of the night with no reason to be there.
Run, that voice urged again. But he couldn’t just walk away from the scene of the accident. Nobody had gotten out of the car yet, which meant somebody was probably hurt.
The airbag that had shot out with the crash depleted enough that one person was evident—a woman slumped over the steering wheel.
Even knowing he was putting himself in danger, there was no way Nick could just walk away. He yanked off his gloves and stuffed them into his pocket, and then hurried to the passenger door and pulled it open.
“Hello?” Her long dark hair hid her face. He knew better than to attempt to move her in any way.
Dear God, was she dead? He scooted onto the seat and picked up one of her lifeless hands. He quickly felt for a pulse. There...her pulse beat erratic and faint.
Crap, he didn’t even have his cell phone to call for help and she needed medical attention as soon as possible. Noticing her purse on the seat between them, he quickly opened it and pulled out her cell phone.
He called 9-1-1, reported the address of the accident and that medical aid was needed. It was only after he disconnected from the call that a new panic set in.
If he hung around for help to arrive, then how was he going to explain his presence there? He’d done his duty, he’d made the call. Surely he could sneak off now.
He had one leg out of the car when she moaned. The pitiful mewling tugged at his heart and pulled him back into the car. “It’s going to be all right,” he said. “I’ve called for help.”
She didn’t move, nor did she moan again. Still he remained sitting next to her, bound to her by a whimper as he faced his own ruin.
He fumbled in her purse, withdrew her wallet and looked at her identification. Julie Peterson. She was thirty-one years old and lived less than a block away. An emergency contact listed her parents’ phone number.
He stared at her driver’s license picture for a long moment. Julie was a very attractive woman. He glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring. As the swirl of red and blue lights approached, a desperate plan formulated in his mind.
Although he wished her no ill-will, if she would just stay unconscious until they got her to the hospital, then Nick could establish an alibi. It was risky, but this whole night had been something out of a nightmare.
The next few minutes flew by as both a cop car and an ambulance arrived. The first order of business was getting the unconscious Julie Peterson out of the car and onto a stretcher.
Once the ambulance pulled away, Officer Tim Brown faced Nick. “You want to tell me what happened here tonight?” A tow truck pulled up where the ambulance had been.
The gun and ski mask in Nick’s pocket once again burned with sickly guilt. “Uh... Julie and I had an argument. She got angry and jumped into the car. I got in the passenger seat and, before I knew it, we’d hit the tree.”
“I’m surprised you aren’t hurt since your airbag didn’t deploy,” Officer Brown replied. Nick’s stomach muscles clenched. Did the man suspect something wasn’t right? A vision of Brian McDowell, bloody and dead, exploded in Nick’s brain.
“Was there any alcohol involved here tonight?”
“No, none.” He hoped like hell Julie Peterson wasn’t a drunk.
“And specifically what is your relationship to Ms. Peterson?”
“Fiancé. I’m her fiancé.” The words blurted out of him without thought of consequence. He just wanted to be allowed to leave.
“Can I see some identification?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any on me. I ran out of the house to stop her and didn’t think to grab my wallet.”
“Your name?” The officer took down Nick’s name and address, and then patted him on the back. “The tow truck will take care of the car and I’ll get you to the hospital. I’m sure you’re worried sick about her.”
The hospital? His web of lies coalesced to form an imaginary noose around his neck. When Julie Peterson regained consciousness, all his lies could potentially result in a real noose around his neck for the murder of Brian McDowell.
The ride to North Kansas City Hospital took only fifteen minutes and, during that time, Officer Brown talked about the hot weather and how the humid, intense heat made people snap.
“Crime is always up during a heat wave like this,” he said. “Thank God the weathermen are predicting a few cooler days next week.” He shot Nick a quick glance. “You’re a bit overdressed for July.”
Once again Nick’s heartbeat raced to a sickly pace as his brain struggled to make a rational response. “I have to wear warm clothes whenever I go to Julie’s place. I swear that woman keeps her thermostat at fifty degrees during the summer.”
Officer Brown chuckled. “My wife and I fight over the thermostat in our house all the time.”
They parked at the hospital and, to Nick’s dismay, Officer Brown accompanied him inside the emergency waiting area. “Julie Peterson was just brought in by ambulance,” Officer Brown told the woman at the receptionist desk. “Please let her doctor know I’ve got her fiancé here with me.”
“I appreciate your help,” Nick said to him as he sank down into one of the chairs.
“It’s my job.” The officer sat in the chair next to Nick’s.
Nick had hoped to shake the man and get out of there. Even though the cop had his name and address, he seriously doubted there would be any follow-up on the accident. But there would definitely be follow-up when Julie Peterson told everyone she didn’t have a fiancé and she’d never seen Nick before in her life.
His stomach muscles twisted into a dozen painful knots as his mind displayed a horrifying picture of Brian McDowell. He’d scarcely had time to process that scene when the car crash had occurred.
And now he sat, next to a police officer, with a ski mask, gloves and a gun in his pocket that he’d intended to use for committing a murder. When Julie awakened and denied knowing him, would he be frisked?
The two men sat side-by-side for the next hour. Officer Brown made small talk and Nick could only hope he responded as a worried fiancé, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the gun in his pocket and the fact that he was seated next to a cop.
Finally a tall, balding doctor walked into the waiting room and headed for Nick and Officer Brown. They both stood, although Nick was sure Tim Brown’s heart wasn’t beating as frantically, as desperately, as Nick’s. His wrists turned icy, as if feeling the cold bite of handcuffs around them.
“How is she?” Nick asked after the doctor introduced himself as Dr. Mitch Carlson.
“The good news is her physical injuries are relatively minor considering the circumstances. She has some bumps and bruises and a mild concussion,” Dr. Carlson replied.
“Can I ask her a few questions?” Officer Brown asked.
Dr. Carlson
