Chapter 15: In Front of the Truck

Lydia's POV

The text from Stefan came while I was on the bakery steps with my coat half on.

Alder Road. They're taking the car. Come now.

Roscoe had been at Jessamine's table since dawn, eating her scones and reading the transcript of what I'd recorded.

He took one look at my face and got his keys.

"I drive," Jessamine said, and pulled them out of his hand.

She took the turns with both hands on the wheel and her red ponytail flying, and Roscoe held the door handle in the back seat.

"The car's registered to Stefan's father's estate," he said. "She's the executor. She can sell it to a crusher legally."

"Then we make it not worth doing."

"How?"

"Loudly," I said.

The gate on Alder Road was open.

A flatbed truck stood in the drive with a cable running into the garage, and its driver, a heavy man in a company jacket, stood with his arms folded.

Stefan was in front of him in his good suit, with no tie.

"I'm telling you it's evidence," he said.

"And I'm telling you I've got a work order signed by the owner," the driver said. "Sir, I'm not paid to read the law."

Along the road the neighbors had begun to gather, a woman in a robe with a small dog and two men from the house next door.

A young reporter in a green coat stood at the curb with her phone held up, and I recognized her from the hospital steps.

"Lydia Garrick!" she called. "Is it true this car was in a fatal accident?"

"Keep filming," I said.

I walked up the gravel past Stefan, and he turned his head.

"Lydia."

"Don't."

I went into the garage.

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