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Justice Burning (Hellfire #2)(3)

By:Elle James


His interest spiked, and he increased his speed, hoping to catch up to the car to check it out.





2





No. No. No.

This could not be happening. Phoebe tried to back away from the fence post, but the convertible’s rear tires spun in the dry Texas dust. The front bumper, seeming to have adhered to the fence post, refused to let go.

To make her shithole of a life worse, a county sheriff’s SUV pulled to a stop on the pavement. A man in a dark brown uniform, wearing a black cowboy hat with a badge pinned to it stepped out. He hurried down into the ditch, arriving at her door all too soon. “Ma’am, are you okay?”

The wind picked up again and lifted the dress, smothering her face. Phoebe struggled to keep it down, failing miserably. In a stolen car, with a dead body in the trunk, she was going to jail. No doubt in her mind. If by some slim chance, she could get away, maybe she could hide the body, or take it back to the church where all of this had begun. Yeah, she could take back the car and the body.

“Excuse me, ma’am.”

“Huh?” She blinked and stared into the startling blue eyes of the sheriff’s deputy looking down at her.

He tipped his hat. “I’m Deputy Grayson. I asked if you were okay.” He gave a hint of a smile, making a ruggedly handsome face even more attractive.

At least if she was to be arrested, she’d be frisked by a cute deputy. She giggled, hysteria threatening to take over.

“Do you need help?” he asked.

Did she need help? Lord knew she needed help, but this deputy wasn’t the kind of help she needed at the moment. Only a miracle could save her from this disaster. “No. I just need help getting the car off the fence.”

The deputy rounded the front of the vehicle and shook his head. “Put it in reverse. I’ll see if I can kick the bumper loose from the fence post. On three…”

Phoebe nodded, shifted the car into reverse, and waited for his cue.

“One.” Bracing a hand on the fence post, he stepped up on the bumper of the car. “Two…three.” Grayson bounced hard on the bumper at the same time as Phoebe goosed the gas pedal.

The car broke free of the fence post, the back tires found traction, lumbered up the embankment and back onto the highway, where metal scraped against pavement. For a moment, Phoebe wondered, if she shifted into drive, could the convertible outrun the deputy’s vehicle. Then she remembered the flat tire.

Deputy Grayson jogged up the incline and stopped in front of her hood, inspecting the front of her vehicle, his lips twisting. “The bumper’s got a nasty dent, and your tire is destroyed. You’ll need to change it before you go any farther.”

“No. I can’t,” she said, her heart thumping hard in her chest. She crossed her fingers beneath the folds of her wedding dress. “I don’t have a spare.”

“Are you sure?” He rolled his hand. “Pop the trunk. Sometimes they’re hidden beneath the trunk lining.”

“No, really. I checked a few minutes ago.” She shifted into drive and glanced over her shoulder. I have to get away from him. “I’ll just have to drive it flat into the next town.”

“No need.” He keyed the mic on the radio clipped to his shoulder. “Gretchen, I have a disabled vehicle on the highway east of town. We’ll need a tow truck to retrieve it.”

“No, no. I can take care of it myself. No need to bother anyone,” Phoebe said, her grip tightening on the wheel. “Really.”

“No bother. If you’ll just hand me the keys, I’ll have the service man tow it to the shop, change out the tire, and you can be on your way, barring any damage from the collision with the fence post.” Bracing his feet apart, he held out his hand. “First, I’ll need to see your license and registration.”

“Well…you see…” Heat rose up her cheeks. “I kind of left in a hurry…” She glanced down at her dress. “I forgot to bring my purse with my driver’s license.” Phoebe glanced up at the deputy.

“Well, I’m sorry, ma’am, but I can’t let you drive without a license.” He leaned into the window and pointed at the glove box. “Let me see the vehicle registration, please.”

Phoebe leaned over the console and fished in the glove box for anything resembling a registration, sweat popping out on her forehead. She found a slim, black folder beneath the convertible’s owner’s manual. Inside it was…surprise! The registration papers. The vehicle wasn’t Ryan’s. He’d rented it.

