Then, gradually, an awareness of discomfort seeped through the layers of shock. Her chest hurt, and her shoulder. It was the seat belt. It had saved her life, but it had also bruised her ribs.
Groaning, she pressed the belt release and felt herself collapse forward, against the steering wheel.
Hey! Hey, lady!
Nina turned to see a face anxiously peering through the window. It was an elderly man. He yanked open her door. Are you all right? he asked.
Im I think so.
Id better call an ambulance.
No, Im fine. Really, I am. She took a deep breath. Her chest was sore, but that seemed to be her only injury. With the old mans help, she climbed out of the car. Though a little unsteady, she was able to stand. She was shocked by the damage.
Her car was a mess. The drivers door had been bashed in, the window was shattered, and the front fender was peeled off entirely.
She turned and glanced toward the road. There was another car, she said. A black one
You mean that damn fool who tried to pass you?
Where is it?
Took off. You oughta report that fella. Probably drunk as a skunk.
Drunk? Nina didnt think so. Shivering, she hugged herself and stared at the road, but she saw no sign of another car.
The black Ford had vanished.
Three
Gordon Gillis looked up from his burger and fries. Anything interesting? he asked.
Not a damn thing. Sam hung his jacket up on the coatrack and sank into a chair behind his desk, where he sat wearily rubbing his face.
Hows the minister doing?
Fine, so far. Doctors doubt its a heart attack. But theyll keep him in for a day, just to be sure.
He didnt have any ideas about the bombing?
Claims he has no enemies. And everyone I talked to seems to agree that Reverend Sullivan is a certifiable saint. Groaning, Sam leaned back. How bout you?
Gillis peeled off the hamburger wrapper and began to eat as he talked. I interviewed the best man, the matron of honor and the florist. No one saw anything.
What about the church janitor?
Were still trying to locate him. His wife says he usually gets home around six. Ill send Cooley over to talk to him.
According to Reverend Sullivan, the janitor opens the front doors at 7:00 a.m. And the doors stay open all day. So anyone couldve walked in and left a package.
What about the night before? asked Gillis. What time did he lock the doors?
The church secretary usually locks up. Shes a part-timer. Wouldve done it around 6:00 p.m. Unfortunately, she left for vacation this morning. Visiting family in Massachusetts. Were still trying to get hold of He paused.
Gilliss telephone was ringing. Gillis turned to answer it. Yeah, whats up?
Sam watched as his partner scribbled something on a notepad, then passed it across the desk. Trundy Point Road was written on the paper.
A moment later, Gillis said, Well be there, and hung up. He was frowning.
What is it? asked Sam.
Report just came in from one of the mobile units. Its about the bride. The one at the church today.
Nina Cormier?
Her car just went off the road near Trundy Point.
Her car just went off the road near Trundy Point.
Sam sat up straight in alarm. Is she all right?
Shes fine. They wouldnt have called us at all, but she insisted they notify us.
For an accident? Why?
She says it wasnt an accident. She says someone tried to run her off the road.
HER RIBS HURT, her shoulder was sore, and her face had a few cuts from flying glass. But at least her head was perfectly clear. Clear enough for her to recognize the man stepping out of that familiar blue Taurus that had just pulled up at the scene. It was that sullen detective, Sam Navarro. He didnt even glance in her direction.
Through the gathering dusk, Nina watched as he spoke to a patrolman. They conversed for a few moments. Then, together, the two men tramped through the underbrush to view the remains of her car. As Sam paced a slow circle around the battered Honda, Nina was reminded of a stalking cat. He moved with an easy, feline grace, his gaze focused in complete concentration. At one point he stopped and crouched to look at something on the ground. Then he rose to his feet and peered more closely at the drivers window. Or what was left of the window. He prodded the broken glass, then opened the door and climbed into the front seat. What on earth was he looking for? She could see his dark hair bobbing in and out of view. Now he seemed to be crawling all over the interior, and into the back seat. It was a good thing she had nothing to hide in there. She had no doubt that the sharp-eyed Detective Navarro could spot contraband a mile away.
At last he reemerged from her car, his hair tousled, his trousers wrinkled. He spoke again to the patrolman. Then he turned and looked in her direction.
And began to walk toward her.
At once she felt her pulse quickening. Something about this man both fascinated and frightened her. It was more than just his physical presence, which was impressive enough. It was also the way he looked at her, with a gaze that was completely neutral. That inscrutability unnerved her. Most men seemed to find Nina attractive, and they would at least make an attempt to be friendly.
