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car?”
    “No.”
    “Hmph. Well, I’ll give it another going-over, but if you don’t hear back from me within the hour, assume I didn’t find anything.”
    “All right. Thanks.”
    Slowly Moira slid the phone back into her pocket.
    She was beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland, where nothing was as it seemed.
    “What’s the bad news?” Linda strode over and lifted her arm to swipe her forehead on the sleeve of her T-shirt.
    “Dollar-wise, or in terms of mental health?”
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    “The repair guy says there was no broken glass in the car.”
    “That’s a bad thing?”
    “More weird than bad. The guy who stopped to help me at the accident said there was glass on the seat. And I felt it. It was sharp. He had me move aside so he could brush it off.”
    “That is strange.”
    “So what else is new?” Moira blew out a breath. “First I imagine a woman. Next I imagine a man. Now I imagine glass. If I didn’t have a bruise on my temple and a mind-numbing repair bill staring me in the face, I’d start to think I imagined the whole thing.”
    “Maybe the PI will find some evidence that supports your story.”
    Moira moved forward again. “I’m not holding my breath. All he has to go on is my version of what happened and the police report, and I know what the deputy thought. I have a sinking feeling this is going to be a dead end.”
    “It’s not like you didn’t try.”
    “I know. But something bad happened Friday night, Linda. That woman was terrified. If I don’t try to figure it out, no one will.”
    “What else can you do, if there aren’t any clues to go on?”
    Not much.
    But letting this thing die didn’t sit well.
    As they moved on to more innocuous topics, Moira tried to focus on the soft evening sunlight, the sweet smell of lilacs, and the soft pink petals of the dogwoods ruffling in the gentle breeze. But the placid setting did nothing to calm her churning stomach. She was used to digging deep for stories. To searching for truth even if that meant disturbing the status quo, no matter the risk. And she’d do it again in a heartbeat. Giving up had never been her style.
    Except this time she didn’t know where to dig.
    Cal Burke was her last hope.
    And if an ex-detective couldn’t help her solve this puzzle, Linda was right.
    She might be at a dead end.

    “I think we’re at a dead end, buddy.”
    “Yeah.” Cal propped his fists on his hips and surveyed the accident scene, which had turned out to be closer to Defiance than Augusta. Then he followed Dev back to the gray Taurus. “Thanks for coming out with me.”
    “I didn’t have anything better to do on a Tuesday night. Especially in a white utility van. Not that I don’t appreciate we all drive company cars, you understand, but my vehicle-of-the-month is putting a serious crimp in my social life. It is not, shall we say, a date dazzler. I’m counting the days until I get the Explorer from Connor in May.”
    “He won’t be back until Saturday. Use it until then.”
    “I might. On Friday night, at least.”
    “Hot date?”
    “Maybe.”
    Flashing him a quick grin, Cal squinted into the setting sun and did a final three-sixty sweep. They’d walked every inch of the road near the skid marks—and well past. Ventured intothe woods on both sides. Checked out the drainage ditch. Did a thorough search of the area around the tree with the freshly ripped-off bark where Moira’s car had come to rest.
    And they’d come up with zilch. Zip. Nada.
    If anyone else had been around the night of the accident, they’d left no footprints, tire marks, hubcaps, or personal belongings of any kind, including pocket change, shoes, or glasses.
    “Assuming there was anything here to find, the torrential rain could have washed it away.” Dev gave the scene one last survey too.
    “I know.”
    It was time to go. The sun was setting, and they had a thirty-five-mile drive home.
    “Ready to call it a day?” Dev