It was. She went over to the counter next to the refrigerator and grabbed her radio. She almost didn’t answer it—the last time she got a call hadn’t exactly worked out well for her—before stubbornly jabbing the receiver button.
“This is Ophelia. Good morning.”
The last voice she expected came booming out of the radio:
“Miss De Angelis, this is Deputy Collins. I’m calling on behalf of the sheriff. How are you today?”
“Fine.” Was it a lie? She didn’t know.
“I’m glad to hear that. I have some news that might make you feel even better. We found the man who attacked you last night.”
“You found Turner?” Oh, Lord, was Lucas right? Turner was still in town. Was he on his way back to Ophelia? “Where was he? Can I see him?”
She had a few things she had to say to him.
“Unfortunately, no. The sheriff has given me permission to confirm that the outsider’s truck was found about two hours ago. It appears that Mr. Turner lost control of his vehicle and slid into the valley surrounding the outskirts of town. It’s just been confirmed. Turner was inside the truck when it crashed.”
“Is he…” She couldn’t bring herself to ask.
Lucas was openly listening to the conversation. Setting his work aside, he pushed his chair away from the table. “Do you think anyone could survive that?” he asked Maria.
No. She did not.
Dead. The outsider was dead.
Turner was dead.
She wanted to bash his head in. She threatened to kill him if he touched her. But she didn’t want him dead.
Her legs buckled beneath her. Lucas, watching for just a reaction, flew out of his chair and caught his sister before she crumpled on the floor. Holding her up, he brought her back over to the table.
Once he had her settled in her chair, he went back to where the communicator dropped from her limp grasp. With a quick flick of his finger, he turned it off before returning to his sister. Lucas rested his hand on her shoulder. He peered deeply into her pale blue eyes, searching for what, she had no clue. “Are you doing alright, Maria? You have nothing to worry about now. He’s gone.”
“Gone,” she repeated.
“I’ll have to go down there and see for myself. For your sake. You know that, right?”
“Yeah. Sure. I guess.”
Dead.
Turner drove all over the country, she remembered. His livelihood was his truck. Sure, she had him running scared. Would he really miss the wide maw of the gulley on the way out of town?
Was it really an accident?
“They’ll need me to act as coroner.” Right as he said that, the radio on the table buzzed. Lucas’s radio. It was a distinct sound, a short chime that was different from the loud pulsing ring Maria was used to. “The sheriff’s signal. Just like I thought. Cait’ll want me down there to check the scene, too.”
“Luc, wait—”
Lucas picked up his radio. Thumb poised over the receiver, he looked over at Maria and waited. His face was absolutely expressionless. No sign of surprise. No sign of remorse. Nothing.
The words tripped over themselves on the way out.
“I just… did you—”
She stopped.
It wasn’t possible. There was no way Lucas could have had anything to do with Turner’s fate. His truck was only just found. Lucas had an alibi—he was with her all night.