David patted the shards in his pocket, smiling at the solid clue the day had brought. It had been so long since anything had seemed to fall into place or point in a specific direction that he could hardly believe their luck.
A bright grin spread across his face, as he shifted gears rolling into the intersection as hope bubbled in his chest.
The sound of tearing metal, and the impact of a heavy vehicle slamming into the front of the old pick up rattled the young man to the bones, his head bounced off of the T section behind the door and the world went black.
The flash of colored lights flickered into David’s brain, and then ebbed to darkness once more. The sound of sirens and rending steel, rocked through his brain, before blissful silence swamped him once more. He was floating, somewhere between reality and dream. His vision flickered like the flashing lights, light-dark, light-dark. Red swam before his eyes, his brain filling with images and faces he couldn’t place as a final wave of blackness swept over him dragging him into an ocean of unconsciousness.
David opened his eyes into light. A soft bright glow filling the space around him and his head spun, turning his stomach over in its wake. A soft beeping sound behind him pulled him from the darkness that threatened to drag him down once more, and he clung to it as a lifeline.
“Mr. Watkins?” A sharp voice punched into his brain. “Mr. Watkins can you open your eyes?”
“Hm?” David pushed his lids open again as a stark white room came into focus.
“You need to wake up Mr. Watkins.”
“David, call me David.”
“Can you look into the light,” the voice echoed again.
David squinted as a bright light stabbed behind his eyes. “What happened?”
“You were involved in a hit and run,” This time David was able to follow the voice back to a woman in blue scrubs who was peering at him intently.
“I hit someone?”
“No, based on the witnesses someone ran the light on Big A and took out the whole front of your truck. You’re lucky to be alive.”
David lifted a hand, his whole body crying out in pain. He felt like he had been hit by a Mack truck and perhaps he had been.
“My truck, how bad is it?”
“I wouldn’t know, but as soon as you’re up to it the police would like to talk to you.”
“Fine,” the pounding behind his eyes was growing stronger, and David leaned back against the upright bed closing his eyes against the pain. “I’ll talk to them.”
“Not in your condition,” the woman’s voice echoed again. “I’ll tell them to come back later.”
The soft squeak of rubber soled shoes on tile flooring indicated that the doctor was walking away, but David was fading back into the welcome embrace of sleep. The soft glow of the room lights, flickered into darkness, but the red glare of a police car still reflected in his mind’s eye.
He tried to focus, tried to remember what had happened. He had pulled out as the light turned green, never seeing what hit him. The residual flicker of emergency vehicles bright red glare seemed to have been imprinted on his eye lids, and only the welcome embrace of sleep washed it way.
David’s eyes shot open again, and he sat upright, fighting the growing nausea in his stomach as he looked for his clothes. Where was the clue? Where were the few precious shards he had procured on the mountain only hours ago?
Head still spinning he struggled to focus until he found the call button, pressing it as his head fell back against the bed.
“You should be asleep,” a nurse hurried into the room. “I know doctor Aims gave you something for the pain.”
“Where are my clothes?” David choked, “I need my pants.”
“You are in no condition to go anywhere young man,” the portly woman in the pink and black striped scrubs chided.
“I just need to see them,” David said, his words slurring. “Please!”
“Alright,” the nurse responded. “But they are very dirty.” She handed the mud splattered chinos into his hand and his fingers crushed into the pocket.
“Thank you he said,” as the world turned to black once more. He needed to get this clue somewhere and soon, but first he would close his eyes against the pounding in his head. When the staccato drum beat ended, he would remember what to do.
Chapter 4
A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.
Proverbs 17:17
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” Susan pressed her phone to her ear as she carried coffee and muffins into the old house. “Why are you contacting me about a hit and run?”
“We understand you were the last one to see Mr. Watkins before the accident, and we wanted to touch base and see if you can shed any light on the situation.”
The man’s voice on the other end of the line drawled, as Susan clamped the phone between shoulder and ear, opening the door of her family’s home.
“Are you saying that Mr. Watkins hit another car or something,” Susan was struggling to understand why the police were calling her about the man’s accident.
“No,” the man’s voice was short. “Do you know if Mr. Watkins had been drinking?”
“No, he most certainly was not. He left here, and if the time you told me is right, he hadn’t been gone more than a few minutes before he was in an accident.” A cold shiver raced down her back as she considered the situation. Something wasn’t right here. “Did you find a journal in his truck?”
“As far as I know all of his personal belongings are still in the truck.” A long pause told Susan that something more needed to be said, and she waited, placing the two large lattes on the table and adjusting her phone. “Miss Holmes, do you know of anyone who might want to hurt Mr. Watkins?”
Susan stood staring out