She didn’t know whether to be relieved or not. Pulling the paper from the envelope, she handed it to Deputy Grayson. “Is this what you were looking for?”

“Yes, ma’am. Please step out of the vehicle.”

“Am I being arrested?” she asked, her pulse hammering through her veins. If he arrested her, would he have the right to search the vehicle? So much for independence. Phoebe could see that she would have to call her father and get him and his expensive attorneys to bail her out of jail.

“No, I hadn’t planned on arresting you.” He tilted his head. “Should I?”

Phoebe widened her eyes. “N-no. Of course not. I haven’t broken any laws.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. Except one. Grand theft auto. Although, it was a rental and the man who’d rented it was in it, so she really hadn’t stolen it. Had she?

“I can’t remember if driving under the influence of a wedding dress was covered in the police academy.” Deputy Grayson’s lips twitched. “But driving without a license is against the law. I won’t arrest you if you step out of the vehicle and allow me to escort you to town. When you obtain that license, you can drive.”

“Oh. Well. I guess I could send for it. But I can’t have you tow the vehicle and change the tire. You see, because I don’t have my purse, I don’t have money or credit cards to pay for the work.” With the registration papers in hand, she pulled the keys from the ignition, gathered her skirts and stepped out of the convertible. “Couldn’t we just leave it here for now?”

“Sorry, but we can’t leave it on the road.” He held out his hand for the registration papers. “Well, this helps. Since this is a rental car, the agency should foot the bill for the towing and the new tire. All it will take is to call them and get them moving on it.”

“How nice.” Phoebe stared at the trunk, wondering what the rental car company would think about the excess luggage they’d find when they came to collect the vehicle.

No, the body couldn’t be there when the rental car company arrived. Phoebe had to get Ryan out of the trunk before anyone found him. “If the rental car company will take care of the repairs, shouldn’t we leave it here for them to collect it? Maybe they have their own wrecker service they like to call,” she suggested.

“There’s only one in Hellfire. Since you’ve also bent the front bumper, you might have damaged the radiator or something else in the engine. The car really needs to be checked before you get back on the road.”

The man clearly wouldn’t let the damned car sit on the side of the road.

While she stood there arguing, another vehicle appeared on the highway, heading in their direction. Phoebe dragged in a deep breath and blew it out.

A wrecker drove past them, turned around, passed them again and then backed up to the convertible. Painted on the side of the truck was the name Grayson’s Auto Shop.

Phoebe fought to keep from rolling her eyes. She raised her brows and stared at Deputy Grayson. “A relative of yours?”

The deputy smiled, causing the butterflies in Phoebe’s belly to flap. “My brother.” Grayson nodded toward the driver of the vehicle. “If you’ll ride with me, then my brother will take care of your vehicle.”

“Thanks, but I’ll ride with the tow truck,” she said.

“Are you always so argumentative?” Deputy Grayson asked.

“Not usually.” She’d never argued with her folks. Today had been her big day to break all the rules she’d grown up with. And what had it bought her? Potential jail time!



Nash put the woman’s nerves down to having wrecked and—by the looks of her—being late for a wedding.

Hers.

He found himself thinking it was too bad. She was pretty with long dark red hair tumbling around silky, smooth shoulders. A guy would be lucky to get a pretty thing like her for a wife.

“Is there someone I need to call?” he asked, holding out a hand to help her out of the vehicle. “I take it you might be late for a wedding.”

“No.” She glanced down at her dress and then up at him, her eyes wide, her bottom lip trembling. “I’m not late for a wedding. I…I changed my mind.”

A strange feeling of relief washed over Nash as she placed her hand in his and turned, edging bare feet out of the car door.

“Ma’am, do you have shoes somewhere beneath all of that dress?”

She shook her head and grimaced. “No. I kicked off my shoes as I ran out of the church.”

“Do you have a spare pair stowed in the trunk?”

Her eyes widened even more. “No!” She dipped down her head and continued in a more sedate tone. “I brought nothing with me. No purse, no suitcase. The trunk is empty. Really.”