Page 82 of Cold Case, Warm Hearts

Aspen ground her teeth so loudly that Garrett winced at the sound. She took a breath and started again. “And then mysmall SUVhit the snowbank and went over. I remember seeing a tree and swerved to avoid it. The car must’ve gone up an incline because it flipped onto its side.”

“How fast were you going?”

“Not very, but I didn’t check the speedometer. I was too focused on the guy trying to kill me.”

“People get into accidents all the time, ma’am. I’m sure he was just trying to get past you. Are you sure you didn’t just run off the road accidentally? Maybe you imagined?—”

“I didn’t imagine it.”

The detective smiled as if he found her amusing.

That did it for Garrett. He stood. “Is thisfunny?”

The man’s smile faded. “You can sit down, sir, or you can leave.”

“So you can ridicule her in peace? I don’t think so.”

The man pointed with his chin to the chair Garrett had vacated. “Your choice.”

But through the glass door, he caught sight of the police chief stepping into the building. Garrett reached for Aspen. “Come on.”

She took his hand. Hers was still freezing, no doubt a result of scrambling through the woods with no gloves on—and the chilly treatment she’d gotten from this incompetent jerk.

Pollard said, “If you want to give your statement, sit down.”

Before Garrett could tell the guy where he could shove his notebook, Aspen said, “We’ll just go talk to your boss. We’ll be sure to tell him how helpful you’ve been.”

Garrett couldn’t help the smug look he gave the other man as he followed her to the door.

He hoped it was justified and the chief would take her seriously.

She’d already spotted Cote and beelined past the officers and desks to where he stood on the far side of the room. “Can we talk to you please?”

“Sure. Sorry I didn’t get back to you. I was driving into town when I heard what happened.” Cote led them into a glass-fronted office. His, according to the nameplate on the desk. The chief directed them to two chairs and closed the door.

“FYI,” Garrett said, “Pollard’s a piece of crap.”

Cote sat on the far side of the desk without comment about his detective. He spoke to Aspen. “How you holding up?”

“I’ll be all right.”

“You gave your statement already?”

“For as much good as it’ll do. Your detective seems to have gotten me confused with my mother. He thinks I’m either lying or insane.”

Cote squinted the tiniest bit as he glanced beyond them and through the window into the larger room. He masked the expression quickly. “I’ll take care of it. Tell me what happened.”

Once more, Aspen related the events from the time she spotted the headlights in her rearview mirror to when Garrett picked her up. Cote took no notes, just listened, nodding along.

When she was finished, he turned to Garrett. “Did you see anybody?”

“Just Aspen.”

“Any cars?”

“No, but I was only there for a minute.”

“You were home when she called?”

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