Page 6 of Break Away
“Lucy. Cool dog. What did you think ofZoey?”
“In what sense? She’s got the hot earth-chickvibe going, and is uptight about junk food, but otherwise seemsokay.”
“You know she was the victim of ahit-and-run.”
“Yeah. She’s got a couple of bruises andwalks with a limp. How long ago was it?”
“Ten days.” Brad set his coffee mug on thedesk, the lines of his forehead settling into a frown. “She wascrossing Main Street and going to the old Odd Fellows hall. It’sbeing used as a yoga studio now. It was early evening, twilight.The streetlamps were on and they light that intersection wellenough. She was using the crosswalk and was wearing a bright pinksweatshirt.”
“You’re saying the driver should have seenher.” Levi knew the intersection a few dozen yards from hissister’s café. “What did Zoey say? Did she see the vehicle coming?Give you a description?”
“She said it was an SUV or a truck with ashell over the bed, she wasn’t clear which. Said the color was navyor black, and that it came around the corner fast, not giving hertime to get out of the way.”
“Did she notice anything about the driver?Passengers? Identifying marks on the vehicle?”
“No to all of that. She hasn’t been what we’dconsider cooperative.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Not sure. That’s what you’re going to findout. Use your detective skills, brother. The case is nowyours.”
***
Levi stepped out his door and stood on thestoop for a minute, absorbing the last warmth of the day. He’dstopped at Maddy’s café and had the lucky fortune of finding notonly his mom there but both his sisters. Hard to believe that inaddition to Brad, Maddy and Jenny were married with kids too. Maddywas only a year older than him, but farther down the road in thegetting-her-life-together department. Their impromptu lunch filleda hole Levi hadn’t even been aware had been dug into his heart.That’s what this move home meant—being able to be a daily part ofthe lives of the people most important to him.
Snow on the high slopes of the mountains tothe west gleamed as the sun began its descent behind the peaks.Closer around the cabin, aspens wore the bright green of their latespring colors. He filled his lungs with the pine-scented air healways associated with home. Summer, his favorite time of the year,was weeks away, but the warm days were already signaling itsarrival.
He opened the back of the Suburban he’dborrowed from a coworker to haul his stuff home. He’d have toreturn it on the weekend and retrieve the motorcycle he’d left inthe friend’s garage. He thought of what Zoey said about theSuburban. Big, black with dark tinted windows, he guessed it kindof looked like a hearse.
He took in the haphazard mess in the back ofthe truck. Why the hell hadn’t he packed with a little morefinesse? Oh yeah. He’d wanted to get out of Oakland so bad he’d allbut thrown his shit in the Suburban and took off like the wind.Since the cabin was furnished, he’d been able to get rid of most ofhis possessions, only keeping clothes, books, and some electronics.A pathetic showing for thirty-three years of life.
Something touched his leg and he foundhimself reaching for the weapon that was no longer in a holster athis shoulder. He cursed the instinctive response as Lucy stared athim, her head level with his belt. She wore a sturdy-looking orangeand gray pack secured to her back with a harness around her chest.Large pouches bulged at her sides, and he guessed the hand strap inthe middle was designed so you could grab the dog if there was aproblem. But if that dog wanted to go, she’d be a one-hundred-poundbulldozer and he didn’t think anything, including Zoey, would stopher. He wondered who weighed more, the dog or her owner.
He reached out a hand. “Hey, Luce. You beingput to work?”
Lucy planted her nose on his leg again as hestroked her head, leaving a wet spot on his jeans. She had long,fine fur that had to be a bitch to keep brushed. He stoppedpetting, and she nudged his hand with her nose. “Got it, don’tstop, right?” He gave her a vigorous rub on her side, and she letout a throaty groan.
He kept stroking, and in seconds, despite herdoggie backpack, she was on her back, paws in the air, swishing hertail in the pine needles. He went down on a knee to scratch herbelly. “We’re not going to get in trouble with the short one if youget dirty, are we?”
“The short one?”
Shit. “Did I say short one? I meant mightyone.” He glanced up. The hot earth chick now looked more likenature girl and, like the dog, carried a backpack over hershoulders. She had switched up her hippie-dippie clothing to shortsthat showed toned legs perfectly proportioned to her small stature,and a sleeveless top, which hugged her small breasts. The mass ofdark curls was pulled back in a ponytail, and sunglasses coveredher eyes, hiding their color. If he remembered right, they weredark.
“Nice recovery. The national average heightfor women in the US is five foot four, so at five three, I’m almostaverage.”
“I stand corrected.” He rose to his feet andtowered over her.
She took off her glasses to give him anexaggerated once-over. Her eyes were brown, a rich golden brown.“Not all of us can be all long legs and long body. What are you,six three?”
“About that.” The dog scrambled up besidethem, giving herself a shake that had fur flying and the sidepouches of her pack snapping back and forth. “You guys headingout?”
“We’re hiking up to Ruby Lake. It’s onlyabout three miles round-trip to the overlook. We’ll get back beforeit’s all the way dark.”
“I know where it is. The trailhead is about ahundred yards up the road. Want company?” The question was out ofhis mouth before he could think it through. A short hike with hermight be an opportunity to find out what was up with her lack ofcooperation over the hit-and-run. Then there was that hotearth-chick vibe.
Still, she hadn’t been exactly friendly. Healmost hoped she’d turn him down.
“Ah, sure. If you like.”
