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Oh, God . . . oh, God . . . oh, God . . .
She barreled into the Italian restaurant, nearly knocking over a woman walking toward the restrooms. The woman glared at her and stomped onward.
“Get away from the windows!” Elizabeth screamed at the couple seated in the waiting area directly in front of the windows that looked straight toward the street entrance into the strip mall.
As they gaped at her in surprise, she grabbed up the young boy about three years old who was standing in front of them and ran for the interior of the restaurant. Shrieking, the woman leaped to her feet and charged after her. Her husband damn near ran over his wife in his own attempt to reach Elizabeth.
“Stop!” he yelled
At the same moment, a car smashed through the window with a roar of engines and shattering glass. A collective gasp and shriek ran through the crowd. People clattered from their chairs, running to safety as a green Buick flew forward, humping over tables and chairs before smacking into a pillar. The building shook. The alarm blared. Woowoowoowoo. Steam hissed from the radiator.
The boy in Elizabeth’s arms wriggled free and found his mother who was crying and gulping and shaking as if stricken with palsy. The father gazed at Elizabeth dully.
Elizabeth surfaced from the terrible scene in her mind, slowly focusing on reality—the elderly man slumped over the steering wheel of his car, the noise, the panic. She placed her hands over her ears and stepped toward the car.
“You knew,” the husband said. “You knew. . . .”
“I-I saw it coming,” she choked out. The truth.
People were gathering around the vehicle. Blood ran from a gash in the driver’s head. Elizabeth saw a man press 9-1-1 on his cell and hold it to his ear.
It took several minutes, but blessedly, someone finally cut the alarm. The sudden silence was immediately replaced by the sound of an approaching siren.
“Oh, my God . . . oh, my God . . . oh, my God . . .” the mother was saying over and over again, cradling her son and rocking him in her arms.
Get out.
Elizabeth stepped toward the door next to the shattered window. A crowd had gathered outside under a sky fraught with dark clouds and softly falling rain. A police car jerked to a stop and an officer stepped out. A woman. Officer Maya.
She saw Elizabeth the same moment Elizabeth saw her. “You were here when this happened?” Maya asked, surprised.
Elizabeth looked for her partner, DeFazio, but the officer was alone.
“He just accelerated,” a man nearby said, catching Maya’s attention. “Goddamn. I think he hit the gas instead of the brake.”
“Yeah, yeah,” a young woman with short red hair agreed. “That’s what he did.”
A chorus of voices followed, echoing the sentiment. Elizabeth moved away.
Get out. Get away. Get to your daughter.
She slipped away and walked rapidly across the parking lot back to the burger spot. She would have broken into a run except that it would have called too much attention to her. She was still thirty feet away from Lots Of Beef when Chloe burst outside and ran to her, heedless of anything but her mother’s arms.
Elizabeth scooped her up and Chloe pressed her face into her mother’s neck.
“What happened? What happened?” Tara babbled. She’d come outside with Chloe and was standing with a growing number of other patrons who’d heard the crash and slowly worked their way outside. Bibi was clutched to her side.
“An accident. I heard it happening,” Elizabeth said.
“How?” Tara asked, wide-eyed.
“They think this elderly man hit the accelerator instead of the brakes,” she said, ignoring the question.
At that moment, an ambulance pulled up outside Uncle Vito’s and two EMTs jumped out.
“My God,” Tara said.
“I wanna go home,” Chloe said on a gulp. Tears threatened.
