Page 3 of Cornered

He did and noted it was pretty clean. If it had been there before the wreck, it hadn’t been long. “You think this is more than a one-car accident? That someone ran her off the road?”

“I’m speculating.”

“Anything on the victim’s car that might suggest that?”

“Yeah. Paint that wasn’t there when it came from the factory. It’s an olive-green color. Victim’s car is white. But here’s the deal. It’s been bumped twice.”

“Like someone hit it and then came back for another swipe?”

“Yep.”

Tate snapped a picture of the hubcap with his phone. “Anything else?”

“Well, just one thing. There’s a bullet hole in this tree right here.”

Tate blinked. “Okay. Fresh?”

“As a newborn. Now, I’m not saying they were shooting at the victim, but I can’t rule it out either.”

“Right. So they were chasing her, bumped her—twice—then shot at her?”

“That’s about how I’d put it together, but again, I can’t say for sure. The victim didn’t have any bullet wounds. Looks like she died from head trauma.”

“Okay, thank you.” Tate rubbed his hand over his bearded chin. “You bringing that hubcap up?”

“I am.”

“Good.” He sighed. “Best-case scenario in this tragedy is it reallywasan accident and someone got scared and ran. Maybe they’d been drinking or whatever. Knew they’d be in a world of trouble if they called it in. Worst case...”

“It was on purpose. The two hits kind of indicate this was intentional. And then there’s the bullet hole in the tree.”

“Right.” Tate radioed Jeff. “Don’t let the tow truck leave yet. I want a couple pictures of the car.”

“Ten-four.”

“Could have been a hunter or something,” he said to Bobby.

“Could have been. It’s archery season right now. Guns don’t start till October. Of course, that doesn’t mean someone forgot to read the calendar and didn’t realize it.”

True. Or just plain ignored the date. Some hunters thought risking getting caught and fined was worth it.

Tate finished examining the area and shook Bobby’s hand. “Thanks. I’ll pass this on to Jeff, and he can share with whoever’s going to be taking over the case.” Tate made his way back up the incline, got the pictures of the paint on the white car and all four hubcaps still attached, then walked over to his partner to fill him in. He slapped him on the shoulder.“All right, buddy, stay in touch. I’m out of here.” He’d already gone through all the personnel stuff, getting his badge, gun, and everything else he needed for his first day on the job as a detective.

Jeff eyed him with an Eeyore expression. “I’m going to miss you. You always let me get away with not doing the hard stuff.”

Like walk down the side of a mountain. Most stuff Jeff thought was hard ... wasn’t. “Because I knew you’d always have my back while I did it. Maybe your next partner will too.”

“Take care.”

“You too.”

Tate went to his personal vehicle he’d driven up hours earlier and climbed behind the wheel. With a heaviness in his heart for the victim of the accident, he aimed his Nissan Armada toward the precinct and refused to feel nervous. He’d been working toward this moment his whole life. Since he was fifteen he’d been focused, one goal in mind. To be a detective and to put the bad guys away. To stop as many crimes as he possibly could before they were committed.

He drew in a deep breath. He’d done it. He was a detective. Now it was time to make his mark.

If he could just stay awake.

TWO

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