What She Saw by Rachel Lee Page B

that we see around here making local deliveries sometimes.”
    “Thanks. That’s very helpful.”
    She pursed her lips. “I don’t see how. Could I have been any vaguer?”
    “You limited the models of truck I need to be looking out for. You limited the colors and condition and even age. You even said it looked as if it drove dirt roads. The field just got narrowed.”
    “Not by much,” she said, but smiled. “I don’t think I remember anything else, though.”
    “After breakfast want to take a ride with me?”
    Her heart leaped, then reason reasserted, much to her own dismay. “Sorry, but my car is old and I try not to put too many miles on it. I can’t afford major repairs right now.”
    “That’s okay. I managed to rent one. It looks like it might be able to do a few hundred miles.”
    She almost laughed at the description, but then said, “Rented one? Where? Our only car-rental place shut down after the semiconductor plant had the big layoff.”
    “There’s a used-car dealer on the edge of town who was glad of some money.”
    He was definitely resourceful, she thought. That never would have occurred to her. “Where would we go?”
    “I want to take a look at where Ray went off the road. And then I’d like to do some dirt-driving around the county.”
    She perked up with excitement. “Really? We’re going to investigate?”
    “Call it recon. I want to know the lay of the land.”
    * * *
    An hour later, after she had showered and dressed in jeans and a blue T-shirt with a gold-embossed butterfly on it, they set out in his rental. It was more than a few years old but spotless inside and out—to be expected of a dealership. She glanced at the odometer and saw what he meant: this car had rolled over a hundred thousand miles some time ago.
    Buck looked amused when she checked. “Trust me, the guy sells them with a ninety-day warranty. It’s got to be good enough to make a few hundred more miles.”
    She giggled and settled in, fastening her seat belt.
    “It also,” he remarked, “won’t stick out around here like my truck cab would.”
    “I take it you don’t want to be noticed?”
    “I’ve already been noticed entirely too much.” He told her about being picked up by Gage the night before. “Imagine, a ticket for speeding on foot.”
    That made her laugh again. “People notice things around here. It’s actually kind of comforting.”
    “Then I guess you’ve never gotten out of line in your life.”
    “I really haven’t had the opportunity,” she replied truthfully.
    “Until me,” he remarked in a low voice.
    That stopped the conversation until they were ten miles out of town and he spied where Ray’s rig had gone off the road. It would have been hard to miss. The roadside grasses hadn’t been mowed in a while, and in the ditch running alongside the road they were deeper, though not taller, because the mower swiped it all down to the same level. It was easy to see where they had been flattened.
    The road itself was elevated above the surrounding land, most likely, Haley had always believed, to help snow blow off the road surface and make sure water drained away, as well. But that elevation made the ditches to either side pretty deep, and the bank down to them steep.
    Buck pulled onto the shoulder and flipped the flashers on before climbing out. She hesitated, then followed him. The road seemed completely deserted right now but that wouldn’t last. It usually carried a fair amount of traffic toward Laramie and the interstate.
    The imprint of the truck was still visible, although tramping feet and the subsequent recovery of the rig had churned the area quite a bit. Buck pointed to a dark-brown blotch in the grass.
    “Diesel,” he said. “Burned the grass out. He must have been going at nearly full speed when he went off.”
    “How can you know that?”
    “Those diesel tanks are built to be tough. It would take some force to puncture or rupture one, especially against the