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me, are you? Better get in.”
    The offer was for the passenger’s side, rather than the backseat, which was the good news. The bad news was that shaking was the least of it. Climbing in was a challenge. Tom’s body was starting to hurt.
    Bonner eyed him from behind the wheel. “You okay?”
    â€œI’m okay.” The paramedic had given him gauze for his cheek. Pressing it there, Tom waved Bonner on after the ambulance. It was already out of sight, gone too fast with Bree.
    The Blazer took up a slow, safe, frustrating pace through the snow. “So. What happened?”
    The shaking increased, radiating outward from his belly.
    â€œGates?”
    Tom forced himself to think back, but things were fuzzy. “I was coming up the hill toward the green.”
    â€œSlippin’ around, were you?”
    He didn’t remember slipping around. “Not particularly. The Jeep holds the road.”
    â€œWhy were you out?”
    There hadn’t been any special reason. He had been restless, even lonely. He had been thinking how different his life was, at that moment, from what had gone before. There had surely been regret, surely self-pity. “I just felt like being out.”
    â€œWere you drinking?”
    Tom slid the man a long look. “You leaned in close when you reached the scene. Did you smell booze on my breath?”
    Bonner smirked. “Nope. Just coffee.”
    â€œYou saw me at the diner. I had one beer with my chicken. Bree asked if I wanted another. I didn’t. LeeAnn poured the coffee. I had two cups.” The wipers pushed snowflakes from side to side. Peering out between them, Tom envisioned himself in a tunnel of light formed by the Blazer’s headlights. The eeriness of it gave him a chill. “Where’s the ambulance?”
    â€œUp a ways. So. You had your coffee, then you left. What time was that?”
    â€œEight, give or take.” His left side ached. He changed position to ease it, still he felt the Blazer’s every shift. “I went home, stayed half an hour, then left.”
    â€œTo go joyriding in the snow.”
    â€œNot joyriding.” He hadn’t felt any joy, hadn’t felt any joy in too long to remember. “Just riding.”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œAround town. Out toward Lowell. Into Montgomery. Like I said, the Jeep holds the road.”
    â€œSo you wanted to see how good it was in the snow?”
    â€œIf you’re asking whether I was pushing to see how fast I could go before spinning out, I wasn’t. Come on, Bonner. You looked at tire tracks back there. Did it look like I was weaving coming up the hill?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œAs soon as the truck hit, I was gone. It was like being at the wrong end of a bulldozer, pushed sideways into the wall.”
    â€œWhen did you first see the truck?”
    Tom took a deep breath and swallowed it fast when he felt pain. Bruised ribs, he guessed, plus cuts on his hands from fleeing the Jeep, plus God only knew what up and down his left side, where the truck had hit him hard. But all that was nothing compared to what had happened to Bree.
    â€œGates?”
    Squeezing his eyes shut, he struggled to re-create those lost seconds. Finally, he sighed and looked up. “All I remember is the headlights closing in.”
    â€œWhat kind of truck was it?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œColor?”
    Again he tried to recall. “It wasn’t a big truck. More likely a pickup. Color? Black, maybe? Hell, I couldn’t see much in the glare of the lights. Take a look at my Jeep, though. It’ll have paint in the scrapes.”
    â€œI looked. The truck was maroon.”
    â€œWhat about the tires?”
    â€œConsistent with a pickup, but bald. When did you first see Bree?”
    â€œI didn’t see her. Not directly. I was aware of passing a dark shape just before the truck came around the corner, but it didn’t register as