Page 100 of South of Nowhere

Shaw continued, “Then the skid marks on the asphalt just south of the levee? Where your Camaro ended up just after the collapse. There were both front-andrear-wheel skid marks. The front werebrake marks. The rear were from acceleration. You made it off the levee and hit the brakes. Then I’m guessing you debated for a minute, made a decision, hit the gas and drove down that old trail to the base of Copper Peak.”

She lifted an eyebrow, clearly impressed with his deduction. “You’re like a detective.”

Sherlock Holmes, her non-fiancé had called him.

“I found your phone—where youmeantit to be found. It looked like you were doing a YouTube or Instagram video. But the camera was pointed at the rear wheels. If it had been legitimate you would have included yourself in the driver’s seat, looking at the camera, narrating. But you couldn’t have any footage there—since you weren’tinthe driver seat. You were standing outside the open window and using a stick to push the accelerator after you turned the wheel to the right. I saw those footprints.

“Another thing that made me suspicious? He had your passcode. Husband and wife, longtime married, maybe. But a younger couple, engaged or not. No. Passcodes would be secret. By the way, he leapt in after you.”

“What?That river? Jesus. He can’t swim. Not very well. We go to the Caribbean and mostly he struts. He shows off in front of the women. I’m not allowed to talk to anyone, but he can flirt all he wants.”

“He’s obsessed with you.”

Lavelle scoffed. “A bank robber’s loot. You saved him?”

Shaw had to smile at the hint of regret in her voice.

“I can’t believe I’m baring my soul to you.” A shrug. “But there aren’t a lot of people I can talk to.”

Shaw heard this often. Successful tracking required good listening, and he was fortunate that doing so was a talent he came by naturally.

He looked at the cut on her arm. “Part of your act, the blood on your jacket?”

“Nail file. Stings like hell.”

“Let me see it.”

Superficial.

“Bandages?”

“Band-Aids. In there.” She nodded to her gym bag.

“Cover it. You’ll be fine.”

“My car…can it be fixed? I’m writing a fantasy novel.” She gestured to a notebook. “About a magic sleigh my hero was riding in. I have a subplot where it’s injured and she saves it. But what about my real car?”

“Probably. But you’ll have to leave it there for now. Keep up the fiction for the time being.”

“I figured.”

He nodded. “What exactly was your plan?”

“Originally, I was just going to the spa to get away. He let me go because I told him I was going to work on my weight. He’s been after me for that.”

“He hinted as much when I interviewed him.”

Her jaw clenched in anger. Then she said, “What I was going to do was eat donuts and popcorn and write my book. Get away from him for four days.

“But then the more I drove, not answering the phone, not hearing his voice, I felt free. And then the dam collapsed. It was like a sign. And I thought: What an opportunity! I jumped at the chance. It would seem like I’d died in a natural disaster. One more victim of the flood. My body disappeared. The car found at the bottom of a river. It’d look real.

“I needed to find a place to be out of the storm…I couldn’t get a motel room. He’s on all the credit cards. I read about these old mines on the county’s website. This was one of them. Look, I know, Mr. Shaw—”

“Colter.”

“It all sounds so weird. But I was desperate to get out.” Hervoice choked. Tears started to fall. “I was so goddamn stupid. Getting myself into this mess. At first, he was so kind, and interested in me and so romantic. Not much humor. That should’ve been a clue. He was too…”

She was thinking of the right word.

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