She went to clear her things out of the vehicle, starting with her always-ready backpack stashed in the back. Her truck was also well supplied with equipment for her job. She’d have to transfer it to Eddie’s car before the tow truck arrived.
She sat on a rock by the Tahoe and called Tilda, canceling their tea date, promising to do it tomorrow.
Then she called Truman.
“So I wrecked my Tahoe,” she blurted when he answered.
“Are you okay?” he nearly shouted.
“I’m fine. There’s no fuss needed. I’m just pissed because I screwed up and now I’ll have to miss an appointment.”
“What happened?” he asked in a calmer voice.
She relayed the whole story, feeling slightly unnerved as he grew very, very quiet while she spoke.
“That’s all you remember of the vehicle that ran you off the road?” he finally asked.
“Sadly yes. Some investigator I am.”
“Did you go anywhere for work today?”
She told him about her and Eddie’s trip to Tom McDonald’s ranch.
“Any chance the vehicle could have been from there?”
“I can’t rule it out.” She rubbed at her forehead, feeling a dull ache start in her brain. Why didn’t I look closer at the truck before it passed? Could that little squinty-eyed ass from the ranch have run her off the road?
The thought made her headache worsen.
“When’s Eddie going to get there?”
“Soon. And I’m supposed to tell you he’s taking me to get my back x-rayed.”
“Good.”
“Then I’ll need a rental.”
“You won’t get one tonight. By the time you’re out of the ER, it’ll be too late.”
He’s right. Dammit.
“I’ll meet you at the ER.”
“That’s not necessary. I don’t want you to have to—”
“I’ll meet you at the ER.” Anger infused his tone.
Eddie’s earlier words about Truman ran through her head. “Okay.”
They ended the call, and she went back up the slope to keep an eye out for Eddie. A Good Samaritan stopped to see if she needed help. The driver had to be in her seventies and insisted on waiting until Mercy’s ride showed up. “I can’t leave another woman alone on the side of the road out here. If you don’t want a ride, I’ll just wait here until yours shows up.” She offered Mercy the warmth of her car, but Mercy turned it down, preferring to stand outside where Eddie could easily see her.
The cold cleared her head, and the more she thought about the wreck, the more convinced she became that someone at the ranch had followed her. She could understand that she’d ruffled some feathers, but not enough to make them hurt her.
Hell, I could have died.
The decision to stand outside resulted in two more Good Samaritans stopping. Mercy finally decided to accept the offer of the warm car, and she called Eddie to tell him to keep an eye out for a two-decades-old white Cadillac on the side of the road.
The woman chatted pleasantly as they waited, and Mercy learned she was a retired nurse.
“Weren’t you worried about stopping for a stranger?” Mercy asked.
“Oh no, honey. I could tell by your face that you were a good girl.”
Mercy thought on that for a while, uncertain whether to take it as a compliment or not.
Eddie showed up and charmed her companion as Mercy transferred the things into his vehicle. The tow truck showed up a minute later, and the driver scratched his head as he eyed the Tahoe stuck on the rocks below the road. Mercy didn’t have any advice to share. He was the expert, and it was now his problem to figure out.
Minutes later they were en route to the ER. Mercy leaned her head against the back of her seat and sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Get over it,” said Eddie. “Let’s make sure you aren’t going to wake up tomorrow with some devastating injury from shards of bone working their way through your spinal cord or internal organs.”
She glared at him. “Thank you for that visual.”
“Truman said he’d be there in about an hour.”
“You called him? I told you I would do it.”
“He called me to see if I’d picked you up yet.”
She didn’t say anything. Knowing that people had talked about her when she wasn’t present made her want to pout like a cranky toddler. Even if their intentions were good. When that was combined with the growing certainty that someone had tried to hurt her, her mood grew darker by the minute.
Tension ratcheting through his veins, Truman followed the nurse’s direction to the curtained-off bed at the end of the small emergency room. He spotted a man’s shoes below the curtain hem.
“Eddie?” he asked.
The FBI agent pushed back the curtain as relief and exhaustion showed in his eyes behind the thick frames of his glasses. “Glad you’re here. I’m taking off.” He tipped his head at Mercy, who perched on the side of the hospital bed in a gown, looking ready to run out the front door. “She’s all yours.”
“I don’t need to be handed off,” Mercy snapped. “I’m not six.”
Eddied rolled his eyes at Truman. “Enjoy,” he silently mouthed.
Truman sat next to Mercy and pulled her into him, kissing her soundly. She leaned into the kiss after a moment of sitting stiffly and then sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder. He swore stress evaporated from her like rain on hot pavement. His own stress lessened as he held her against him and felt her skin touch his. The entire drive to the hospital, he’d worried about hidden injuries, terrified he’d arrive and find her unconscious.
He hugged her tighter.
“Did the X-ray confirm that you’re in one piece?” She smelled like the hospital—bandages and disinfectant. He noticed a Band-Aid on the crook of her arm and wondered if they’d tested her blood for alcohol. If the police had brought her in, he could understand the need for a draw.
“I haven’t been told if I’m in one piece. They took the X-ray thirty minutes ago and I’m waiting for someone to review it. I haven’t busted in half yet, so I assume I’m okay.” She followed his gaze to her arm. “I requested the blood draw. I don’t need some overseeing agency asking if I was drunk when I wrecked government property. Better safe than sorry.”
Irritation dripped from her tone, and he knew it was hard for her to wait. Mercy was a doer. No doubt she would have rustled up her own radiologist and been checked out by now if she’d been allowed. The irritation encouraged him; she sounded like her usual self.
She asked, “Any leads on the vehicle that hit me?”
“None,” said Truman. “Both Deschutes County and my guys are keeping an eye out for a red pickup with some front-end damage.”
“If he’s smart, the driver would have immediately hidden the vehicle.”
“If he was smart, he wouldn’t have run an FBI agent off the road.”
“True,” she agreed.
“Why did they do it?” he asked bluntly. “You must have some ideas.” On the way to the hospital, he’d talked with her boss, who’d also theorized that she and Eddie had stirred up some anger out at the McDonald ranch.
Mercy looked at the floor, clearly mulling over her options. “Most likely it was someone from the McDonald ranch. The move was clearly deliberate, for God’s sake. I spun in front of their vehicle. If it had been accidental, they would have stopped.”
“Unless they were uninsured or scared.”
“True again.”
“Joshua Pence had a red truck that we haven’t located yet.”