Page 13 of The Vineyard Bride

“Just the one musical so far, Freddie.I think my thespian days are through.”

“Sad to hear.”Freddie’s voice bounced around.He was clearly happy to hear from her.“Connie said something about the hit-and-run case from last night?”

“Yes.My niece was involved, and her boyfriend managed to pass along the license plate information.Have you been able to track that plate?”

Freddie heaved a sigh into the speaker.Lola furrowed her brow.This didn’t sound good.

“We did, yes,” Freddie continued.“First thing this morning.Unfortunately, that particular Chevy Cavalier was reported as stolen from a Boston area family a little more than a week ago.”

“Stolen.”Lola’s heartbeat pumped in her ears.“No wonder they drove away quickly.”

“We thought the same.It’s not the sort of thing a typical islander would do, that’s for sure.Now we have the task of watching hours and hours of CCTV footage from the ferries between Woods Hole and Oak Bluffs, trying to find the vehicle involved.”

“Good idea,” Lola said.

“But the angle of the camera is a bit strange.And the vehicle count is, of course, in the thousands.It’ll be easy to miss,” Freddie told her.“On the one hand, we’re on an island, which means that it should be easier to track down whoever did this.On the other hand, if someone wants to stay hidden, we can’t very easily drag them out of nowhere.”

“I hear you, Fred.”Lola dropped her gaze to her newly painted fingernails, which flashed deep red in the sunlight.“Keep me updated if anything changes.”

“Sure will.”

Lola returned her cell to her purse and blinked back up to Amanda, whose face was scrunched up like a pug’s.

“Doesn’t sound good,” Amanda tried.

“Whoever caused this accident isn’t exactly winning any awards in community service,” Lola returned with a shrug.

“You’re kidding.”

Lola’s stomach twisted into a knot.“All we can focus on right now is this: you and Sam are healthy.Beatrice is on the mend.New cars can be purchased.”

“I know that you’re right,” Amanda groaned.“I just hate that someone might get away with this.”

“The story’s not over yet,” Lola told her.“If you’d seen what I’d seen over the past twenty-some years of working in journalism, you’d know that at any time, the story could explode into something totally different.Just wait.”

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