“The Chetwynd development.”
“Sure, I know it, about fifteen minutes away. I’ll give you a lift home.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll call her, I hate to put you out.” Jake hid his alarm. The last thing he wanted was to ride home with a cop, and God forbid that Ryan saw him pull up in a police cruiser.
“It’s no trouble. I’m happy to do it.”
Donna burst into laughter. “Of course he’s happy to do it! Officer John gets lonely tooling around in his copmobile, since his partner got reassigned. He’ll talk your ear off. The siren’s the only thing that shuts him up.”
“Ha! Very funny, Donna.” Officer McMullen laughed again, then motioned Jake forward in a way that was suddenly authoritative. “Come with me, sir. I’ll make an incident report, then I’ll give you a lift home. I insist.”
Chapter Eight
Jake followed Officer McMullen to his cruiser, a black-and-white muscle car with a massive chrome grille and a sleek modern lightbar on the roof.CHETWYND POLICE,read gold reflective letters on its jet-black door. Jake had managed not to be nervous when he’d given Officer McMullen his statement about the Dumpster accident because Donna had stayed with them, interrupting with chatter. But now that Jake was alone with the cop, he felt anxious about the ride home. He could have handled it before the news about Kathleen Lindstrom, but not now. It was as if he had too many emotions to hide.
“Mr. Buckman, there is no room for you up front. Don’t take it personally. My duty bag takes up the whole damn passenger seat. See?” Officer McMullen motioned to the front seat of the cruiser, where a gray nylon messenger bag filled the passenger seat next to a laptop mounted over the console, tilted toward the driver’s seat. A large black AK-47 was mounted upright between the two front seats, its butt down and its lethal muzzle facing up.
“I see,” Jake said, trying to get his act together.
“There’s not much room in this car, that’s the problem. We got these new Dodge Chargers with a hemi. We love ’em because they’re so fast. But they’re not that comfortable and the seats are small. Sometimes I miss the old Crown Vics.” Officer McMullen opened the back door. “Here you go, sir.”
“Thank you.” Jake climbed into the backseat, which had no cushioning, but was made of molded gray plastic and separated from the front seat by a metal barrier and a thick plastic panel, with a sliding window in the middle.
“Buckle up, sir.” Officer McMullen shut the heavy door, which made a solid sound.
“Thanks.” Jake reached for the shoulder harness, buckling himself in. He felt as if he deserved to be where he was, in the backseat of a cruiser. He should be under arrest, brought to justice to pay for the death of Kathleen Lindstrom.
“How you doing back there, sir? Could you be any less comfortable?” Officer McMullen climbed in the front seat, slammed his door closed, and buckled in his shoulder harness. He reached back and slid aside the window between the front seat and backseat, making a foot-wide opening.
“It’s fine, thanks,” Jake called back, miserably.
“Let’s roll.” Officer McMullen started the ignition, reversed out of the lot, and headed for the exit. “It’s a shame about your car.”
“It sure is.” Jake pulled out his iPhone and checked the time. It was almost nine o’clock, so Pam would be up. He prayed Ryan would still be in his room asleep, so he didn’t know about Kathleen yet.
“My brother-in-law has an Audi. They’re fast, aren’t they?”
“Yes. Excuse me, I’ll just text my wife and tell her we’re on the way.” Jake composed a text to Pam.Had a minor fender bender. Cop giving me a ride home.
“Good call.” Officer McMullen cruised ahead, talking idly over his shoulder. “I’m married twenty-six years. My wife likes it when she knows what’s going on. Women, they like to know things.”
“Right.” Jake added,See you soon.He hitSENDand held the phone. He looked out the window at the passing scenery, his heart aching.
“Kind of a busy morning, this one. Everybody’s over at a scene on Pike Road, a hit-and-run. That’s where I was when the property-damage call came in, for you. My supervisor told me to go.”
Oh God.Jake kept his expression calm, so he didn’t look suspicious in the rearview mirror. He hadn’t anticipated that McMullen would’ve been at the scene, but Pike Road and the Wawa were both in Whiteland Township, which was small. It wasn’t unlikely that the cop who came to the Wawa would also have been on Pike Road.
“I’ll tell you this, it wasn’t pretty.” Officer McMullen slowed the cruiser to a stop at a red light. “The victim was a high-school kid, a jogger. Female.”
“What a shame.” Jake swallowed hard, feeling a wave of regret so powerful he almost confessed. Then it could all be over. He would be punished, he would pay. But so would Ryan.
“They were gathering evidence when I left. No suspects yet, in case you were wondering.”
Jake should have been wondering, but he was still thinking about Kathleen. He flashed on her bloodied face, for the umpteenth time.
“We got a crack team on the case. We call in a team of accident-reconstruction officers who are specially trained to investigate a hit-and-run. We share them. We don’t have the payroll to justify them, or the need, but we borrow them from Pikeland Township.”
Jake nodded, but Officer McMullen didn’t require encouragement to keep talking.
