Satisfied that his chin was clean and treated, she studied the bruise on his cheek. “Honestly, Sam, you’re starting to resemble a patchwork quilt. You’ve got bruises in a half dozen different colors.”
He gave a rueful shrug. “I seem to be accident prone lately.” Had he always been, or was this new for him?
“How in the world did you fall this hard?” she asked as she slid the washcloth over his cheek. “Was there a broken place in the sidewalk?”
Regretfully, he drew his gaze away from the intriguingly gaping scoop neck of her T-shirt. “You aren’t going to like this.”
The washcloth stilled against his face. She frowned into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“Some moron in an SUV almost ran me down in the middle of Main Street. I had to dive out of the way—and I hit the sidewalk harder than I’d intended.”
“Someone almost hit you?” Her eyes had gone very wide, her cheeks draining of color. “How? Did the driver run a red light or something? He didn’t see you? You didn’t see him?”
“I don’t know. I’d have sworn there was no vehicle approaching when I started across the street, and then suddenly there was a big, dark SUV bearing right down on me.”
“How close was it?”
He grimaced, almost feeling the whoosh of hot air against his skin again. “Too damned close.”
Her hand fell to his shoulder, resting there in an almost protective gesture. “Who was driving? I hope you let the idiot have it for his carelessness.”
“He, uh, didn’t stop.”
That brought the color back into her face in a wave of temper. “He didn’t stop? You mean, he nearly hit you and then just drove on?”
“Yeah, that pretty much describes it.”
“Is there any chance he didn’t see you?”
Remembering his very narrow escape, Sam shook his head. “He saw me.”
“What kind of jerk would pull a stunt like that? You said Red Tucker saw the entire incident?”
“Yes. Apparently, he stepped out of the insurance company at approximately the same time I noticed the vehicle myself.”
“Red’s the best mechanic in the area. He knows what everyone drives, whether he works on their cars or not. Did he recognize the SUV?”
“He said he’d never seen it before. That seemed to disturb him.”
“Did you contact Dan? He should know there’s a reckless fool endangering lives around here.”
“I haven’t talked to him. I’m sure he’ll hear about it, though,” he added in resignation.
“Good.”
“Serena—there’s one other thing you need to know,” he said reluctantly.
She tilted her head, as if she was preparing herself for another unpleasant shock. “What now?”
“It’s about Red Tucker and what he’s probably telling everyone. He, uh, has this wild idea that the driver deliberately tried to hit me.”
“He what?”
Sam suppressed a wince when her hand tightened so forcefully on his shoulder that her short nails dug through his shirt. It felt as though he might have a couple more bruises in the morning—a bit more decoration for the patchwork, he thought wryly, remembering the imagery she’d used.
Shaking his head, he tried to speak reassuringly. “It’s a crazy idea, of course. I tried to convince Red that he had to be mistaken, but he wouldn’t listen. He said the SUV was parked until I stepped into the road, at which time the driver gunned the motor and headed straight for me. When I tried to move out of the way, the SUV seemed to follow.”
“Oh, my God.” Her face had gone white again.