A Killer’s Shadow by Thomas Fincham

Author:Thomas Fincham [Fincham, Thomas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

FIFTY-THREE

They got out of the car. This time, Jo didn’t hesitate to unfurl the umbrella over her head. They walked slowly toward the broken branches and flattened ferns.

“Forensics drove in while it was still dark out,” she said. “They wouldn’t have seen it. When we came in, the rain was occluding our view. And it’s situated right here at a curve in the road. Anyone coming through here would keep their eyes on where they were going. It’s easy to miss.”

“Glad we spotted it, though.” Ford glanced with jealousy at her umbrella. He pulled up the collar of his trench coat and used a hand to shield his eyes. “How do you want to play this?”

Jo was ready. She pulled gloves out of her pocket. As she snapped them onto her hands, she switched the umbrella from arm to arm, cradling it with her elbow.

“I’ll go down and take a quick look,” she said. “I left the keys in the car. Take it back up to Barry and let him know there’s another part of the crime scene down here.”

“So I got out for nothing.” Ford gave her a mock scowl of anger and ran back to the car. He backed up until he reached a wide enough spot in the road. Then he made a U-turn and drove away.

Jo approached the side of the road. The umbrella came in handy now, blocking the rain that was still filtering through the trees. She stood with her toes jutting into the ferns and stared into the forest.

There was a sharp downward slope here, about fifty degrees. The slope was covered in plant life. Everything here was wet. If a car went off the road here, it didn’t matter how good its brakes were, because it wouldn’t be able to find traction. The car would just keep on going until it hit the bottom.

The undergrowth was dense. The area had been logged in the recent past, and most of the trees were young. They were low to the ground, and their canopies obscured her view of what waited below.

Even so, it was obvious a car had come through. The tires had cut a clear path, like two razors sweeping over the land.

It was time to hike down. The umbrella would be an encumbrance. She furled it back up and dropped it by the road. Then she started toward the bottom of the hill. It was slippery, and she had to grab hold of branches to keep herself from falling.

When she was halfway down, she spotted a fresh scar on the trunk of a maple sapling. A huge gouge mark, probably made by the bumper of the car. It must have hit and bounced off as it careened downward.

She took another step. And then she saw the car.

It was an ordinary red sedan. The front left corner was crumpled, the headlight shattered. The car was facing backward, up the hill. It had landed in a shallow trench after traveling roughly a hundred yards.

The driver’s door was open.

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