Page 36 of Speak No Evil

“Their first question is going to be what happened. I need to come up with an explanation that won’t worry them.” She pressed her fingers to his arm. “Hey, you don’t happen to have a hat I can pull down to my eyes, do you?”

“Sorry, I don’t pack around my hiking hat.” Will put on the overhead light and turned her face. “Be aware that you’re getting a bit of a bruise now just below the cut. Your story had better be a good one.”

Her seatbelt rewound with a click. “I’ll tell them I ran into a door.”

“Or some jerk slammed a door in your face,” he offered.

“That’s a good one.” She pointed a finger at him. “Puts the blame on someone else.”

He leaned close, inhaling her sweet scent. Was it lilac? Something like that. He kissed her quick. “Whatever you say, remember you are not to blame.”

Turned out, they arrived a few minutes before Gwen’s family. Smells of French fries and grilling beef tormented him while they waited. Will studied all those entering, not recognizing any of them. “We’ve probably lost Winston.”

“I’m not missing him.” Gwen stared out at the lot. “I see them parking now.”

After hugs, her aunt snagged the hostess and asked for a big, round table. There was one being cleared, and they took that one. Gwen told them part of the truth, explaining she’d tripped going down a hotel escalator. That was enough to distract Leslie. “You’re going to look terrible at the wedding.”

Gwen shrugged. “I didn’t do it on purpose, but you can always find another bridesmaid.”

“This late?” her cousin wailed. “Gran would kill me.”

“The nurse thought any bruises would heal in two to three weeks, and there’s always makeup.”

Aunt Kathy nodded. “So true.”

Several hours later Will folded his napkin and pushed the edge under his plate. Uncle Tim nudged him and leaned close to whisper, “Follow me outside.”

Gwen sent him a nervous glance. He squeezed her hand under the table. “Be back in a minute.”

He followed Gwen’s uncle outside and off the sidewalk to the entrance. Uncle Tim pulled his cellphone. “I saw a car you might be interested in.” The older man showed him a photo. “He stopped in front of our house.”

“Did anyone get out?”

“There’s a stop sign on that corner.” Uncle Tim swiped through several more.

Will stared at the photo. “There’s a person sitting in the back seat.”

Uncle Tim stared at it. “Swipe the screen. I’ve got more. I caught the person in back looking out the window.”

Will’s pulse quickened. He didn’t recognize the rider, heavyset with thick dark hair and a moustache. He looked a lot like an actor who’d played the bad guy in many gangster movies, but the important thing was that Clay could enlarge the photo and pick out facial details. “Can you shoot all of those to me? These could be helpful.”

Uncle Tim sent him the photos and propped his reading glasses on the top of his head. “Do you know who he is?”

“No clue, but he’s definitely someone to avoid. Don’t confront either him or the driver.” Will’s cell pinged and he saved the photos. “Is this the only time he drove past?”

“Yup, that was it. As far as I know, anyway.”

“Thanks.” Will went ahead and forwarded the shots to Clay. “I’m hoping a friend can identify him.”

“On the police force?”

“No, FBI,” Will explained.

Uncle Tim’s face sobered. “This is getting serious.”

11

By the time she and Leslie had finished their shared brownie ala mode, Will and her uncle had returned and ordered themselves dessert. Now, twenty minutes later, Gwen hugged her family and nodded to Leslie’s beau, before climbing into Will’s Jeep. She glanced at him. “That’s your phone I hear.”

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