Page 28 of One Little Memory
Aiden moved around to the back of the vehicle. “No plate.”
“Say again?” Phoenix demanded.
“No plate. The license plate is gone.”
“Shit.”
Jo started scanning the hillside as did Phoenix, but then it hit her. The sound. The tin sound and the scratching. “Someone, the man that was at the car, removed the plate. I remember the sound. I couldn’t place it at first, but now I remember.”
Phoenix swore again. Jory and Aiden spent another ten minutes walking around the car, checking things out, but nothing turned up.
“Sorry, man. I know you were hoping for something to help you out,” Jory said as he went by on his way to the fire truck to change out of his gear. He offered a sympathetic smile to Jo.
“Thanks for trying,” she said. She wanted to cry. The disappointment was just so overwhelming. “I’m going to go sit in the truck, if that’s okay. I’m starting to ache a bit.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Phoenix said and then went over to speak to Jory and Aiden.
Jo sat in the truck and stared out the side window. What did she know? The car was a rental, and she was pretty sure she hit someone with it. Someone else hadn’t helped her when she crashed. They’d stolen her purse and taken the license plate off the car. What did that mean?
“Someone wanted me dead,” she whispered. Or, at the very least, they assumed she was going to die, and they wanted to make it very hard to identify her body. And if she knew this, then chances were excellent that Phoenix knew it. But did he knowshe’d hit someone with her car? Wait. How had Gus—what was his last name? Marchand. Gus Marchand. How had he died?Holy Toledo!Had she killed Gus Marchand?
CHAPTER 12
“You’re sure?”Phoenix asked in a quiet voice. His stomach was knotted, and he felt slightly ill.
Aiden nodded. “I’m sorry, man. There was blood and threads on the grill. I took pictures, like you asked.
“Okay, send them to me.” So, he’d been right. Johadhit Gus Marchand. Now the question was, did she kill him?
“Anything else?”
Aiden stowed his gear on the fire truck. “I also took a picture of the VIN number. I’ll send you that as well. At least you can track down the rental agency with it.”
He nodded. Somehow, that did not make him feel better. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Aiden squeezed Phoenix’s shoulder and then went to put the rest of his gear away. Phoenix made his way over to his police SUV. It was what he’d suspected from the beginning. Jo’s accident and Gus Marchand’s murder were connected.
The question was, how?
He climbed into the SUV. “How are you doing?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m glad the memories are coming back, even if it’s just in flashes, but they just don’t make sense. Why would someone take the license plate?”
He stared at her. He had a feeling she knew the reason. She was smart, and she would have figured it out, but maybe she was asking because she wanted confirmation. On the other hand, maybe she killed Gus Marchand. Maybe she had an accomplice that left her for dead and wanted a head start to get away, so he took anything that could identify her. Whatever the reasons were, it was obvious now that Jo was in a whole world of trouble.
“Aiden got the VIN number for the car. I want to go to the office and see if I can track it down. I can drop you at the garage apartment if you want.”
“I’d rather come with you. I need to be doing something. Sitting there, waiting for more of my memory to come back, is too frustrating.”
He thought about it for a minute and then nodded. At least if she was with him, then he knew she was safe. He could also keep an eye on her. Friend or foe, he didn’t know yet, but she was up to her eyeballs in this mess.
As soon as they walked into the station, Phoenix offered her a cup of tea.
“Just water, thanks,” she said.
He found her a desk to sit at and set her up with a computer to look at mug shots. Was it her partner or a stranger that left her for dead? Either way, it was a long shot, but maybe she’d recognize the man. He might already be in the system.
While Jo started flipping through pages, Phoenix immediately ran the VIN. It came back to a small rental car company just outside Philadelphia. Unfortunately, they were closed on Sunday, so he tried their emergency number. It went straight to voicemail. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
