Tumbled Graves by Brenda Chapman Page A

kid was pretty much sleeping his way across Ontario as it was.
    Walter checked his side mirror. Some asshole in a dark-coloured truck had been riding his ass since Trenton. The number of idiot drivers was on the rise. Time was, he might have had some fun with the driver on his tail, but now he just wanted to get through his run without a hassle. He slowed down to let the guy pass. The Ford pickup pulled alongside when the driver put his foot into it and sped off. Walter had just had time to glimpse a good old boy wearing a ball cap behind the wheel. No accounting for the games drivers played to ease the boredom. He’d seen the gambit from annoying to downright dangerous.
    The rain started the other side of Napanee; a hard slanting rain that drummed down on the roof of the cab like going through a car wash. The noise was loud enough to wake Jed from a sound sleep. He pulled the ear buds out and yawned.
    â€œWhen did the rain start, Dad?”
    â€œA few minutes ago.”
    â€œSounds like bullets on the roof.”
    â€œIt’s one nasty storm. Looks to be coming off the lake.”
    â€œWhere are we, anyway?” Jed leaned forward and squinted through the front windshield. The wipers were on high, snapping across the glass like they were on steroids.
    â€œWe’ll be in Kingston in about fifteen minutes. That would be Lake Ontario off to our right. If this keeps up, I’ll find a place to pull over so we can get a coffee and have a break.”
    â€œI could eat something.”
    Walter drained the last of the Red Bull and turned his full concentration on the road. The 401 was a four-lane highway — two lanes in each direction — and straight for the most part. He was glad that he wasn’t on one of the smaller highways with visibility down to almost nothing. The load of produce in the trailer was heavy enough to keep the wind from battering the truck around too much. The darkness combined with the rain was unnerving. Every so often, red brake lights flashed ahead of him, giving him an idea of curves in the road.
    Even Jed appeared to sense that this was a dangerous situation. He put away his iPad and kept his eyes on the road. A bell sounded in his pocket and he reached for his phone.
    â€œMom just sent a text. She’s asking if we’re caught in the storm.” Jed grinned at his dad. “She watches the weather channel when she can’t sleep.”
    â€œI know. It’s not the first time she’s called me in the middle of the night.”
    â€œWhat should I tell her?”
    â€œThat we’re fine and pulling into the next rest stop to wait this out.”
    Thunder rumbled overhead as Jed’s thumbs worked away on the screen. A jagged streak of lightning cracked the sky. A few seconds after Jed finished typing, the bell rang again. Jed looked down and then up. “She says to let her know when we get there.”
    â€œTell her ten-four.”
    They passed the first of the off ramps into Kingston. Walter was reluctant to get off the highway. He wanted to be through Montreal before morning and any long delay would be a problem. He passed the second exit.
    Walter chanced a quick glance at his son. Jed’s face was pale and worried in the glow from the dashboard.
    â€œDad, this is really bad. Where are we going to stop?”
    â€œNothing’s open this time of night except the rest stops on the highway. I was thinking we could make the one at Mallorytown. I’ll even treat you to a hamburger and fries.”
    â€œHow far?”
    â€œAn hour, maybe.”
    â€œYou’re okay to drive that far in this storm?”
    â€œIt’s letting up.”
    A crack of thunder made a liar of him. The last exit into Kingston slid past on their right. Now they were committed to keep going until at least Gananoque, another thirty minutes with the storm. He could pull off the road there if the rain was still coming down in torrents. The