Getaway Death, page 1
GETAWAY DEATH
LILY ROCK MYSTERY BOOK ONE
BONNIE HARDY
Copyright © 2021 Bonnie Hardy
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance of fictional characters to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author and publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
eBook ISBN: 978-1-954995-00-0
Paperback ISBN: 978-1-954995-01-7
Cover Design by Ebook Launch
CONTENTS
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Epilogue
Continue the series with Influenced to Death
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PROLOGUE
Overheard in Lily Rock
“I love the town of Lily Rock. Their lies are so authentic.”
Fog rolled over the mountain road. Despite the poor visibility, the woman drove as if her life depended upon it.
A sharp curve to the right—her squealing tires issued a warning.
Tentatively removing one hand from the steering wheel, she kept her eyes on the road, her fingers reaching down for her windshield wipers. Swish. The blade on the glass moved to the left, then the right. Her gaze remained fixed on the road in front of her. Reaching over the steering wheel, she swiped with her hand at the thick condensation blocking her view from inside the car.
Veering into the next curve, she felt her stomach lurch. Brakes squealed again as the car catapulted into an unexpected second hairpin turn. Her head lolled to the right. As she came out of the curve, she pushed the button on the foggy driver’s side door and rolled down the window, revealing clouds of fog.
Another vehicle rumbled behind her car, close to her bumper.
“I guess somebody’s in a big hurry,” she snapped to the empty car.
The window slid shut as she looked out of the front windshield to the right, then the left. No turnout lane yet. Tightness stiffened her neck as her hands began to shake on the wheel. Stop tailgating me. Please.
She felt the tires slip on the road, the car floating for a moment. As she slammed on the brakes, her body heaved against the seat belt, her neck and head rocking forward then back. Her stomach came up to her throat.
As her car skidded toward the cliff, she only had one thought:
I finally know how I will die.
CHAPTER ONE
Overheard in Lily Rock
“I’m not going to talk to anyone. I didn’t come here to make friends.”
“You sound like a girl on The Bachelor.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Ouch.” She touched her palm to her forehead. The deployed airbag held her body snugly against the seat, though her arms felt sore where she’d shielded her face at the time of the crash.
Reaching to release her seat belt, she noticed she couldn’t get out on her side; the door was crushed inward, almost touching her. She stared out of the passenger window. Her heart beat wildly. From where she sat, there was a steep cliff on the other side of the door, but there was no other way to escape. Was that … had she just felt the car move a little? I’d better get out of this car right away! Nervously jerking her body around she froze. Better move slowly. I may pass out.
She hit the side of the passenger door with her fist. Placing both hands against the paneling she shoved, and as the door gradually opened she froze again. My purse. Where is my— She touched the strap over her shoulder. Her small bag still clung to her body, having survived the crash intact.
Bracing herself with a hand on the side of the car, she wedged her body to the outside, where a small amount of ground waited to catch her. The area might have been big enough to hold a few people, but it was far too small for her liking. A wave of nausea overtook her. Bending over she nearly vomited but stopped suddenly, hearing rustling overhead. She looked up toward the main road.
A tall man with dark hair peered down at her. He hollered, “Are you okay?”
She blinked away her fuzzy vision, as her knees trembled. Standing up from her crouched position she rocked back and forth on both feet until her stomach stopped lurching.
Unable to talk, she watched the man scramble down the berm, his boots slipping on the dirt and rocks. He came to a halt in front of her with a concerned look in his eyes. He offered her a hand.
“I thought you were dead,” he explained, pulling her a few steps farther away from the car. “You went over the cliff right in front of my eyes.” Seeing her confused face, he put both hands on her shoulders. “Your pupils are dilated. Are you feeling dizzy?”
She steadied herself by locking both knees to stop them from shaking. “The last thing I remember is the car free-falling.”
“You most likely thought you’d end up at the bottom of the canyon. From the road, no one can see the shelf under the bank. It looks like a steep drop-off, but it’s just a couple of feet over the edge. You were very lucky.”
“If you say so.” Her tone was soft and pained.
His voice lowered. “I don’t think your car fared as well. You didn’t answer me. Are you feeling dizzy?”
“I am kind of wobbly and I have a headache,” she admitted, holding her palm against the bump on her forehead.
The man’s voice turned all business. “We’ll have to call a towing service. It can take time for them to get to this neck of the woods.”
