Playing Dead_ A Novel of Suspense - Allison Brennan [116]
Stop the car!
She tried to lift her left foot up to push down on the emergency brake. Her foot wouldn’t move, like a pile of bricks weighted it down.
She stared at her hands gripping the steering wheel as she swerved again. Weaving. Over, under, around, through. There were six hands. Did she have six hands? Now eight.
She focused on the white lines. Bright. Bright lines. Yellow. Red. Orange. Purple. Sparkling.
Stop!
She was hallucinating. Drugged. She knew it, but her mind couldn’t order her body to behave. Her eyes saw things she knew in her head couldn’t be there.
Her foot slipped off the gas, but she had no strength to lift it to the brake. But she was slowing down. Good.
So tired.
Mitch was quiet as Steve drove toward Sacramento. Frank Lowe was silent in the back, cuffed to the door. Mitch was turned slightly to watch the prisoner as Steve drove.
Steve said, “Your love life notwithstanding, this is turning out pretty good. O’Brien is turning himself in and we have a major lead in the Maddox homicide.” He jerked his head toward Lowe.
“I swear, I didn’t know the kid was dead until his body was pulled out of the river.”
“But you knew it was Maddox when he came into the bar in January.”
Lowe stayed quiet.
Steve said, “Frank, we have enough to arrest you, and you’ll have to answer to the Sacramento PD about who really died in that fire fifteen years ago.”
“No. As soon as my name gets out, I’ll be dead.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Don’t you see? The only person I told was Taverton, and a week later he was dead and someone tried to kill me. I don’t know who Taverton told, but it couldn’t have been many people. It was someone inside. So I’m not talking.”
“You’re still wanted on the home invasion robbery from fifteen years ago, plus I’m sure there are a whole host of tax laws you’ve broken. And identity theft, lying to federal—”
“Stop. Please don’t do this.” Lowe was scared shitless, and that was fine with Mitch. It just might make him talk.
“Look,” Mitch said, feigning disinterest, “talk to my boss, okay? She might be interested in cutting a deal. Or not. I don’t know. What do you think, Steve?”
“Elliott’s a hard-ass,” Steve said. “And it’s Friday. She might not even want to talk until Monday morning.”
“Right. You can cool your heels in county lockup.”
“No.” Lowe blanched. “Please don’t.”
“Steve, don’t you think it’s interesting that Maddox found out about Waterstone and the Delta Conservancy? The same two companies that Frank’s aunt gave all her money to. It must have been important to him if he swallowed a computer flash drive with the information. Might take us longer to put it together, but—”
“I didn’t do anything. I didn’t do anything wrong. I swear to you, please let me go. I’ll disappear—”
“You’re a suspect in a homicide,” Mitch said, hardening his voice.
“I didn’t kill the kid! I swear on my dad’s grave, I didn’t do it, I had nothing to do with it. Do you swear you can protect me?”
Steve and Mitch glanced at each other. “If your information is good, we’ll take care of you.”
“What’s that?” Mitch leaned forward in his seat. “A drunk driver on this road? He’s going—wait!” Green Ford 150. That was Bill Kamanski’s truck, the one Claire was driving.
“It’s Claire,” he said.
“Something’s wrong.” Steve accelerated.
“Hurry.” Mitch’s heart thudded painfully. He glared at Lowe in the back. “Did you drug her or—”
“I didn’t do anything to her! I swear!”
Claire’s truck was moving slowly but steadily toward the river.
Mitch knew the second before the front wheel went off the edge that they wouldn’t make it in time. He pulled off his holster and kicked off his shoes while Steve sped up until they were right next to where Claire’s car had rolled into the river.
Cars sank fast, but this section of the river had a slight slope and the current was weaker on the curve. Still, the truck was front-heavy. Claire’s front wheels were in the water. It continued to roll forward as Mitch slid down the