Page 10 of Hold Your Breath
“No. Donnie stays open ’til six, so we should make it in time to pick up your tire.”
With a frown, she buckled her seat belt. It was a good dozen miles from the fire station to Donnie’s Auto Shop. “You don’t have to take me all the way there. Home’s fine.”
“I’m not leaving you in the middle of nowhere without a vehicle.”
“Um…okay. Thanks.” She squirmed a little, playing with the seat belt strap. Dusk had fallen quickly as usual, the sun dropping behind the mountain peaks to the west and turning the undersides of the clouds a dull red. The flat expanse of the high plains stretched out to their right, while a vertical cliff paralleled the left side of the road. Smaller rocks were scattered along the snow-packed shoulder, reminding Lou that rockslide season was approaching. The dramatic scenery couldn’t keep her mind off of the grisly discovery at the reservoir, though. “Think the sheriff is still out on the ice?”
He shrugged. “Probably. Doubt he’ll bring in the state investigators until tomorrow, though.”
“State investigators?”
“Colorado BCA.” At her blank look, he elaborated, “Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. They help out the smaller law enforcement agencies with forensics, investigations, that sort of thing.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a moment. “Rob seems pretty competent.”
“He is, but it’s been a few years since there’s been a murder in Field County—one like this, at least.”
“You mean because of the headlessness?”
“That, and, if there is a murder, it’s usually obvious who did it. Domestics, drunken arguments, things like that.”
“Right.”
After a few minutes of quiet, Callum looked at her, opened his mouth as if he were going to speak, and then closed it again with a shake of his head.
“What?” she asked, curious. It wasn’t like him to be twitchy or uncertain.
He didn’t answer for what felt like a long time. Then suddenly, he said, “You did well today, Sparks.”
“Thanks.” She blew out a breath, surprised when it came out shaky. She thought she’d worked through the shakes and had arrived at sheer exhaustion. “I didn’t feel like I did well. I kicked the poor, dead bastard.”
“It got him to the surface, didn’t it? The killer was probably hoping he wouldn’t be found for another three months.” He paused before continuing. “You handled yourself well. Didn’t get hysterical or even puke like Chad.”
“Poor Chad.”
Callum gave a short shake of his head. “Needs to toughen up before summer season.”
She winced but had to ask. “Lots of bodies?”
“Some.” He glanced at her. “You’ll do fine. Just get good tires on your truck so you can get to calls.”
“I’ll move it up on my list.” Obviously, those ten-ply tires were the bone Callum was not going to stop chewing. She was a little proud of herself for her calm, nonsnarky response. It was best not to aggravate the man driving twenty-five miles to pick up her patched tire and, hopefully, help her change it.
“Do that.”
As they approached a county road intersection, the lone streetlight briefly illuminated the interior of the truck cab. Lou’s casual glance at Callum turned into a stare. He was actually smiling! It did strange things to her insides, turning the unpleasant churning from the day’s events into something lighter and warmer.
Darkness overtook the truck again, and that fleeting smile was gone. Callum remained silent, so Lou rested her head back and closed her eyes. She’d been right when she’d thought it was going to be a hell of a day—and it wasn’t over yet.
* * *
Donnie had heard about the body and really wanted to talk about it. Lou just wanted to pick up her tire and go home, so she let Callum handle the conversation. It was nice to use his surliness for good instead of evil. After ten minutes of receiving grunts and monosyllabic replies to his questions, Donnie gave up and led them to her tire. Her still-flat tire.
“Couldn’t fix it, Lou. Sorry.” He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “It had a slice, a big one, about four inches. Almost looked like someone cut it with a knife.”
“After the grader evens out the gravel road by my house, sometimes the blade sharpens the edges of the embedded rocks.” She poked at the cut that had killed her tire. “Could it have been from that?”
“Maybe.” Donnie looked skeptical. “Doubt the grader’s been by recently, though. I don’t know about your road, but mine’s still pretty snow-covered. There’s a chance the plow blade could’ve sharpened a rock, I guess.” By his tone, it seemed he thought that chance was a very small one.
