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She should forget about Marc. Put all her thoughts and energies into finding concrete proof that Les’s fire hadn’t been the accident it appeared to be.
And in the short term, she ought to concentrate on psyching herself up for the looming meeting with James Wallace and shoring up her resolve to make no promises, no matter how much his story touched her heart or—
Thwump, thwump, thwump.
The steering wheel pulled to the right, and she tightened her grip as a loud flapping noise came from the back of the car.
What on earth?
Flipping on her trouble lights, she maneuvered the car onto the shoulder of the highway.
Could she have a flat tire?
Once parked, she waited for a break in the rush hour traffic, then exited the car, which was now listing to the right.
She circled around the hood to the passenger side.
Yep. The front tire was flat.
Well, crud. What a—
Wait.
She squinted toward the rear of the car.
Was the back tire flat too?
She strode down the length of the car and confirmed the bad news.
Double crud.
Planting her fists on her hips, she expelled a breath. How in the world could she get two flat tires at once? And what good was one spare when you needed two?
What an end to a Monday.
She shoved her fingers through her hair, angled away from the road dust being churned up by passing trucks, and debated her next move.
Either of her siblings would come to her rescue, but asking Cara to drive up from Cape Girardeau would be too much of an imposition. Her Monday teaching schedule at the university was packed. And according to the delayed response he’d sent to her text this morning, Jack had pulled an all-nighter after being called in late last evening to assist with a double homicide.
She’d have to call a towing service. Without wheels, she’d also have to reschedule her meeting with James Wallace.
Heaving a resigned sigh, she trudged back to the front passenger door, pulled it open, and leaned in for her cell. Somewhere in her emergency contacts was a number for a towing—
She blinked at the screen.
She’d missed a call from Marc? Less than a minute ago?
He must have phoned while she was inspecting the damage to her tires.
Why?
Shifting her priorities, she punched in a return call. The towing service could wait.
“Bri?” He answered on the first ring.
“Yes. Sorry I missed your call.”
Silence.
