Page 11 of Doc
“You need to take this to the President.”My voice came out rougher than I’d intended.
Nova’s gaze locked with mine.“I need more than that.I need to go to the crash site.There might be evidence the police missed -- or ignored.”Her gaze was unflinching, challenging me to deny her.“Will you take me there, Doc?”
I should have said no.Should have told her to wait, to let the club handle it.But looking at the slight tremble in her lower lip she was trying so hard to control, I knew I wasn’t going to refuse her.Not this time.
“When?”I asked instead.
“Now.”She was already reaching for her phone.“Tonight.Before anyone else can get to whatever’s there.Right now, I think they’re aware I don’t think the deaths were accidental.But they don’t know I’m actively digging into this.”
I nodded slowly, already calculating the risks, the precautions we’d need to take.“Pack up what you need.I’ll let the Prospect on guard duty know we’re heading out.”
As she gathered her materials, I watched her small hands moving with purpose among the evidence of her mother’s last investigation.Nova Treemont was walking a dangerous path, and somehow, against my better judgment, I’d agreed to walk it with her.
While she gathered her things, I leaned closer to the photographs spread across Nova’s bed, and I studied the crash scenes with fresh eyes.What had initially looked like random damage now revealed a pattern -- a signature of sorts.The indentation on the driver’s side quarter panel of Mary-Jane’s car wasn’t from hitting the guardrail.It was an impact point, likely from another vehicle.Whoever had done this knew exactly how much force to apply and where to send a car careening off the road while making it look like driver error.
“Let me see that toxicology report.”I held out my hand without looking up.
Nova passed me the paper, her fingers brushing against mine.I ignored the jolt of awareness that simple contact triggered, focusing instead on the medical data in front of me.
“Your father’s blood alcohol level was 0.02.”I scanned the numbers.“Barely registrable.One beer, maybe.”
“Dad rarely drank at all.Mom said he was allergic to something in most alcohol.Made him break out in hives.”
I nodded, flipping to the next page.“No other substances in his system.No medical conditions that would cause him to lose control.”I set the report down and picked up a close-up photo of the tire marks at the scene.“These skid patterns… maybe it’s just me, but they seem consistent with a vehicle trying to correct after being struck from behind at an angle.No way the police didn’t notice.”
Nova leaned in, her shoulder pressing against my arm as she looked where I was pointing.The scent of her shampoo, something floral and clean, drifted up, momentarily distracting me.
“So they were definitely forced off the road?”Her voice held equal parts vindication and horror.
“I’d stake my medical license on it.Look here.”I pointed to another photo showing the undercarriage of her parents’ car.“See this damage to the rear axle?It’s not consistent with the impact of hitting the guardrail or going down the embankment.This happened before the crash.”
I turned to another photo, this one showing Robert Harland’s vehicle.“And here, what you discovered earlier, almost identical damage pattern.Someone hit them from behind at the same angle, targeting the wheel assembly.”
Nova’s breath caught.“They knew exactly what they were doing.”
“They did.”My jaw tightened.“This isn’t amateur work.Whoever did this has either done it multiple times or had professional training.And I mean more times than the accidents we know of.”
I sorted through more of the crash photos, my mind cataloging details the average observer -- even police investigators -- might miss.The glass shattered in a way that showed someone had already compromised the windows before the main impact.The position of the bodies revealed they had lost consciousness before the car hit the bottom of the ravine.
“There’s something else.”I pulled out the coroner’s report on her parents.“Your mother had bruising on her wrists and forearms.The report attributes it to the crash, but…” I pointed to the pattern of discoloration in the photos.“These are defensive wounds.She was trying to protect herself from something -- or someone -- before the crash.”
Nova’s face paled, freckles standing out starkly against her skin.“You’re saying someone attacked them before forcing them off the road?”
“I’m saying it’s a possibility we can’t rule out.”I kept my voice steady, clinical, even as rage built inside me over what someone had done to this woman’s parents.My money was on the couple being attacked, fleeing to their car, and then being run off the road.“The report notes these injuries but dismisses them too quickly.Someone wanted this investigation closed fast.”
Nova’s hands trembled as she gathered the photos, but her voice remained steady.“That’s why we need to go to the crash site.Tonight.Before they realize what we’ve figured out.”
I studied her face, noting the set of her jaw and unflinching resolve stamped on her features.“Nova, it’s been weeks.Any evidence at the scene will be long gone.”
“Maybe not.”She flipped open her mother’s notebook.“Look at this entry from three weeks before she died.‘Dash cam installed as precaution.Manual activation switch under steering column.Evidence backup protocol in place.’”
My eyebrows rose.“Your mother installed a dash cam?”
“She was paranoid about being followed.Dad thought she was overreacting, but he let her install it anyway.”Her finger traced the words in her mother’s handwriting.“If that camera was still in the car when they went off the road…”
“The police would have found it,” I pointed out.
“Would they?Or would they have been told to overlook it?”Nova countered.“The car was totaled, Doc.No one was looking for a hidden camera, especially if they didn’t want to find evidence of foul play.”
