Gabe (In the Company of Snipers, #8)(14)
Watching his father’s detailed testimony of automobile forensics in the courtroom, a testimony that resulted in the conviction of a powerful gangster, had turned Gabe’s head around. He still loved a good race, which explained his revoked driver’s license at the moment, but he also understood the dynamics behind laying a patch of rubber.
Funny how that particular insight precipitated Gabe’s joining the Corps. Like father, like son? He only hoped. Officer Nathaniel Cartwright was an honorable servant of the law and a father to be proud of. Gabe sure was.
This was no rollover. Whoever had committed this crime had left a map any good law enforcement officer should’ve been able to read. That this particular sheriff wanted to chalk it up to a bullshit reason like a grieving widow losing control of her vehicle shot a righteous dose of anger up Gabe’s spine.
“Now that you mention it, no, it doesn’t look like a car rolled. You really know your stuff, but the sheriff said—”
And enough was enough. Gabe bristled. “The sheriff should keep his big mouth shut until his deputies finish running the crime scene. This was no accident, damn it.”
His heart pitched. The tow truck driver had just winched the butt end of Kelsey’s car high enough that the driver’s side door flopped open.
“So what do you think happened then?” Sullivan asked. “How many cars were involved? I mean, in your opinion?”
He raked an impatient hand over his head, wanting to be anywhere else but explaining collision dynamics to this particular woman. “I think someone swerved in front of Kelsey. She stopped. See those two lines there?” He pointed at what was to him an obvious roadmap to what had occurred earlier. “She braked hard. Those narrow tire marks came from a car the size of hers. The vehicle behind her had also come to a hard stop, leaving a wider stretch of rubber on the road. He left wider marks, and look at the wheel to axle ratio.”
Shit. He might have rammed her with a big truck. Gabe took a deep breath, forcing his empathy for what Kelsey might have gone through back to a manageable level, but damn. Her little car wouldn’t have stood a chance if her attackers were in some big four-by-four.
“What else do you think happened?” Sullivan pointed to the deeply gouged ruts leading all the way to the river. “It looks like someone might have gotten stuck in the mud. See there?”
Gabe focused on forensics. Not Kelsey’s very likely anxiety. “I think she was double-teamed. One guy swerved in front of her. The other hit her from behind hard enough to break her taillights and scare the hell out of her. There might have been a fourth car involved, another jerk who rammed her from the side. Maybe not, but someone shoved a lighter car into the river. Sideways. Look at the mud trail between the road and the shoreline. See how the yaw marks end at the roads’ edge? See how the reeds and bushes are mashed all the way to the water’s edge? Either that or…”
He gulped at the terror she must have felt in those last few minutes. All alone, and fighting for her life. His heart rate kicked up and his throat went dry. A full-blown panic attack welled up from his gut. He forced it back down. Again. “Either that or someone else was waiting for her.”
“I still don’t get it. How did your office even know where she was? If you’re right, her phone had to be underwater by then. If that’s the GPS signal you were track—”
He lifted his cell phone to Shelby’s view. “Ever heard of ruggedized cell phones, ma’am? All of our equipment is built to withstand crap like this.”
I just never expected Kelsey would need a waterproof cell phone. Shit. What’s going on?
Gabe dared Shelby to argue. Instead, she seemed to be honestly trying to understand, her lower lip trapped between her teeth as if she needed a moment to reason through what he’d just explained. “Then she has to be around here somewhere,” she said. “We need to look for her.”
At last. Sullivan said something worthwhile. He sized her up. Typical California blonde with shoulder-length hair. Slender and petite, a waif-like quality hung around her, as if she needed an arm to steady her against the light breeze blowing off the river. Worry lines crinkled her forehead. She looked east to the Potomac, then west.
The whine and squeak of the winch drew his attention back to the scene. By then, they’d drawn closer to the police tape nearest the tow truck. Gabe leaned into the tape for a closer view of the car dangling out of the water, the rear winched high in the air and water running from the open doors. Show and tell was done.
Sidestepping the tape, he muttered a quick, “Sorry, ma’am, but I’ve got to talk with this guy,” to Shelby.
“Hey. You shouldn’t get any closer. It’s against the law.”
Bullshit. Just watch me.
He left Sullivan standing on the law-abiding side of the tape. Too much evidence stood to be destroyed. He needed to record as much of it as he could, as quickly as possible. So he did. Gabe snapped picture after picture while the tow truck operator worked around him, preparing to winch the car onto the flatbed.
“Hey.” The guy cast a furtive glance at the sheriff still at his vehicle and talking with Zack, then nodded toward the front seat of Kelsey’s sedan. “I’ve got something you need to see if you’re interested in what really happened.”
“You bet. Whatcha got?”
The tow truck operator left his station at the winch and positioned himself between the driver’s seat of Kelsey’s sedan and the sheriff, nodding his chin for Gabe to take a look. “Just that.”