Page 56 of Silent Deception
In Cody’s room, she dusted and picked up, then sank onto his bed and stared at the collection of books and toys and sports equipment jammed onto the built-in shelves. Loneliness snuck up on her as she absorbed the silence of the old house.
It wouldn’t be long until Cody reached middle school, then high school and, after that, the years without him at home would stretch on forever. What would it be like to be totally alone? Nothing she looked forward to, unlike some of her friends back in Dallas who counted the years until their kids grew up.
With a sigh, she picked up her dust cloth and started for the door passing the small framed photo of her father on Cody’s desk.
Her frustration welled again at the dead end she’d reached with Buddy’s Auto Shop. She’d been so sure she’d find the old truck.Right.Sitting there, waiting for her after nearly two years. What had she been thinking?
Any evidence would be long gone.
Ryan wouldn’t be in town long enough to prove anything even if hedidwant to. After she’d practically assaulted him, he’d probably be putting as much distance as possible between himself and the Cantrells.
So this whole town would go on, convinced Nate had been lowlife scum, an embezzler who’d stolen from his boss.
Yet all she’d needed was to find some sort of proof. A scrape, maybe, and some paint residue on Dad’s truck. Surely there’d have beensomethingif another person had driven him off the road. Just last month, someone had opened a door against the side of her truck in a parking lot, and even that light touch had left a long green mark from the other car’s paint.
She brushed a fingertip against her father’s photograph. “I’m sorry, Dad...I guess we’ll never know.”
Her gaze dropped to the collection of Hot Wheels cars arranged on the desk. Cody played with them for hours upon hours, staging races and crashes, sometimes sending them catapulting down the stairs. Idly, she rested a finger on one and scooted it back and forth, then bumped it against the side of another car.
She stared at them for a moment, then did it again.
The sheriff’s photos had included a shot of the route Dad’s truck had taken down the hill. It had gone down nose first, then apparently ricocheted off a large boulder and begun a sideways, bouncing rollover to the bottom of the ravine.
She’d figured that someone might have side-swiped the truck, and that there could’ve been paint residue on the doors.
But what if another driver had rammed just the front fender...or had cut sharply into the path of the truck? Could there have been any contact with the corner of Dad’sbumper?
The piles of auto parts stacked behind Buddy’s Auto... It was a long shot. Probably just another dead end, another disappointment. But if she didn’t at least try, she would never know.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kristin made it toBuddy’s Auto by three minutes after noon. This time, she ignored the Closed sign and rapped sharply on the door, then skirted the shop and went around back calling his name.
Sure enough, he soon stepped out of an open garage door leading into the building, wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “Hey,” he called out in greeting.
She picked her way through the pieces of machinery lying everywhere. “Hey.”
