didn’t belong to the young man from The Pub? What if the car belonged to…someone else? Perhaps someone who had stolen into town with the intention of committing some…malicious…act? Like the malicious act that had been committed against Stacy.
Just because statistics said that Stacy was likely killed by an acquaintance didn’t mean that was the case. There was definitely a stranger in Fells Pointe. She was looking at the stranger’s car, hidden in the bushes on the side of a deserted dirt road, which was suspicious, to say the least.
And if that stranger was the person who’d killed Stacy, then maybe she shouldn’t be standing there all by herself, gawking at his car!
A jagged line of fear raced through Lanie, but she didn’t turn to leave. Instead, she hit the speed dial on her phone and pressed it to her ear. Her father should know about this, even if the car wound up belonging to a handsome young man who needed the car to sleep in. If the handsome young man hadn’t done anything wrong, then her dad would let him have his car back and he could be on his way.
However, her call went to voice mail instead of going straight through, which had never happened before. Sam Bancroft was obviously busy with his current case and wasn’t taking calls at the moment. She’d keep trying, but just in case, she needed to get as much information as she could while she was there. The car might wind up disappearing before her dad could get to it. She hit the button on her phone that activated the camera and snapped a picture of the car. It was backed in off the road, so she couldn’t get the license plate unless she went into the bushes, which was what she decided to do.
Feeling slightly as if she was taking her life into her hands, but mostly because she knew her dad would kill her when he found out what she was doing, she stepped off the dirt road and into the overgrown shrubs, pushing through the limbs and snapping pictures of the inside of the car as she went. The blanket and the pillow were still on the backseat and the large duffel bag was still in the floorboard. The front floorboard was scattered with empty soda cans and fast food wrappers and the large front seat was covered with what looked like dozens of maps. Some were rolled up, some were crumpled up, some were laid out flat, but there were dozens of maps and several road atlases there.
Something about seeing all those maps covering the seat sent a shiver through Lanie and she quickly snapped a picture and moved on around the car to the rear, which allowed her to document the license plate. The plates were from Georgia and they had expired three months before. If nothing else, that would get the owner of the vehicle a ticket. She felt bad about that, but there was nothing she could do about it. Sheriff Bancroft would not let that minor offense slide.
Once she’d taken all the pictures she thought necessary, she started working her way out of the overgrown bushes, hitting her dad’s number as she went. She was still directed to voice mail, so she glanced down at her phone, disconnecting so she could try again.
“What are you doing out here!” a deep voice boomed, causing fear to shoot through Lanie and forcing a loud shriek from her throat.
Her gaze flew up toward the voice, landing on a very tall figure wearing a long leather coat and high combat boots, a figure with a mop of messy wheat colored hair and a ruggedly handsome face. Another shard of fear shot through Lanie and she shrieked again, taking a few steps backward, away from the ruggedly handsome figure who she really, really hoped was not the person responsible for…doing that…to Stacy.
“What are you doing here!” the young man demanded again, taking a step forward, his large, sparkling green eyes regarding her with open suspicion.
“Uh, I-I…I w-was…wasn’t doing anything,” she fumbled, taking several more steps backward, her mind
Just because statistics said that Stacy was likely killed by an acquaintance didn’t mean that was the case. There was definitely a stranger in Fells Pointe. She was looking at the stranger’s car, hidden in the bushes on the side of a deserted dirt road, which was suspicious, to say the least.
And if that stranger was the person who’d killed Stacy, then maybe she shouldn’t be standing there all by herself, gawking at his car!
A jagged line of fear raced through Lanie, but she didn’t turn to leave. Instead, she hit the speed dial on her phone and pressed it to her ear. Her father should know about this, even if the car wound up belonging to a handsome young man who needed the car to sleep in. If the handsome young man hadn’t done anything wrong, then her dad would let him have his car back and he could be on his way.
However, her call went to voice mail instead of going straight through, which had never happened before. Sam Bancroft was obviously busy with his current case and wasn’t taking calls at the moment. She’d keep trying, but just in case, she needed to get as much information as she could while she was there. The car might wind up disappearing before her dad could get to it. She hit the button on her phone that activated the camera and snapped a picture of the car. It was backed in off the road, so she couldn’t get the license plate unless she went into the bushes, which was what she decided to do.
Feeling slightly as if she was taking her life into her hands, but mostly because she knew her dad would kill her when he found out what she was doing, she stepped off the dirt road and into the overgrown shrubs, pushing through the limbs and snapping pictures of the inside of the car as she went. The blanket and the pillow were still on the backseat and the large duffel bag was still in the floorboard. The front floorboard was scattered with empty soda cans and fast food wrappers and the large front seat was covered with what looked like dozens of maps. Some were rolled up, some were crumpled up, some were laid out flat, but there were dozens of maps and several road atlases there.
Something about seeing all those maps covering the seat sent a shiver through Lanie and she quickly snapped a picture and moved on around the car to the rear, which allowed her to document the license plate. The plates were from Georgia and they had expired three months before. If nothing else, that would get the owner of the vehicle a ticket. She felt bad about that, but there was nothing she could do about it. Sheriff Bancroft would not let that minor offense slide.
Once she’d taken all the pictures she thought necessary, she started working her way out of the overgrown bushes, hitting her dad’s number as she went. She was still directed to voice mail, so she glanced down at her phone, disconnecting so she could try again.
“What are you doing out here!” a deep voice boomed, causing fear to shoot through Lanie and forcing a loud shriek from her throat.
Her gaze flew up toward the voice, landing on a very tall figure wearing a long leather coat and high combat boots, a figure with a mop of messy wheat colored hair and a ruggedly handsome face. Another shard of fear shot through Lanie and she shrieked again, taking a few steps backward, away from the ruggedly handsome figure who she really, really hoped was not the person responsible for…doing that…to Stacy.
“What are you doing here!” the young man demanded again, taking a step forward, his large, sparkling green eyes regarding her with open suspicion.
“Uh, I-I…I w-was…wasn’t doing anything,” she fumbled, taking several more steps backward, her mind
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