She turned to look at Moran then, who’d been standing back and staring at the floor, or his boots. Her father looked too, but when she said “Sheriff” both men turned to her.
“Can I ask you something, Sheriff?” she said, and Moran stood straighter.
“Of course, Audrey,” he said.
“Where is Caroline now?”
He glanced at her father, and her father said, “She knows. She’s asking about the body,” and Moran turned back to her.
“She’s gone back home, Audrey. Her folks flew up to get her yesterday and they took her back with them. Mr. Price, her father, drove up here to see you but you were still . . . sleeping. He and Caroline’s mother wanted to get her back home and put her to rest.”
Audrey looked away and the tears ran to her jaw and from there fell to her collarbone. She wiped her face with the palm of her good hand and turned back to Moran. He wasn’t finished with his questions, and she waited for the next one. He’d removed his jacket—they both had—and when he stepped up to the side of the bed she saw the sheen of sweat on his forehead.
“I was hoping you could tell me more about those two boys, Audrey. From the gas station.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Did you get a good look at them?”
“It was dark back there, and they were both wearing caps with, you know, bills, so their faces were dark.”
“Were they black?”
“Their faces?”
“Were they African American.”
“No, they were white boys. They smelled like car engines and beer. And cigarettes.”
“How old were they?”
“I don’t know. Twentysomething.”
“Names?”
Audrey shook her head. Then, as she remembered it, she said, “Bud.”
“Bud?”
“The one Caroline sprayed, the one on the ground—the other one called him Bud.”
“As in the name Bud?” said Moran. “Or ‘bud’ as in ‘buddy’?”
She thought about that. “I thought it was his name. But now I’m not sure.”
Moran flipped open his notebook and wrote it down. The notebook was small and black and just like the one her father had used. “And the other boy?”
“I never heard his name.”
“Did you get their license plate?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you see what they were driving?”
“No, sir.”
“You didn’t see them follow you?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you see who came up behind you at the top of the bank—who gave your car a bump?”
“It wasn’t my car.”
“Caroline’s car then. Was it those boys?”
“I couldn’t see who was driving. The headlights were in our eyes.”
Moran nodded. “You said, earlier, that Caroline pepper-sprayed those boys pretty good. They must’ve been mad as heck.”
“So was Caroline.”
“Do you think they were in any shape to drive?”
“I don’t know, Sheriff. We didn’t stick around to find out.”
Moran looked at her father, as if out of some old habit, but quickly turned back to her. “Did you see the vehicle that came up behind you, what kind of vehicle it was?”
“The lights were real high, and I thought maybe it was some kind of truck.” Then she remembered something she’d forgotten, something she’d seen as Caroline’s car spun around and around on the ice.
“It was a truck, Sheriff. I saw it from the river, when we were spinning around, before the ice broke. It was just sitting up there. And the next time I looked up, when I was lying on the ice, it was gone.”
“Did you see what kind of truck it was?”
“What kind of truck?”
“Yes.”
“Like a Chevy or a Ford or whatever?”
“Yes.”
“I have no idea. Plus I was, like, spinning around on a frozen river.”
“Could you see the color?”
“No, sir.”
“Was it new-looking or old?”
“I don’t know. It was just a truck, Sheriff.”
“Audrey,” said her father gently. “The sheriff is only trying to help us here.”
“I know he is. What did I say?”
Moran stood looking at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“I’m sorry to badger you, Audrey. I know you must be upset about the accident. And about your friend. But I have to tell those folks down in Georgia what happened up here. I have to tell them what happened to their daughter. That truck that bumped you, that sent you and Caroline down the bank—do you have any reason to think it was intentional? That whoever was driving it meant to do you harm?”
“No, sir. Only he didn’t do anything to help us either, did he. Or she.”
She drank more water. Moran waiting, watching her. Her arm under the cast was throbbing like a heart.
“I just have to ask you one more question and then I’ll get