to about two-thirds of Boone’s population.
Meaning—he had nothing.
Frustration banged around in his chest. He rocked forward in his chair and stood. He needed coffee.
In the break room, Seth grabbed the glass pot and poured himself a cup. Strong and black. Something to jump-start his brain. Right now every synapse in his head was seriously misfiring.
Seth took a sip of the steamy brew as he thought about how many hit-and-run accidents were never solved. A fact he hated to accept.
“Seth, what are you doing here?” Detective Colton Walsh said, walking into the room. “I thought you were still out of town.”
In some respects he wished he still was. Seth leaned against the cabinet, sipping his coffee. “I got back yesterday. I had the rest of the week off and had plans to get some things done around my place, but I got pulled into a case last night.”
“Last night?” Colton picked up the coffeepot, tilting it over an empty mug.
“The accident on Eagle’s Ridge. I saw the flashing lights at the scene as I was heading home, and I just couldn’t help myself,” he admitted with a tight grin.
Pausing the pot midway, Colton glanced up, creasing his forehead. “I thought Brett Ralston was on that case. I think he just left to talk to the victim.”
“What?” Seth snorted, almost choking on the sip he just took. “Ralston?”
Colton nodded. “The chief assigned him to the case this morning.”
This day just kept getting worse. Seth pitched his cup and slammed out of the room. He headed down the long corridor to the office at the far end—the office of the Watauga County chief of detectives.
Seth’s old friend Detective Kevin Mullins looked up as he stalked into the room. “Kevin, could you please explain why you assigned Ralston to my case?”
Dropping his ink pen, the chief leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers together, as if sizing up Seth’s vehemence. “You’re officially on vacation, Seth. I wasn’t even sure if you’d be in today.”
“I was up half the night writing up the accident report and the victim’s statement, and it didn’t cross your mind to pick up the phone and call me before you handed my case to someone else?”
The chief hesitated a moment and then swerved his chair around, getting to his feet. “Seth, I didn’t want to have to tell you this, but Paige requested another detective be put on her case.”
Seth looked Mullins in the eye. “You’re kidding.”
“No,” Mullins said with a casual hitch of his shoulders. “It’s not an unreasonable request. You’re the detective responsible for her brother’s arrest and she is your ex-girlfriend.”
Irrelevant from Seth’s perspective. His jaw clenched in exasperation. It was his case, and no one would do a better job investigating Paige’s accident than him. Especially not Brett Ralston. He’d been a friend of Trey’s, but like the rest of local law enforcement, he’d seen the evidence and believed Trey was guilty. Like that wasn’t a conflict of interest for her, too.
“Seth, I’m sorry.”
Seth didn’t comment. Didn’t protest. If Paige didn’t want him on her case, fine.
Mullins studied him, eyes narrowed. “Are you going to be okay with this?”
Like he had a choice. Seth lifted a shoulder. “Sure. Absolutely.”
“Good to hear.” Mullins’s face brightened. “Because we’ve been drowning around here since you’ve been gone. Now that you’re back, I have some things I’d like for you to get started—”
“Hold on, Chief.” Seth waved a staying hand. “You were right when you said I’m still on vacation. And for the next week I plan to stay away from the office and out of sheriff’s department business.” He never should have stopped last night.
“But—”
“See you later, Chief.” Seth lifted his hand in a saucy salute and turned to walk out of the office. Now more than ever he needed time off. To unwind, get some work done and hopefully forget about Paige.
* * *
Paige walked down the sidewalk toward Boone Auto Body and Wrecker, trying to keep pace with Deputy Detective Brett Ralston of the Watauga County Sheriff’s Department. After a restful night, she was feeling the effects from her accident. Her limbs were stiff, body achy. But she wasn’t complaining. At least she was out of the hospital. A couple ibuprofen and she’d be fine.
Instinctively, she reached for her shoulder bag, then realized it wasn’t there. Her heart sank, reality settling in. Her purse and other personal things had been left inside her car. She drew in a deep breath and exhaled. Hopefully, her items had been recovered by the wrecker service.
Boone Auto Body and Wrecker was an older establishment that had been in business for decades. She entered the ancient brick building through a set of dingy glass doors and into a small waiting area. Everything around her was well worn, from the weathered wood reception desk to the cracked orange-vinyl chairs. The smell of grease and oil seasoned the air.
She blinked as tears bit her eyes. This was the final resting place for her spunky little Jeep, her first purchase after she graduated from college.
No big deal, she told herself. It was only a car. Still, she couldn’t hold in a weary sigh.
“Are you okay?” Brett raised his bushy brows beneath his combed-back blond hair.
Okay was a relative term. She bit her lower lip. Leaning against one of the weathered wood pillars, she managed a nod.
A short, pudgy woman came around the corner carrying a cardboard box. “Miss Becker, here are the things recovered from your car.”
Paige riffled through the menagerie of items. She hadn’t realized how much stuff she’d crammed into her handbag,
