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Chapter TenNoah patted his complaining belly as he stood in the bright sunlight. The apple and orange he’d scrounged for a quick breakfast weren’t going to be enough. The sun was already set high in the sky, beating down on his head, promising to make it a hot one.
He stretched, feeling like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep, his body screaming with exhaustion. Rowe was the only one who looked wide awake as he crawled over every inch of the scene of Chris’s accident.
Noah couldn’t help but worry that this accident brought up memories of Mel. Hers had been the same—a fatal hit-and-run but in the winter. Rowe had been the actual target, and that knowledge probably sat heavy on his boyfriend at all times. While hers had been on the highway, this one was in a neighborhood, so they could get out and look around.
It was a quiet street not too far from Chris’s home, someplace his wife probably had to pass whenever she drove anywhere. Noah’s heart ached for her because it was obvious this had been where Chris died, due to the mangled stop sign that hadn’t yet been replaced.
All the houses sat far off the street like hers, their yards full of well-manicured landscaping. Colorful May flowers dotted the area, and one of the houses had a family of happy gnomes that looked like they were frolicking in the garden.
“Any clues there, Scooby-Doo?” JB asked Rowe as he kneeled on the street and looked at a skid mark. Rowe threw JB a dark, warning look over his shoulder before turning his attention back to the road. “What exactly are you expecting to find?”
“I didn’t really expect to find anything.” Rowe stood, plopped his hands on his hips, and turned a full circle before facing west. “From the angle of the stop sign, it looks like Chris was hit on the driver’s side and pushed off the road. The person driving had to have run their sign and been going fast.”
“Sounds deliberate to me,” Noah said, still remembering that someone had deliberately run into Rowe’s wife. Her hit-and-run had nearly taken one of their close friends with her. Noah still hated to think about what that must have been like for both Rowe and Ian.
Rowe seemed to be handling this okay, though. He was busy playing detective and was sexy as fuck doing so. He wore jeans and a black polo shirt, his red hair bright in the sunlight. It was kind of surprising that Rowe hadn’t considered becoming a cop or a detective. But then again, the man hated doing things the legal way.
“Somebody here had to have seen the driver.” Rowe eyed the closest house and stalked toward it. Guess he was taking the detective thing further.
He knocked on the door, and a scowling elderly woman answered. She had on a pair of blue jean overalls that had dirt on the knees. From her yard, it was easy for Noah to guess how that happened. She had a showcase of flowers, shrubs, and trees on her property.
“Hello ma’am,” Rowe said, smiling and turning on the charm. “We’re sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you happened to see the accident that occurred right outside your house one week ago?”
Her scowl deepened. “You cops? Because I already talked to the cops.”
Rowe’s voice took on a sad cast. “No, we’re actually friends of the man who was killed, and we’re trying to find out what happened.”
She stared at all three of them for long moments before her expression softened in sympathy. “I saw it. Was tending my rhododendrons and azaleas.” She pointed to the bright pink and red flowers that took up the majority of her yard. “Takes a lot of love to grow those.”
“I bet it does,” Rowe said, giving the flowers a look she had to appreciate. “And they are beautiful. My grandma used to grow azaleas.” He cleared his throat. “What did you see exactly?”
“I saw the man pull out at the stop sign—he had the right of way—and the other car came out of nowhere, sped up, and rammed him. Actually sped up! I heard his engine kind of growl. Just like I told the police. Was no damn accident.”
“What kind of car hit him?” Noah asked.
She looked at him. “One of those big yellow things. A hummer. The guy in the little car didn’t stand a chance. He was run right into the sign, and the hummer drove off. I called 9-1-1 myself, but it was too late for that fella.” She shook her head, gray curls bobbing. She opened the door farther and a wave of cool air came out. With it, came the scent of fresh-baked bread. Noah’s stomach rumbled.
“Did you see the driver of the hummer?” Rowe asked.
“Just a pair of shiny sunglasses,” she answered. “You know the ones that look kind of orange? I remember because the sun was shining off them and he looked ridiculous in them.”
