At the Crossroads (Buckhorn, Montana #3)(33)



“Sorry, Mom,” he whispered under his breath as the van roared toward the bridge and the two wooden signs that someone had crudely painted with the words Danger and Bridge Closed.

The front of the van hit the first sign, sending it cartwheeling off to the side as the second sign crashed into the windshield before being flung off. And suddenly they were up on the wooden planks that had once spanned the river.

That’s when Bobby saw how many of the boards had rotted away. He hesitated, and Gene saw him. The bullet tore into his side, burning through his stomach and lodging in the door panel. He hadn’t had to look at Gene to know he would shoot again. He stomped down on the gas harder. He could feel the boards breaking under the tires, under the weight of the van. He could see the rushing water and boulders below them, feel the bridge groan and shudder under them.

As the searing heat of the bullet doubled him over the steering wheel, all he could do was keep his foot pressed to the gas pedal. It no longer mattered. And yet, a part of him was determined to see if he could reach the other side of the river before he died.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN


CULHANE SLOWED TO a walk at a rise in the road. He could smell the water and the scent of decomposing leaves in the air. He could see the willows and cottonwoods growing along the edge of the water and hear the wind blowing through their bare branches. He stopped to listen, but all he could hear was the wind rustling the dry leaves at his feet.

Dropping down into the barrow pit next to the road, he edged his way to the top of the rise until he heard a sound that made him stop—the roar of an engine and then the sound of a crash, the kind that twisted metal and broke glass.

He topped the rise, his weapon drawn, to see a cluster of old, dilapidated buildings squatting next to the river. The water looked deep and dark, as it rushed over large boulders in the middle of the stream. That’s when he saw the bridge. Or what was left of it. Surely they hadn’t tried to cross it. Even from where he stood he could tell that most of the bridge had rotted away.

He knew before he dropped down the slope to the water. The sound he’d heard had been the jarring sudden impact of a vehicle crashing into something solid. Beyond the old structures, he looked across the river and saw steam rising from the van’s engine that was now wedged into the far bank on the other side of the river.

The fools had tried to cross the bridge—and they’d almost made it. Following the fresh tracks the van tires had left, he ran to the edge of the river—and the tumbledown bridge over the water. Off to one side a weathered warning sign lay in the dirt. At the edge of the water lay another sign of caution. This one had been split in two after apparently being hit by the force of the van.

The vehicle had to have been moving at a high speed when it hit the signs blocking entry. Bobby, if he were still driving, would have had to be out of his mind to try to cross what was obviously an abandoned bridge. He could see where the missing boards had rotted away and plunged into the river. More of them were broken and hanging loose.

Culhane quickly climbed up onto the bridge and looked across to the other side. The wind tore at his clothing and kicked up dust along the shore. He squinted, thinking he saw movement next to the van. Bobby had almost made it all the way across before going off and driving into the embankment on the other side with obvious force. The back of the van lay in the river, water rushing around it.

The driver’s door stood open, and so did the passenger door. Culhane couldn’t tell if there was anyone still inside or not. He couldn’t imagine how anyone had survived the crash. But with the doors open, it was possible they had gotten out. So where were they?

Gene was badly injured from the knife wound. He couldn’t have gotten far. If Bobby had survived the crash, he could be anywhere. The man in the back, Gus, had to be dead. Culhane had known that the man’s gunshot wound was serious when he’d seen Earl Ray’s grim expression when he’d returned to the café to wash the blood off his hands the first time. They’d thrown out Tina to give them time to escape. But faced with the river and no way out but the bridge, they’d taken a gamble that he doubted had paid off.

But there was only one way to know if anyone was still alive. Culhane told himself that crossing over the bridge—especially after the damage the van had caused—was a fool’s errand. They were probably all dead. Or someone could be lying in wait inside the vehicle.

Either way, Culhane had to find out. He could only hope that Bobby was alive. Bobby could clear him of the murder charges. Or at least tell him if Jana was still alive and where he might find her. His future depended on it.

He considered the deep, swift current of the river with its large boulders just below the surface. Swimming it wasn’t an option. The bridge was even more dangerous. A gust of wind sent the dry leaves whirling past. Somewhere close by, a hawk cried out before the scene took on an eerie wind-scoured quiet for a moment.

Cautiously, Culhane began to pick his way along the rotted boards.

ALEXIS DROPPED TINA off at the hospital’s emergency entrance after calling her mother to let Vi know she was all right. Tina also got to speak to Lars. Chloe was fine. The police were there. Bessie was on her way to the hospital by ambulance but expected to survive.

Alexis didn’t hang around long enough at the hospital to get involved in the police investigation. “You understand why I can’t stay with you,” she’d said to Tina after they’d made the call.

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