Don't Look (Pike, Wisconsin #1) - Alexandra Ivy Page 0,59
the streetlamps and the shadows of predawn, giving the town square an artificial quality. As if it was a Hollywood set, not the town she’d known her whole life. The stores were dark, and the streets were empty. Just a sleepy night in Pike.
Then headlights slashed across the park and the camera’s shutter opened and closed in an effort to focus. The technical glitch nearly obscured the vehicle racing down the street, the tires throwing up loose snow in a spray of white. But just before it disappeared off the screen, Parker hit the pause button on the remote control and zoomed in.
Lynne surged to her feet, taking a step toward the television. “That’s my truck,” she choked out, pointing toward the license plate with the letters PAWSPRO. A joke from her father. “What time was this?”
“Four fifteen this morning,” Parker said, his lack of surprise warning Lynne that he’d already known it was her vehicle.
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“How my truck could be driving around town when I was in bed asleep.”
“You weren’t out on a call?” he asked.
She forced herself to think back. Sometimes her days ran together. Especially when she was crazy busy. It wasn’t unusual to get mixed up. “No,” she firmly denied. She’d spent the evening with Kir and then slept until her alarm went off at four forty-five. She released a shaky breath. “Someone must have stolen it.”
“Hmm.” Parker tossed the remote control on the desk and slowly pushed himself out of his chair. “I was coming to speak with you when I saw you drive past the park.”
She turned her head to send him a puzzled glance. “Why?”
“You were . . .” He deliberately paused, his lips twisting into a wry smile. “Upset when I mentioned that the drugs found in the dead women might have come from your clinic. I assumed you would be equally upset to discover your truck was filmed passing the park where a woman was being murdered.”
She licked her dry lips. “Ms. Randall was killed in the park?”
“Maybe her dead body was just dumped there,” he conceded. “Either way, it doesn’t look good to have your truck in the area.”
Despite her heavy coat and the heat in the room, Lynne was shivering. “Poor woman.”
Parker moved to perch on the corner of the desk. “What do you want me to do with the tape?”
“Excuse me?”
He nodded toward the television where the image of her tailgate was still frozen on the screen. “As far as I know I’m the only one who has seen this.”
She returned her attention to Parker’s handsome face. Was he trying to imply something? She wasn’t good at picking up subtle hints. “I’m sure it’ll just be a matter of time before the sheriff asks to see it.”
He smiled. “I could make it disappear.”
“Why would you do that?”
“I’m confident you have nothing to do with the murders, but the sheriff . . .” His words drifted away. Like a warning. After a long pause he continued. “She’s looking for someone to blame. I don’t want the killer to escape while the local law enforcement is chasing their own tails.”
She narrowed her eyes. Did she trust him? No. She was discovering that Parker Bowen was willing to use any situation for his own advantage, whether it was for his career or his personal life. She wasn’t entirely sure how he thought hiding the video of her truck could benefit him, but maybe he was one of those guys who went around gathering favors. There was a power in having people in your debt.
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” She offered a stiff smile. “Someone must have stolen my truck.”
He arched a brow. “And then returned it?”
Lynne froze, abruptly remembering the strange sensation when she’d first crawled into her truck. Had she subconsciously realized it’d been moved? Maybe the interior was a few degrees too warm. Or the seat not exactly in the right position.
A queasy horror clenched her stomach, but she met Parker’s gaze without flinching. She didn’t want him to realize how unnerved she was. “Yes.”
“You think the sheriff will believe you?”
“I have a witness.” It was a struggle for Lynne to form coherent words. She wasn’t afraid of the sheriff. Why would she be? She hadn’t done anything wrong. But the obscene thought that the killer had taken her truck to commit murder . . .
Parker stiffened, as if astonished by her confession. “A witness?”