And if she really was innocent? The thought made me cringe.
I was about halfway home when I noticed headlights in my rearview mirror. They were approaching fast. I thought about pulling over and letting whoever was in such a hurry pass, but I was on a narrow, curvy stretch of road with steep slopes on both sides.
To my right were rocky cliffs, and to my left, thirty feet below, was the lake.
The vehicle behind me turned its headlights on bright when it got to within fifty feet or so. I had to turn the rearview mirror down to keep from being blinded. I slowed and looked in the side-view mirror.
The vehicle was right on my tail.
I started tapping the brakes to try to get whoever it was to back off. They didn’t. I sped up around a sharp curve but almost lost control in a patch of gravel. When I got the truck straightened back out, the vehicle bumped me.
”Why, you sorry sonofabitch. .” I slammed on the brakes, and the truck skidded to a halt in the middle of a short straightaway. I kept an old aluminum baseball bat under the seat, and I fully intended to use it on the person behind me. I reached down and felt for the bat, hoping whoever it was didn’t have a gun.
With a sudden loud crash, my truck jerked forward. I twisted around and looked out the rear windshield over the bed. I could tell that the vehicle silhouetted behind me was a pickup, bigger than mine, but between the surrounding darkness and the glare of the headlights, I couldn’t make out the color.
It was pushing me along the road.
I turned back and grabbed the wheel, trying to hold the truck straight and pushing on the brakes with all my strength. The tires screamed, but the truck began slowly to turn towards the lake. I tried to turn hard to the right, but the truck behind me had gotten its bumper into my left rear fender and was turning me. I was moving faster by the second, and I had absolutely no control.
A moment later, I felt the right front tire drop off the embankment. I’d been turned almost one hundred eighty degrees. I looked and at last caught a glimpse of the truck that was pushing me. It was a silver Dodge. Then the right rear dropped, and my truck was rolling. My head slammed into the steering wheel and I saw a flash of bright light. I felt a brief sense of dizziness. I thought I heard a splash, then an explosion, and then I thought I was being smothered.
And then it was silent and still. I felt fingers gently rubbing across my forehead.
”Joe,” a voice said. ”Joe, honey, it’s time to wake up. C’mon, baby, you have to wake up.” It was Caroline’s voice.
I awoke to the sound of a rushing waterfall. It was dark, and my wife was nowhere to be found. I looked around. I was leaning hard to my right and being restrained by something. I reached down and realized it was a seat belt. Something was pushing against my face. An air bag. My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I remembered that the Dodge had pushed me over the embankment. I was in the lake, and the sound I heard wasn’t a waterfall; it was the lake rushing in through the open passenger window.
As I struggled with the seat belt, the truck began to level off and more water started pouring in through the driver’s side.
”I am not going to drown!” I said out loud. ”I am not going to drown in this fucking lake!”
I got the belt off, scooted out from beneath the air bag, and crouched in the middle of the seat. Water was pouring in so fast on either side of me that there was no way I could get out. I knew I’d have to wait until the truck was submerged. I looked around frantically. The headlights were still on. I could see bubbles rising as the truck sank in the water. I pulled my shoes off. The water continued to pour and roar.
And then it was black. The water began to cover me. It was so cold I could barely breathe. My face was nearly against the roof as the cab finally filled.
I took a deep breath and pushed myself through the passenger side window. The truck had started to roll in the water, and for a second, I had no idea which direction to swim.
I thought about the bubbles in the headlights. Bubbles rise, Joe. Follow the bubbles. I let out some air and felt the bubbles rise across my face. I kicked for my life, and a few seconds later, I broke the surface.
It was eerily quiet, but the moon gave off enough light that I could make out the features of the landscape around me. I was only about twenty feet from the steep, rocky bank where I’d gone over. I looked up to see whether whoever tried to kill me-and I knew it had to be Junior Tester-was still there. I couldn’t see or hear anyone.
Boone is a mountain lake, and the water was bone chilling. My teeth started chattering and my hands and feet were already beginning to tingle. I knew I had to get out fast. I swam for the bank, got hold of some overhanging brush, and pulled myself up onto the rocks. I sat there for a couple of minutes, caught my breath, and tried to compose myself.
I took inventory of my body first. I didn’t seem to be hurt too badly. My ribs and chest were sore, but I didn’t think I had any broken bones. All of my joints seemed to be in working order and I didn’t have any trouble making a fist with either hand. I noticed something warm running down my face and touched it. I was bleeding from a cut above my left eye. It was tender and beginning to swell, but I didn’t think it was too serious. I looked up the bank and realized how far the truck had fallen. I was lucky to be alive.
It took me at least ten minutes to crawl up the rocky slope to the road. I crouched in some brush for several minutes. A couple of cars went by, but I was afraid to stand up and wave for fear that Junior might come back. I finally mustered the courage to get up and start walking down the asphalt road. I knew there were houses about a mile away. After about a quarter mile, I found myself wishing I hadn’t shed my shoes.
As I walked down the road with my socks squishing and the warm blood running down the side of my face, I wondered if Junior thought he’d succeeded in killing me. What about Caroline and Lilly? Would he be crazy enough to go after one of them? I felt my heart quicken, and I began to jog.
A short time later, I made my way to a farmhouse set about a hundred yards off the road. Nearly every light in the house was on. As I climbed the steps, I looked down and noticed the front of my shirt was soaked with blood. I wondered what kind of reception I’d get when whoever answered the door saw a blood-soaked stranger wearing a tie and no shoes standing on the porch.
I knocked. A small dog immediately started yapping, and a woman who looked to be around seventy soon appeared at the door. She pulled the curtain aside and peered up at me through oval-shaped glasses. Her gray hair was pulled into a tight bun. A look of horror immediately came over her face-I must have looked even worse than I felt.
”What do ye want?” she yelled through the door.
”I’ve been in an accident,” I said. ”I need to use your phone.”
”Air ye drunk?”
”No, ma’am.”
She looked me up and down. ”Soaking wet and ye ain’t got no shoes. Where’s yer shoes?”
”In the lake,” I said. ”My car went into the lake.
I had to swim out.”
”Ye drove yer car into the lake? What’d ye do a damn fool thing like that fer?”
”I didn’t mean to, ma’am. It was an accident.
Please, if you could just hand the phone out the door, I’d really appreciate it.”
”Yer bleeding like a stuck hog.”
”I know. I hit my head.”
”Got a name?”
”Dillard. My name is Joe Dillard.”
”Dillard? Any kin to Hobie and Rena Dillard out Sulphur Springs?”
”I don’t think so. Please, ma’am, do you have a phone I can use?”
”Well, I reckon,” she said after a thoughtful moment. ”Ye don’t look like a hoodlum.”
She opened the door and I stumbled in. It must have been the tie.
June 16
11:00 p.m.