His eyes looked back toward her Ford Focus, taking in the smashed windshield and crushed driver’s side door, where she’d hit a tree on the way over the berm.
As he inspected her face more closely, his chin jutted forward. “If I knew you better I’d lecture you on driving mountain roads in the fog. Do you have your vehicle registration? The tow guys will want to see that, along with your proof of insurance.”
She pointed toward her car. “The registration is in my glove box, but you shouldn’t go in there either, unless you want the ride of a lifetime down the cliff.” She shrugged out of his grasp, testing her wobbly knees.
“My name is Olivia, Olivia Greer,” she said, taking a closer look at her rescuer. He stood over six feet tall, a worn plaid shirt hugging his strong arms, tapering to his jeans.
He smiled. “Nice to meet you, Olivia Greer.”
Before she could ask his name, a sharp pain stabbed her head, accompanied by another round of dizziness.
Unable to speak, she felt her chin droop toward her chest. He lunged forward to take her elbow before she fell to the dirt. “Let me help you,” he suggested.
Olivia shook her head. “I’ve got this. I’m fine now. The first responders will be here soon. You did call them, right?”
“How about I help you find a safe place to sit down over by my truck.” His firm voice made arguing impossible. She only needed to glance back at her car to realize she needed to get to higher ground. I could have died. One more inch …
He reached into his back pocket. “Before we hike up the cliff, here’s your cell phone. It must have fallen out of your pocket. Do you want to make the phone calls?”
Instead of taking the phone, she rubbed her forehead to clear her disconnected thinking.
“Since you know my name, could I ask yours?”
She felt his hand on her shoulder. “I think you may have a concussion. Do you feel kind of fuzzy?” Dark eyes stared into her face.
“So you’re not going to tell me your name?”
“It’s Michael—Mike. You’ll be okay.”
Shoving past her initial distrust of strangers, she remembered her better manners. “Thanks, Michael. I can’t imagine what I would have done without you.” How close she’d come to death … Her eyes filled with tears.
“Take my hand. We’re going to head up this cliff toward my truck so that I can give you a place to sit. At least you’ll be safe.” Without waiting for her permission, Michael took Olivia’s arm. “One step at a time,” he cautioned, as if speaking to a child.
He half-dragged and half-lifted Olivia up the steep berm. As she swayed from foot to foot, he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t close your eyes,” he warned. “You’ll find your balance. I’ve got you.”
“You said you have a truck
“Right over there,” he pointed.
Olivia’s eyes narrowed when she saw his vehicle. “You’re the one,” she muttered. “You were the guy tailgating me up the hill!”
“If you mean I’m the one who saved you from death, then yes, I am the one.”
“You didn’t save me. You pushed me over the cliff. The closer you got to my bumper, the more anxious I felt. I tried to drive slower so that you’d back off. You nearly killed me.”
Michael ducked his head. “I guess you could see it that way. I was concerned about you, that’s all. Your driving was erratic for this road, in these conditions. I wanted to help you out if you needed it, not make you afraid.”
Olivia swallowed her anger. “I don’t need any more of your help. Thanks a lot.” She looked back over her shoulder. “The towing service can get my vehicle registration. I can handle things from here.”
At the sound of a honk, Olivia looked down the main road. Traffic had lined up bumper-to-bumper as drivers gawked at the tall man and the small woman arguing with each other.
A green Chevy pickup executed a quick left turn, gravel spraying behind the wheels. A man stuck his head out of the window. “Need any help?” he hollered. “You got things covered, Mike?”
Olivia responded first. “I do need help. Would you take me into town? Ouch,” she cried, rubbing her hand against her head again.
“I can take you to the doc in town,” Michael offered.
She stood on wobbly legs, determined to stand on her own. Turning her around to face him, he said, “I am going to lift you into the cab of my truck and I don’t want any back talk. You can thank me later.”
With effortless strength, he hoisted her over his body like a sack of potatoes. A few long strides later, he placed her in the front seat. He waited until a faint smile came to her lips.
“Very noble of you, I must say,” Olivia muttered. Feeling self-conscious, she ran her fingers through close-cut brown hair. One long strand hung over her right eye, and she pushed it aside.
He smiled gently. “I would call 911, but in Lily Rock we rarely get assistance from the police unless there’s a dead body involved—too small a town. So I’d appreciate it if I could drive you. Since it’s all my fault, I’d like to make a police report and take you to the doctor to have you checked out. Would you let me do that?”
