Death Comes Knocking (The Thea Kozak Mystery Series, Book 10) by Kate Flora

Author:Kate Flora [Flora, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2020-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

We rode in silence for a while until I said, “Did you want to tell me the rest of the story about your accident? It’s fine if you don’t.”

“I…uh…well, I guess I do. I mean, I started to, so I should finish.”

“There’s no ‘should’ here, Lindsay. It’s what you want to share. What you’re comfortable with. How we handle our traumas is up to us.”

“Yes, Dr. Kozak,” she said.

“I’m not trying to analyze you. It’s that I’ve been in a traumatic accident. I know how hard it can be to get back in a car.”

She didn’t need to know that in my accident I’d been forced off the road by someone trying to kill me. Nor that a lot of my trauma was because people wouldn’t believe me. I was met with a wall of disbelief and people judging me for being careless. Nor that there had actually been two such times. Two accidents, two traumas, due to my unfortunate habit of trying to get answers that lead me to bad people.

She stared straight ahead, not looking at me. “Devon was driving too fast. I kept begging him to slow down, which only made him drive faster. He put his hand on my leg and was squeezing it. He had a huge grin on his face, saying how he couldn’t wait ’til we got home. We were driving through a residential area, and there was a kid, a teenager, out walking his dog. He was in the crosswalk, and Devon was looking at me instead of the road.”

She stopped to catch her breath. “I yelled, ‘Devon, watch out! Stop!’ but it was too late. He swerved, but he still hit the kid. He wasn’t going to stop. Thea. It was so awful. He was just going to drive away and leave that kid and the dog lying there in the street. I grabbed the key, turned off the car, and jumped out. I ran back to help the kid, and he was really messed up. He kept asking if his dog was okay, and I didn’t want to tell him it was dead.”

She mopped at her face with a tissue. “I called 911, and I sat down beside the kid. I was talking to him and holding his hand. I still had the keys in my other hand, and Devon came up and snatched them and got in his car and drove away.”

“Did the kid survive?”

“He did.”

“And Devon? What happened with him?”

“He lied to the police. Said I was driving. It was awful. They were able to establish that he was lying, but…” She sighed. “You know what it’s like the first time you realize how utterly dishonest a person can be? It’s like a trap door opens under your feet, and you never quite trust solid ground again.”

“I do.” Which was so true. There had been the accidents—like my own, and my husband David’s friend driving drunk and killing the man I loved. There had been people I’d trusted who’d turned out to be far from who I thought they were.

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