Something Wicked by Lisa Jackson

Author:Lisa Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2013-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

Hale was driving ten miles an hour, and the snow just kept building and building on the road. Ten miles an hour. Too damned slow. His forty-minute estimate was for shit. He was already an hour in, and he had a ways to go.

I’m coming, Savannah. His mind raced to images of her in her car, her Ford, laboring alone in the dark . . . in the freezing night. I’m coming.

He was counting the seconds, feeling precious time passing. He stepped on the accelerator, and his rig immediately slid a bit, so he eased off. He would be of no help if he didn’t make it to her side. God. Was it going to take forever?

His thoughts kept touching back on Kristina, too, but as soon as they did, they quickly jumped back to the situation at hand. He needed to get to Savvy. Soon. At least he could help her. There was nothing more he could do for his wife but pray.

Rounding a corner, he nearly ran into the back of a tow truck, which was winching up the rear end of a badly smashed Toyota wagon. Silhouetted in the truck’s headlights, a man was standing in five inches of snow, staring around himself blankly. Blood was dripping from the end of his hand to the frozen ground.

Hale rolled down his window and eased to a stop. “You need help?” he asked, when all he wanted to do was keep going.

“Nah.” The man lifted the arm. “I scraped it, s’all.”

“Looks like more than a scrape.”

“Isaac’ll take me where I need to go,” he answered, nodding toward the tow truck driver. Hale could just make out ISAAC’S TOWING stenciled on the side of the snow-crusted truck. “You’re going the wrong way, man,” the injured man added, pointing with his good arm in the direction Hale was heading. “There’s nothing there for miles but a ton of snow. I’m the last one through.”

“Gotta find somebody.”

“Let the sheriff’s department do it,” he advised, but Hale just sketched a good-bye with his hand. He couldn’t count on the sheriff’s department, because he didn’t have much faith that Savvy’s plight was, despite her connections, next up on the 9-1-1 rotation.

He squinted through the falling snow. If the injured man was the last one through, then his vehicle had crossed all lanes to land in the ditch on the far side of the road.

Clamping down hard on his fears, determined to find her, to help his newborn son, he touched a toe to the accelerator.

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