This man seemed to regard her as just another homicide victim in the making. Worth his intellectual interest, but that was all.
She straightened her back and met his gaze without wavering as he approached.
Are you all right? he asked.
A few bruises. A few cuts. Thats all.
Youre sure you dont want to go to the ER? I can drive you.
Im fine. Im a nurse, so I think Id know.
They say doctors and nurses make the worst patients. Ill drive you to the hospital. Just to be sure.
She gave a disbelieving laugh. That sounds like an order.
As a matter of fact, it is.
Detective, I really think Id know if I was
She was talking to his back. The man had actually turned his back to her. He was already walking away, toward his car. Detective! she called.
He glanced over his shoulder. Yes?
I dont This isnt She sighed. Oh, never mind, she muttered, and followed him to his car. There was no point arguing with the man. Hed just turn his back on her again. As she slid into the passenger seat, she felt a sharp stab of pain in her chest. Maybe he was right after all. She knew it could take hours, or even days, for injuries to manifest themselves. She hated to admit it, but Mr. Personality was probably right about this trip to the ER.
She was too uncomfortable to say much as they drove to the hospital. It was Sam who finally broke the silence.
So, can you tell me what happened? he asked.
I already gave a statement. Its all in the police report. Someone ran me off the road.
Yes, a black Ford, male driver. Maine license plate.
Then youve been told the details.
The other witness said he thought it was a drunk driver trying to pass you on the hill. He didnt think it was deliberate.
She shook her head. I dont know what to think anymore.
When did you first see the Ford?
Somewhere around Smugglers Cove, I guess. I noticed that it seemed to be following me.
Was it weaving? Show any signs of driver impairment?
No. It was justfollowing me.
Could it have been behind you earlier?
Im not sure.
Is it possible it was there when you left your mothers house?
She frowned at him. He wasnt looking at her, but was staring straight ahead. The tenor of his questions had taken a subtle change of course. He had started out sounding noncommittal. Maybe even skeptical. But this last question told her he was considering a possibility other than a drunk driver. A possibility that left her suddenly chilled.
Are you suggesting he was waiting for me?
Im just exploring the possibilities.
The other policeman thought it was a drunk driver.
He has his opinion.
Whats your opinion?
He didnt answer. He just kept driving in that maddeningly calm way of his. Did the man ever show any emotion? Once, just once, shed like to see something get under that thick skin of his.
Detective Navarro, she said. I pay taxes. I pay your salary. I think I deserve more than just a brush-off.
Oh. The old civil servant line.
Ill use whatever line it takes to get an answer out of you!
Im not sure you want to hear my answer.
Why wouldnt I?
I made a brief inspection of your car. What I found there backs up quite a bit of what you just told me. There were black paint chips on the drivers side, indicating that the vehicle that rammed yours was, indeed, black.
So Im not color blind.
I also noticed that the drivers window was shattered. And that the breakage was in a starburst pattern. Not what Id expect for a rollover accident.
Thats because the window was already broken when I went off the road.
How do you know?
I remember I felt flying glass. Thats how I cut my face. When the glass hit me. That was before I rolled over.
Are you sure? He glanced at her. Absolutely sure?
Yes. Does it make a difference?
He let out a breath. It makes a lot of difference, he said softly. It also goes along with what I found in your car.
In my car? Perplexed, she shook her head. What, exactly, did you find?
It was in the right passenger door the door that was jammed against the tree. The metal was pretty crumpled; thats why the other cops didnt notice it. But I knew it was there somewhere. And I found it.
Found what?
A bullet hole.
Nina felt the blood drain from her face. She couldnt speak; she could only sit in shocked silence, her world rocked by the impact of his words.
He continued talking, his tone matter-of-fact. Chillingly so. Hes not human, she thought. Hes a machine. A robot.
The bullet must have hit your window, he said, just to the rear of your head. Thats why the glass shattered. Then the bullet passed at a slightly forward angle, missed you completely, and made a hole in the plastic molding of the opposite door, where its probably still lodged. Itll be retrieved. By tonight, well know the caliber. And possibly the make of the gun. What I still dont know what youll have to tell me is why someones trying to kill you.
She shook her head. Its a mistake.
This guys going to a lot of trouble. Hes bombed a church. Tailed you. Shot at you. Theres no mistake.
There has to be!
Think of every possible person who might want to hurt you. Think, Nina.