saw his face through the windshield right after he hit me.He was dead before it happened. I'm sure of it."
"A dead man crashed into you?"
"Yes."
"A dead man was driving that car?"
"That's what I said."
She hit a button on the cell phone that she had been clutching in her left hand and raised it to her ear. "Hi, Mark. It's Cindy. There's been an accident in front of the church and I think the one driver was dead before it happened."
She listened for a moment and then continued. "No, I don't know what killed him."
Another pause. "All right, we'll be here."
She hung up.
"You didn't just call Detective Walters, did you?" Jeremiah asked with a groan.
"I did," she said, raising her chin defiantly. "And what's wrong with that?"
"There hasn't been a murder."
"You don't know that."
"The guy probably had a heart attack while driving. It happens."
"And what if it didn't happen today?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you want to take the chance that this guy was murdered and the killer wouldn't be caught because it seemed like an accident?"
Actually he would rather a killer walk free than expose himself or his synagogue to the scrutiny of the police any more than necessary. He squeezed his eyes closed. There was no way he could explain that to Cindy. No easy way, at least. No, whether he liked it or not, he was going to have to play the helpless victim this time and hope that it all went away quickly.
"Can you help me stand up?"
"Not until a paramedic looks you over. Mark's calling an ambulance."
"I'm fine."
"Let's leave that decision to the professionals."
He acquiesced and lay slowly back down on the grass, staring up at the blue of the sky. It was March and the weather was starting to get a little warmer. A month before, it would have been too cold to lie on the grass waiting. It got colder in Southern California during the winter than it had in Israel.
He heard the sirens of the ambulance and a moment later he heard Cindy gasp.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I know him," she said.
He twisted his head slowly to the side and saw that she was staring through the windshield of the car that had hit his.
"Who is he?"
"It's Dr. Tanner. He used to be a member here."
Of course he did, because that's my luck, Jeremiah thought. As the siren grew louder he began to feel some of the aches and pains caused by the accident. The shock was wearing off and he could already tell he was going to be stiff in the morning.
I'm getting soft, weak, he thought, closing his eyes.
"You're slipping," a male voice said.
Jeremiah opened his eyes and saw Detective Mark Walters staring down at him. "You think so?"
"I do. You're supposed to be the one playing good Samaritan, not her." He nodded toward Cindy.
Actually she's a Gentile, Jeremiah wanted to say, but he was just grateful Mark wasn't calling him Samaritan for once. "I must be getting old," he said instead.
Mark snorted derisively, then got down on one knee."Seriously, you okay?"
"I'll live," Jeremiah said. "I just won't be happy about it in the morning."
A fleeting smile crossed the detective's face before he stood and turned toward the other car. "Let's see what we've got."
Cindy felt strange. She had been so confident that calling Mark was the right thing to do, but now that he was there she felt a bit foolish. Jeremiah was right; Mel Tanner had probably had a heart attack. The man was in his upper sixties and it would be the most logical explanation for what had happened. How could a murder victim even be driving in the first place?
Maybe he was poisoned, a small voice inside her head whispered.She bit her lip and wished that her deck of cards wasn't in her purse inside the office. She fidgeted with her fingers while she waited for Mark to look over the body.
I'm beginning to see murder victims everywhere. She wondered if she was suffering from some form of post-traumatic stress. The last year she had seen so much death. First there was the Passion Week serial killer. Then there was the string of murders around Thanksgiving. Maybe she thought "murder" because subconsciously she kept expecting to stumble upon another crime scene.
While she waited she watched the paramedics as they checked out Jeremiah. They had ripped open one of his pant legs and were treating a nasty-looking cut. Other than that he looked fine. They insisted on taking him to the hospital for X-rays, and he protested strenuously. To her surprise he lost the argument. With a grimace he climbed into the back of the ambulance and lay down on one of the gurneys.
"Do you want me to come to the hospital?" she asked.
"No. I don't plan on being there more than ten minutes. Besides, with our luck the nurse who thinks we're married will be on duty."
Cindy smirked at the memory of how he had lied to be allowed to see her after she was attacked by a serial killer. The thought of a little payback appealed to her. "That's precisely why I should come. Otherwise she might be concerned that our marriage is in trouble."
"I'm glad one of us can laugh."
The driver closed the door with an apologetic glance at her, then climbed into the front and drove away. Cindy felt oddly reassured that he drove up the street at a reasonable pace without the use of lights or siren. That had to mean Jeremiah was okay.
She turned to find Mark watching her. She gave him a fleeting smile before asking, "Did you find anything?"
He shook his head. "I'll have the coroner examine him, though, nail down actual cause of death. Something like this is usually a heart attack, aneurysm, something like that."
"Thank you. That's what Jeremiah said."
He took out a notepad and pen. "Anything you can tell me about the other driver?"
"His name is Dr. Mel Tanner. He used to go to First Shepherd but now he goes to another church downtown. He's a retired physician. He's still active in the community, though."She flushed and looked away. "I mean, he was."
"Any idea where he might have been headed this morning?" Mark said, ignoring her slip of the tongue.
"No."
"Do
