The Heirloom Murders - Kathleen Ernst [63]
Once settled into Libby’s car, Roelke leaned his head against the rest. “Take H, OK? I want to look at the crash site.” The day was cloudy, thank God, since his sunglasses were in his truck, which had been towed to a garage. God, his truck.
She shot him a disapproving look. “I really think we should—”
“You can take me to the scene, or I’ll drive back by myself.”
He’d gone off the road in the farming community of Sugar Creek. He spotted the residue of his adventure beside a cornfield. Some broken glass glinted in the sun—mirror, most likely. Vegetation was crushed from the shoulder to the bottom of the ditch.
Libby pulled over and they both climbed from the car. “I went off here,” Roelke pointed, “then rolled. Three-quarters of a full rotation.”
Libby reached for his hand and squeezed.
“It’s strange,” Roelke mused. “I had this clear sense that the truck was going to roll many times. But I don’t know where that came from. The ditch isn’t that deep.”
Libby unpinched her lips long enough to say, “I imagine everything was a blur.”
“It wasn’t, though. Everything must have happened really fast, but it didn’t seem like it. And I didn’t hear anything, although the truck must have made a lot of noise as we banged over. But I was thinking clearly.”
“Come on.” Libby tugged his hand. “Let’s get you home.”
“Give me a minute.” He pulled free and walked into the middle of the empty road. He looked in both directions, trying to overlay his memories on the geography.
“I was heading north, right down there, when this vehicle zoomed up out of nowhere,” he said. “Right on my ass. I eased over, hoping the guy would pass, but he didn’t. Just flashed his high beams. They hit my rearview mirror.”
“Jerk,” Libby muttered. Her posture was tight, as if ready to spring. If the driver showed up right then, Roelke had no doubt Libby would take him down.
He tried to focus. “Then, while I was dealing with that, brights hit me from the front. I swear, they seemed to come out of nowhere. I was already right next to the shoulder. I swerved, trying to get away from the other car. That’s when I went off the road.”
He frowned, trying to figure out where the car in front had come from. Nobody would be stupid enough to drive down County H in the dark with no lights on, would they? Well, if the driver hadn’t been driving south on H, he must have been …
“There.” Roelke pointed. The accident had happened just after he’d passed the junction of Sugar Creek Road, which hit County H from the west; and just before Schmidt Road bisected H from the east. The angles of the three roads formed a small triangle of unclaimed ground on the west side of County H, filled with trees and shrubby vegetation, tall and dense.
“I think the bastard was sitting on Schmidt, right there, as I was coming up. He pulled out onto H without any lights on, then hit his brights.” Roelke turned again. “And whoever was on my tail must have turned onto Sugar Creek after the other guy went by. I remember the lights from both vehicles disappearing, right as I started to roll.”
Libby’s eyes went wide. “Are you saying somebody did this on purpose?”
Roelke chewed that over. It may have all been a bad combination of unrelated events. But if someone had wanted him to crash … this would be a place to try it. And if it was deliberate, and aimed at him, the person responsible must have known that he’d be driving north on County H, right then; must have known he’d be leaving Roxie’s Roost and heading home.
“Roelke?” Libby demanded.
“Just give me a minute.” He thought back to his conversation with Roxie. He’d lingered at the tavern long enough for Guest and Sabatola to come up with the plan and get into place.
But it would have taken two drivers to pull off the maneuver. Driver A had climbed up on his tail, and flashed his brights to signal Yes, this is McKenna. Then Driver B pulled out and flipped on his brights. Had Sabatola been sober enough to handle a vehicle?
“Roelke!” Libby snapped. “You think this was deliberate?”
“It may have been,