“Clay, help me slowly lay her flat and then turn her onto her side, with her feet at your end. Careful. Don’t pull too hard. No telling what’s going on internally. That’s it.”
Once they had her positioned, Clay brushed the long strands of reddish-brown hair from the driver’s face and frowned.
Emma noticed his reaction. “Do you know her?”
Did he? Though they were very pale, there was something familiar about her soft, full lips. Lily’s mouth.
Forty-five minutes later, after the ambulance departed and all of the rubberneckers had moved on, he stood with a set of keys in his hand, wondering what to do next. That had been Lily. He was almost certain of it. Her mouth. The color of her ultra-long, wavy hair. The scar on the underside of her chin was the same, too. If it was her, he owed it to her as an old friend to help her. If it wasn’t her, he might be biting off more than he could chew. He could choose to get involved or not.
The storefront window was secure, and the Mazda had been moved. It had minor damage to the front bumper and hood. Thankfully she hadn’t been moving very fast. Sliding the keys into his pocket, he approached Sheriff Stinson just as Emma Guthrie, who appeared to be ready for a night on the town, and her men said good-bye. Apparently they were her men, judging by the territorial way they’d reacted earlier to finding out that he was friends with her.
The sheriff nodded to him when he made eye contact. “Clay, we’ll have a tow truck around for her vehicle shortly.”
“Can you tell me the driver’s name?”
Glancing at his clipboard, Hank said, “King.”
“King?”
“Yeah, Lily King. Durst, Texas.”
Clay’s heart thudded in his chest. She was married, and apparently in the middle of a hurried moving day, judging by the jumble of hastily packed boxes and luggage in the backseat of her car. The old bruise Emma had briefly examined high on her cheekbone hadn’t escaped his notice either.
“Do you know her?”
Scrubbing his hand through his hair, Clay replied, “Yeah. I do. Listen, why don’t you cancel the tow truck? We’ve already moved her vehicle into a parking spot, so it’s not in the way. I’ll handle seeing that it’s secured and that she gets her keys back.”
Hank eyed him quietly. “Looks like everything the girl owns is inside that little car. She looked pretty puny. Hope she makes it. You sure about doing that?”
Clay nodded. “Yeah. She’s an old friend.”
“All right. I’ll call Dave and cancel the tow.”
After Hank departed, Clay made sure the vehicle was locked up and then went back into the shop. He found Tabitha at her little cubby in the center of the circle of glass showroom cases. She was talking a mile a minute on her phone. Glancing up at him, she whispered sharp words and then ended the call.
“You need me to hang around for anything, Clay?”
Ignoring the way she drew out her words, Clay shook his head. “No. If you’re done you can go.”
With a dismissive wave of her hand Tabitha replied, “The register is already shut down and the cash drawer is on your workbench. I was writing the mailing labels for the Internet kink orders, but I can finish all that up tomorrow.”
Clay wanted to correct her wordage, but his mind was on Lily, and he didn’t want to wage the same old battle with Tabitha again. He’d been happy just to get her to do the address labels and ship the boxes to his Internet customers. “All right. See you in the morning.”
Tabitha glanced at him demurely when she brushed past him, murmuring good night. The bell jingled as the door swung closed behind her, and Clay sneezed. After turning off the lights in the showroom and securing the cash drawer in the safe, Clay returned to his seat at his workbench.
Judging by Emma’s words, Lily’s condition had sounded very serious. Debating whether he should go up to the hospital, he bowed his head and prayed for her. Something had brought her back to her hometown. If she pulled through, he planned to find out exactly what it was.
Divine was enveloped in twilight when he stepped through the back door of his jewelry shop. He’d been in business for himself for nearly eight years, and it was going strong. Too bad the accomplishment felt hollow tonight. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the reason why.
He glanced at her car, remembering the hodgepodge of her belongings filling the backseat. It would be terrible if all her possessions were stolen from her vehicle overnight. Although Divine was a small, quiet town, crimes still happened. He transferred all the boxes and luggage to the backseat of his pickup truck and then locked up her car.
It was Saturday night. O’Reilley’s? Rudy’s again? Taco Bell? He settled for a drive-thru sandwich place and a large coffee. He wolfed the sandwich down in his quiet kitchen and then took the pictures Chance Carlisle had given him, settled in his big overstuffed recliner and began to sketch out the bronze statue of Lydia that he would be creating.