CHAPTER8
Cassie droppeddown from the truck and ran toward the screaming woman. She collapsed against her, sobbing wildly.
“Take a deep breath,” Cassie said.
The woman sucked in a shaky breath then burst into tears again, pointing toward the shop.
“I’ll check it out,” Drake said.
“Do you have a gun?” Cassie asked softly, mouthing the words more than saying them out loud.
He nodded, reached into his truck, pulled a Glock out of the glove box and hurried toward the open bay door. He approached from the side, easing into the shadows.
Cassie’s heart lodged in her throat when he disappeared into the building. She didn’t breathe until he reappeared less than a minute later, his face grim, his lips pressed together in a tight line.
He walked toward her and the sobbing woman, then passed them, continuing to the truck. He pulled his cell phone out of the console and placed a call. “This is Drake Morgan. I’m at Earl Hensley’s auto repair shop. Earl Hensley is dead, crushed beneath an auto lift.”
Cassie gasped, and the woman in her arms sobbed louder.
Drake ended the call and joined Cassie.
“Let me,” he said.
Cassie untangled the woman’s arms from around her neck and turned her toward Drake. He handed her his gun and pulled the woman into his arms.
Cassie went into the auto repair shop, dreading what she’d find yet having to see for herself.
Just as Drake had reported to Marnie, the 911 dispatcher, Earl Hensley was dead, crushed beneath an auto lift with a full-sized SUV balanced on the rails. His eyes were wide open, as was his mouth as if he’d screamed in pain.
Cassie’s stomach roiled. She turned and hurried out of the shop.
The wail of sirens sounded from the fire station as a fire truck and ambulance made their way toward them.
Within the next five minutes, the road filled with a fire truck, ambulance, the sheriff’s vehicle and an array of personal vehicles driven by various volunteer firefighters and paramedics.
Sheriff Barron insisted on leaving the body until the state crime lab could get someone out there to process the scene. Though having a lift fall on Earl could have been an accident, he insisted on processing it as a homicide.
“Rather have a little overkill than miss evidence that could convict a killer,” the sheriff said.
The sobbing woman was someone visiting relatives in Eagle Rock. Hers was the SUV on the rack. It was supposed to have been ready for pickup at five o’clock. When she’d arrived, she found Earl just as Drake and Cassie had. Crushed. Dead.
Representatives from the state crime lab arrived an hour and a half later.
The sheriff told Cassie that she and Drake could leave. She had to work the next day, and they didn’t have anyone to fill in if she couldn’t.
Tired and disheartened, she left with Drake, riding in silence until he pulled into the parking lot at the Blue Moose Tavern.
“I don’t think I could eat a thing,” she said. “But I’ll sit with you while you grab a bite.” The image of Earl squished beneath the lift could not be unseen.
Drake shifted into park and turned toward her, taking her hand in his. “I thought we’d get something light to eat and something strong to drink.”
“I could go for that,” she said.
He released her hand and climbed out of the truck. She didn’t wait for him to come around to open her door. It was silly to sit there when they could both get inside sooner. She joined him at the front of the truck and slipped her hand inside his. By now, she didn’t give a damn who saw her. She wanted the comfort holding his hand brought. It wasn’t like it made them a thing.
Abby saw them as they entered and hurried over to the hostess. “I’ll seat them in my area.”
The hostess nodded and handed her the menus.