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Scarlett didn’t hesitate. The car jumped forward one last time before the back end hit the tree so hard his teeth rattled.
It heaved to a stop, and this time Jim didn’t hesitate. “Open your door, Scarlett. We’re getting out.”
A tree was blocking his exit, so Jim clambered over the console almost into Scarlett’s lap. The airbag hadn’t deployed, which eased their escape from the car. Scarlett had opened the driver’s-side door, and he pushed and prodded her ahead of him and out of the car.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her across the road just as the demolished car started emitting black puffs of smoke.
He parked Scarlett safely next to a tree on the other side of the burning car, shielding her body. He held his breath, waiting for an explosion.
Instead, the fire burned itself out on the metal of the car with the help of the pounding rain, leaving a smoking hulk at the side of the road.
Jim brushed a wisp of hair from Scarlett’s wet cheek. “Are you okay? Your back? Your neck?”
She blinked. “I think so. You?”
“Rattled but not broken.”
“Oh, my God.” She covered her face with her hands. “Danny tried to do the same thing to us as he did to my family.”
“He must’ve tampered with your car at the hospital or when it was at the reservation.”
“He’s serious, Jim. He wants to get rid of us so we’ll stop meddling in his business.”
“Once we find the drugs and get Harper involved, we can put a stop to this insanity. There’s no way Chewy or any other Lord is going to do Danny’s dirty work without getting paid in drugs first. Dax knew this.”
A big rig loaded with lumber rumbled into view at the top of the hill. As the truck descended, the driver honked and slowed down. He yelled out his window. “You folks okay?”
“We’re fine, but the car’s totaled.”
“Do you need me to make a phone call?”
Jim held up his cell. “I got it, thanks.”
As the truck started moving, Jim called 911 to report the accident. Then he draped his jacket over Scarlett’s head to protect her from the rain—at least he could protect her from that. She should’ve been back in San Francisco by now.
While he wrapped her in his arms, the familiar sound of sirens cut through the late-afternoon air. A squad car and a fire engine came over the hill, the fire truck pulling up behind Scarlett’s car.
As soon as Deputy Unger got out of his car, Scarlett descended on him.
“Someone tampered with the brakes on my car. I’m almost sure of it, Cody.”
The deputy scratched his chin. “You seem to be having a run of bad luck, that’s for sure.”
Scarlett choked. “A run of bad luck? Is that what you’d call it?”
“Are you accusing anyone, Scarlett? Do you know who’s behind the attacks? Because if you do, we’d sure like to talk to him about Rusty Kelly’s murder and the attempted murder of Dax Kennedy.”
Jim shifted his weight to his other foot, just enough to touch Scarlett’s shoulder. As much as Unger didn’t respect his boss, Sheriff Musgrove was still his boss and Evelyn had just warned them against Musgrove. Jim would feel safer spilling his guts to a third party like Agent Harper.
“I—I don’t know, but this,” she said, and waved her arm at the smoldering car, “was no accident.”
The firefighters had made short work of the flames licking at the underbrush around the car, and Jim watched as they put out any remaining live sparks on the car.
Unger gestured to Scarlett’s car. “You’re lucky that thing didn’t blow.”
“Jim got us out quickly, just in case.” She put her hand through his arm.
The fire chief approached them, asked a few questions and confirmed that the car had been totaled—as if they didn’t already know that.
“Did the inside of the car burn up? My purse is still in there, my cell phone. Can I get them?”
“Give it some time. There’s still some hot metal on the car, and you don’t want to get burned.” The firefighters wrapped up and took off for an accident scene with injuries.
“What now?” Scarlett tapped the toe of her boot.
