Chapter 6 - THE DRIVE
“Move!”
Delaney shoved me sideways.
The SUV tore past us, missing the curb by inches.
The tackled waiter screamed.
The vehicle disappeared into the street.
Delaney grabbed his radio.
“Black SUV, south exit! Get the plate!”
My hands were shaking.
“Was Preston driving?”
“No,” the waiter said quickly.
I turned.
“You know who was?”
He looked away.
“What’s your name?”
“Eli.”
“Eli, somebody just tried to scare us—or kill us. Start talking.”
Delaney warned me, “Ma’am.”
“I’m not threatening him.”
Eli laughed bitterly.
“No. She’s right.”
He sat against the concrete wall.
“Preston gave me five hundred bucks.”
“For what?”
“To take the flash drive if anybody noticed it.”
“When?”
“Before the reception.”
My skin crawled.
So this wasn’t impulsive.
He had planned for something to go wrong.
“What’s on it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why did he have it?”
“I don’t know.”
Delaney sealed the drive in an evidence bag.
“We’ll figure that out later.”
Back inside, police had arrived.
Apparently guests calling 911 after seeing the chase had sped things along.
Officer Maya Ruiz took statements.
Preston denied everything.
Naturally.
“I’ve never seen that waiter before.”
Eli stared at him.
“You gave me five hundred dollars in the service hallway.”
Preston laughed.
“This is ridiculous.”
Eli reached into his wallet and removed five hundred-dollar bills.
Then his phone.
“You texted me.”
Preston stopped laughing.
Eli handed the phone to Ruiz.
I watched her scroll.
Her expression tightened.
The messages came from a number saved only as P.
Take the silver drive if anything happens.
No questions.
$500.
Destroy it afterward.
Ruiz looked at Preston.
“Is this your number?”
“No.”
She dialed it.
A phone started ringing.
Not Preston’s recovered iPhone.
Another ringtone.
Muffled.
Coming from behind the wedding stage.
Everyone turned.
Ruiz walked toward the sound.
She bent behind a curtain.
Then stood holding a second cell phone.
Preston’s shoulders dropped.
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
Ruiz checked the screen.
The number matched.
But that wasn’t the worst part.
A message notification appeared at the top.
One sentence.
FROM: HARRIS
If Rachel sees the video, we’re both finished.
I stopped breathing.
Ruiz looked at me.
“Do you know someone named Harris?”
I did.
May you like
Everyone in my family did.
Thomas Harris had been driving the truck that killed my husband.
