Survival Clause, стр. 45
And someone must have called the police. Since they were so close, several of them were on their way up the hill almost before the hybrid had come to a standstill. One of them must have recognized me and notified Rafe, because when I turned, there he was.
“You all right, darlin’?” His eyes were intent on my face.
“Fine,” I said. My teeth were still chattering, so I made an effort to breathe deeply. “We’re both fine.”
Carrie had gone from shrill shrieks to sobs during the minute I’d been holding her, and now the sobbing turned to delight at the sight of her father.
“Hey, pretty girl.” He stroked her cheek. Tears were still stuck in her eyelashes, but that was long forgotten in her excitement to see her daddy. He chuckled. “C’mere, sugar. Daddy’ll hold you.”
He plucked her out of my arms and cradled her in the crook of one arm while he tickled her tummy with the other. She giggled.
“There goes every ovary on the town square,” I muttered, working the kinks out of my neck.
He gave me a jaundiced look, and then a more concerned one. “Neck all right?”
“Fine. We were barely moving when he hit us. I’m just stiff.”
He nodded. “The car looks all right. Gonna need a little body work, but it don’t look too bad.”
No. Some of the metal had crumpled, but it wasn’t anything to worry about. The car on the other side of the hybrid, the one that had stopped our passage, had gotten off with a few minor scratches. And the truck, of course, was unharmed. On the other side of the car, Charlotte and the other two drivers were exchanging insurance information under the watchful eye of a couple of uniformed officers. It was amazing how quickly the guy from the truck had calmed down once the police showed up on the scene.
“Go on home,” Rafe told me when that was taken care of. Most of the bystanders had disbursed by then, and so had most of the cops. The driver of the truck climbed back into the cab, and as we stood there, the engine came on with a roar. We watched as he crept around the rear of the hybrid and from there, around the courthouse. “Go home and relax. Take care of yourself and Carrie.”
I nodded. “That’s the plan. Although I forgot to tell you… I think Jessica Rabbit’s car is sitting on the other side of the square.” Or was, before all this happened. “We were just about to park and get out and take a look when this happened.”
“Over there?” He glanced past the courthouse.
I nodded. “Small, tan compact with a Smoky Mountains license plate.”
“D’you happen to write down the license plate?”
I hadn’t, of course.
“Here.” He handed me the baby. She protested at being dumped by her daddy, but by then he was already gone, jogging across the square toward the other side of the courthouse.
I spent the time while he was gone getting Carrie back into the hybrid and strapped in. Charlotte arranged herself behind the wheel, not without a grimace. “I’m not looking forward to explaining this to my mother.”
No, I wouldn’t be either, if it had been Mother’s Cadillac getting creamed. “It wasn’t your fault. The guy in the truck acknowledged that he’d been following too closely, didn’t he? I mean, he was.”
Charlotte nodded. “Get in. What are you waiting for?”
“Rafe,” I said. “He went across the square to look at the car.” There was no need to specify which car. “Here he comes now.”
And he wasn’t looking particularly happy. I knew, before he stopped beside me, what he was going to say. “It ain’t there anymore.”
No, of course it wasn’t. “Maybe my subconscious noticed the license plate. Maybe hypnosis would work.” A hot bath, lots of bubbles, candles and soft music…
“Sounds like a plan.” He dropped a kiss on my mouth before helping me into the car. “Drive carefully.”
Charlotte assured him that she planned to, and we rolled off down the hill under the Martin & Vaughan mural toward home.
We were halfway there when Charlotte’s phone signaled an incoming message. She glanced at it. “There’s a new video up.”
Of course there was. “I’ll look.”
I pulled the phone toward me and pushed the appropriate buttons. In the backseat, Carrie cooed, the trauma of being in a (very minor) car accident already forgotten.
The video started playing, and I sighed.
“What?” Charlotte asked.
“She was there. Couldn’t have been more than ten or fifteen feet away from us.” I showed her the screen, where Rafe had just plucked Carrie out of my arms and was cradling her. “I was too shook up to realize it, I guess. It didn’t even cross my mind to scan the crowd for anyone filming.”
“Mine, either,” Charlotte said. “What are you going to do?”
“Go home, send it to Rafe, and let him and Vasim Rehman worry about it.” I shut the phone off with an irritated click and handed it back to her. “I’ve got a job of my own to do. I’m going to upload the new listing with the new photographs and schedule an open house for tomorrow. And let the police deal with the stalkers and serial killers.”
“Works for me,” Charlotte said, and turned the hybrid in the direction of Sweetwater.
Thirteen
She dropped me at home, and I spent the next hour or two doing what I’d said I’d do: track down the new photographs, create a new home listing, and scheduling the open house. While I did all that, Pearl snored on her pillow and Carrie moved around on the floor. She’d gotten the rolling over thing down well enough that she could now move from one side of the room to the other like a sausage. Eventually