15 Seconds

Unknown Caller-answer in a halting tone.

“This is Carrie.”

“What’s old, rusted, and jangles around a lot in a box?” I asked.

She hesitated, checking the number again, confused. “What?”

“ADJ-4392. Or I sure wish it did!”

I watched as Carrie Holmes’s eyes went wide.

“How’s the food here? I hear it’s the best north of Blackville!”

This time her eyes jumped up and darted around the restaurant, finally settling on me, my menu lowering, the cell phone at my ear.

I took off my glasses. Peered at her through the four-day-old growth and the golf cap.

Her jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing here?” she blurted.

It sounded a lot more like a demand than a question.

“The same thing you’re doing here. I just saw Fellows. He told me you were here. I didn’t realize I had the right plate number until now!”

The color began to rush from her face, giving way to a look of distrust or bewilderment. Or maybe even concern.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” I said. “Please, please, don’t be afraid. I want to come over and talk. You don’t have to worry about me in any way. You know that! Can I do that? Can I come over, Carrie? I-”

“No!” she barked. “Stay where you are!” Then, grasping how ridiculous this all was and that she had nothing to fear, she kind of took a step back and said nervously, “Okay. Okay. But look, I-”

Neither of us seemed to be finishing sentences very well.

She was flustered. A bit unnerved. The same way I was flustered. I pushed out of my seat and headed toward her down the aisle. My legs, a little rubbery. I could see she wasn’t sure whether to yell out or jump up and arrest me. And I didn’t know whether to hug her in gratitude or make a run for it.

I sat down in the seat across from her.

I couldn’t help but grin. “I was right, wasn’t I? You found the blue car. You traced the plates. To Fellows. That’s why you’re here. Which basically means the car was at both crime scenes. Just like I said.”

She nodded tentatively.

“Which then means you know I’m completely innocent, don’t you? You know I’m being set up.”

Suddenly I couldn’t control my grin.

“Look, all I know is-” She barely got the words out of her mouth when the waitress came up. A little chunky, her hair up in a bun, the name Nanci embroidered on her blouse. She plopped a menu in front of me.

“Well, you two seem to have hit it off… Specials are on the board. Chili’s Southern style, which means no beans. It’s always good. Chicken and biscuits seem to be crowd-pleasers too.”

“Just gimme a second,” I said to her, maybe slightly abrupt. Then, softening my tone: “How about I take whatever she’s having…”-pointing to a bowl of soup in front of Carrie.

“Turkey okra,” Nanci said. “Crackers… ?”

“Yes, crackers! Thanks…” She continued to stand around as she wrote my order on her pad.

My eyes went back to Carrie. Both of us seemed to smile.

“You know I wasn’t in North Carolina the day that gun was bought,” I finished my thought. “The same blue car was at both crime scenes! What was it, a Mercury or a Ford?”

“Mazda,” she said, chuckling. “Look, I don’t know anything for sure. It’s possible you could have sent someone else to get that gun. Gun shows are notorious for being loose with records…”

“Carrie…”

“And that car at both crime scenes doesn’t actually prove anything. It surely doesn’t prove you didn’t do it, only that there could be some other possible explanation. Or that you had an accessory…”

“Carrie,” I said again.

“What I do know is I work for the Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office. And you shouldn’t be here, Dr. Steadman. I shouldn’t be sitting-”

“Carrie!” I said one more time, raising my voice. “You don’t have to be afraid. I know you believe me. You’re here.”

Her eyes slowly relaxed and she curled her hair around her ear as she blew out her cheeks and leaned back against the padded booth.

And nodded.

I said, “It’s okay.”

Nanci came back with my salad and soup. “Bowl’s hot,” she said, setting it down.

“Thanks.”

“And free refills, just so you know.”

“Good.” I shot her an exasperated glance. “Thanks.”

She went away, and Carrie looked at me. She took off her glasses. “What did Fellows tell you?”

“I figure the same thing he told you. That he has no idea where the plates might be. He showed you the box?” I took a sip of the soup. “Jeez.” It scalded my tongue. “This is hot!”

Carrie nodded, holding back a thin smile. “Guess we both got the same spiel.”

“So it was Fellows?” I said, taking another sip of soup, and I had to admit, after living out of fast-food drive-through windows for the past four days, it tasted good. “Where those plates came from.”

She nodded again. “How did you get here?”

“Had someone I know spiff a DMV worker in South Carolina. I had them pull everything that began with ADJ-4… Then I worked my way down the list.”

“Not bad.” Carrie smiled. “Do you believe he doesn’t know where the plates went? That he has nothing to do with it?”

“I don’t know… You’re the detective… But it still means something, though… It means whoever is involved is from around here. They had to have had some contact with Fellows.”

“You know anyone from this area?” she asked.

“No.” The South Carolina connection stumped me. “I don’t.”

“So why would someone be doing this to you?” Carrie fixed on me. “If they wanted to kill you, they could have done it at any time. Instead, they went after Martinez and your friend. Why?” Her gaze stayed tight on me.

“I don’t know. I’ve gone over this a hundred times. And I still have no idea.”

“But the person who did do it… he not only had to be connected to Fellows, but in some way he also had to know about you. When you’d be in Jacksonville. What you were doing there. Where you were headed. He knew about your friend Dinofrio…”

I hadn’t thought about Mike for a day now and it hurt to bring him to mind all over again. That he had died while trying to help me hurt even more. I nodded emptily and closed my eyes.

I wanted to tell her about the calls. About my daughter. Keeping it from her was killing me inside. She had already put so much of herself on the line for me.

“I’m starting to think, if this whole thing is simply to entrap me, for what I don’t know, Martinez had to have been in on it too. I mean, killing him was either a spur-of-the-moment thing, or… Or it was planned. That could be why he stopped me and pulled me out of the car in the first place, for basically nothing… But how could anyone have known where I’d be? At that exact time? And what I’d be driving?”

“You were followed,” Carrie said, her blue eyes fixed on me. “Probably right from the airport.”

“From the airport…? This is all insane!” I said, cradling my head in my hands. It was wearing on me, but the more I thought about it-the rented Caddie, my destination, Mike-someone must have known. I thought back to Martinez. His insistence about the insurance thing and how I was driving down a one-way street… Had that all been meant as a kind of provocation? To anger me? To make me react? Sir, if I have to tell you to shut your mouth again, it will not go well for you…