The hopeful look on his face brought a gentle smile to her lips. She dismissed the possibility that he’d deliberately driven her off the road to steal her car or her money or her person. She didn’t trust him, but she was in no position to refuse his offer.
“Do you need any more help?” hollered the man again from the green pickup. He’d watched the entire interaction between Michael and Olivia.
Olivia felt Michael move closer to the passenger side door in a protective way. He waited for Olivia to make up her mind.
Looking from one man to the other, she considered her options. I can let the Mike guy drive me, but I’m not sure I trust him. She touched her head, quickly deciding.
Raising her voice to be heard over the traffic, she shouted to the man in the green pickup. “Thanks, but I’ll drive with Michael. Appreciate your offer.”
He leaned farther out of the window. “I’m Arlo. Just ask around. Everybody in town knows me. Come on in for a beer on the house when you’re feeling better.” He steered his truck onto the highway, merging with the slower traffic.
Olivia watched him drive away. “Beer?” She turned to Mike.
“He’s the owner and manager of our local brew pub. He’s used to pretty women paying attention to him. Just so you know? Never cross the local bartender. Words of wisdom from my father.”
The words sounded familiar, like an old television western she used to watch with her mother when she was very small.
Michael shrugged. She realized he was a man of short sentences, which implied deeper meaning. Since she did not ask about his father, he stepped toward his truck to close the passenger door.
“We’d better get going. No one is showing up to help you out. Things must be busy in town, what with the fog and the tourists. I think some ice applied to your head may stop the swelling.”
He shut her door and hopped in on his side. As Michael eased into oncoming traffic, she leaned against the passenger window to place her throbbing forehead on the cold glass. Her eyes drooped shut.
The turn signal clicked. Then his voice said, “Fog’s lifted. We’ll be in town just short of twenty minutes.”
Her head swirled as the truck picked up speed.
“How long—”
“It’s only fifteen minutes more. We’re ahead of the worst congestion.” Michael navigated the sharp curve in the road, as Olivia’s stomach tightened.
“You live up here?” she asked. “You seem to know the roads.”
He answered her question with another question. “You are just visiting?”
“I am visiting for the first time—a friend.” She wondered why she bothered to answer his questions—him a stranger and all. As usual I’m being too friendly. She clamped her jaw shut.
“A friend?” He waited for her to fill in more information. When she failed to add details, he pointed to a sign stretching across the street. “We’re here. Welcome to Lily Rock.”
“I saw the sign,” she said. “Welcome to Lily Rock. Some welcome. I almost get killed being shoved off a cliff. I may turn around and go home today.”
“You mean,” he corrected, “you almost got killed due to the fact that you didn’t know how to drive in the mountains in the fog. You had your headlights on.”
“Of course I had my headlights on. I couldn’t see!” Olivia kept her eyes closed as she huddled into the passenger-side door. “Where are you taking me?”
“Instead of driving to the emergency care down the hill, which is a longer distance, I can take you to our local guy who provides health care in the village. I think he can take care of your head. He’s an MD.”
“I guess that works. What happened to the cops, anyway?”
Mike sighed. “This is a small town. Most of our responders are volunteer. It takes the sheriff at least twenty minutes to pick up a call and then another hour to find someone up here to show up. You’ve probably never lived in a small town.”
Against her better judgment, Olivia corrected his assumption. “I have lived in a small town. Playa del Rey.”
He nodded. “Oh, I know Playa. But honey, it is not small. It’s a suburb of Los Angeles and has five times the population of Lily Rock. You may think it’s small, but compared to what?”
“Since I am the one who lives there, I can call Playa small. Instead of correcting me, why don’t you just drop me off at the doctor’s?”
Rich laughter filled the truck cab. Michael shook his head.
Once in town he found an empty parking space. “Here we are. I’ll walk you in.”
“That will not be necessary.” She unlocked the passenger-side door, sliding both legs over the running board to the pavement beneath. Her body followed, crumpling to the ground.
Michael sprinted around the back of the truck. He didn’t catch her this time, but he did hover over her limp frame. Before he could lift her to her feet, a voice interrupted.
“Who do you have there, Michael?”
“I found her in a ditch on Route 63. She may have a concussion.” Bending over Olivia’s body, he touched her wrist for a pulse. Then he reached to brush the strand of hair from her face. Her eyes popped open.
“Oh no, you don’t,” she mumbled. “I’ve got this. You do not need to carry me again.”
