The Girl Who Survived(54)

He grabbed the steering wheel.

“No—are you crazy?”

“Fuck.” Leaning over her, he jerked on the wheel. He was twisted over the console.

“Don’t!” she cried, seeing only swirling snow in the windshield, feeling a cold terror. This was all wrong!

Another blast from the truck’s horn.

Terror clawed at her heart.

Close! The truck was close!

Oh, God, so damned close.

As the Jeep spun wildly, she peered through the curtain of snow and pressed hard on the brakes, standing on them.

They had to stop, to find a way—

Jesus, was that the semi’s huge grill bearing down on them? Above the massive hood, the driver in the cab was chalk face and working the steering wheel.

“Get out of the way!” Jonas screamed as if the trucker could hear him. “Get the fuck out of the way!”

Too late!

They were going to hit!

The driver, so close, was blasting them with the horn and cranking hard the steering wheel.

“Shhiiiiit!” Jonas yelled.

Kara braced herself.

Screamed.

Eighteen wheels thundered through snow that had collected at the edge of the road. The top of the trailer skimming the lowest tree branches, ice sheering, limbs snapping, snow and needles and shards of wood flying over the truck, scattering across the road.

With a squeal of brakes, the tractor trailer seemed to move in slow motion as the cab swept past, the Cherokee still out of control, the back end of the truck swinging as the rig jackknifed.

“Fuck!” Jonah yanked even harder on the wheel.

The Jeep jerked, careening to the side of the road, just as the back end of the trailer clipped the SUV’s rear bumper.

Reeling faster and faster, the SUV spun crazily toward the piled snow on the edge of the road and the canyon beyond.

“Hold on!” Jonas yelled as the SUV tore through the snowbank, ice and snow clods flinging in all directions. Flying into the abyss, hurtling forward, the Jeep went airborne.

Branches snapped, scraping metal.

The tires landed, the whole vehicle jarring.

A huge fir tree loomed.

“Kara, watch out—”

Bam!

The Jeep shuddered as it crashed into the tree, steel groaning as it crumpled.

Emergency airbags inflated.

Glass rained into her hair.

Cold air surrounded her.

Jonas screamed in agony, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

From far away, as her eyes closed, she heard the honk of a huge vehicle’s horn. The sound was steady and mournful, a one-note funeral dirge drowning out the sound of her brother’s moans.

“Jonas . . .” she tried to say, but the sound was a whisper. She was going to die. Right here on this frozen mountainside. Maybe if she could find her phone and call . . . the thought crossed her mind, but only for a second and then everything went dark.





CHAPTER 16


“Wouldn’t you know?” Johnson said as the body bag carrying

Merritt Margrove’s corpse was slammed into the back of the ambulance. “The lieutenant finally hands you the case that has consumed you for years and a primary witness, the damned attorney for the man convicted of the crime, has his throat slit before you even have a chance to question him. How’s that for irony?”

“Or convenience,” Thomas said as he eyed the trailer where the attorney had lost his life. The place that probably had looked peaceful, an aging single-wide mobile home nestled in the snowy woods, was now crawling with cops, vehicles parked between the trees, yellow tape strung around the perimeter, the quietude disturbed. Inside the aging mobile home was a bloody crime scene, the forensic team and ME already having examined the mobile home and surrounding area. All the while, snow just kept falling, disturbing any footprints and tire tracks.

And it was cold as a mother up here.

Despite his down jacket and gloves and hat, he felt the chill, the bitter wind harsh against his face.

Johnson didn’t seem to notice as she studied the grounds, watching the ambulance roll away. Things had been tense between them since the meeting in Gleason’s office when he’d felt as if his own partner had been holding out on him. He’d confronted her in the hallway, telling her that she’d crossed a line with him, that either they were a team of equals who shared info and worked together, or they weren’t.

Johnson hadn’t seemed chastised as they’d walked down the crowded hallway, jostled by a steady stream of cops heading the opposite direction. Instead, she’d thrown him a disbelieving look. “We are a team,” she’d said, skirting a potted plant in the reception area. “We share information, but that doesn’t mean either of us is looking over the other’s shoulder. I guess I should have told you about asking for new DNA results. I thought you trusted me.”

“We just need to work together.”

“I was just being efficient.” Her lips had twisted downward. “I figure that’s a good thing, right. We weren’t just spinning our wheels.”

“But you didn’t let me know.”

“Oh, Christ, Thomas, I wasn’t keeping anything from you! Jesus! It’s just there’s a lot going on and we were called in to report to the lieutenant before I could share.” She’d let out a huff. “Get over your bad self. Let’s just solve the damned case. Together.”