The Liar

“You followed her home?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t going to have her driving around after dark with what happened.”

“Um-hm.” Forrest set up flares; Griff closed his eyes again.

“I think the truck’s totaled, or nearly. I’ve only had it three years. I’ve put a lot of miles on it, sure, but it had plenty more in it.”

“We’ll have my granddaddy take a look once it’s towed in. You’re lucid,” Forrest added as he walked over with the first aid kit. “You haven’t puked yet.”

“I’m not going to puke.”

“If that changes, aim away from me. How’s the vision?”

“It wavered some at first. Steady now. Ow, fuck!”

“Don’t be a pussy,” Forrest said mildly, and continued to clean the laceration with an alcohol swab.

“You’d be a pussy, too, if I was being sadistic Nurse Sally.”

“I can’t see how bad it is until it’s cleaned up some. Nurse Emma Kate’s on her way.”

“What? No. Why?”

“Because if she says you’re going to the ER in Gatlinburg, that’s where you’re going. And since I have to deal with this mess you’re in, she and Matt can haul you there.”

“You called them.”

“I did. I’ll call for the tow after I have a look at what’s what myself. Anything else you can tell me about the truck?”

“Other than whoever was driving it was—is—a lunatic?”

“You didn’t see the lunatic, at all?”

“An impression—I’d say a guy—but I was pretty busy trying not to end up like I ended up. Or worse.” Griff said nothing for a moment, studied his friend as Forrest fixed a couple butterfly bandages along the gash. “You know who it is, from what I gave you already.”

“I’ve got an impression. That’s for me to deal with, Griff.”

“The hell it is. It’s my truck, my head.”

“My job. I expect that’s Matt and Emma Kate coming now. You piss anybody off lately?”

“You’re the closest I’ve come to pissing anyone off lately, since I’m sleeping with your sister.”

Forrest stopped what he was doing, eyes sharply narrowed. “Is that so?”

“I figure it’s a good time to let you know since you’re being all official and I’m already bleeding. I’m crazy about her. Flat-out.”

“It’s a fast leap from nice to meet you to crazy about.”

“She’s a lightning bolt.” Griff stabbed a thumb at his own heart. “Bam.”

Before Forrest could speak again, Emma Kate was running from the car, a medical bag in her hand. “What happened? Let me look at you.”

She pulled out a penlight, shined it. “Follow the light with your eyes.”

“I’m okay.”

“Shut up. Tell me your full name and today’s date.”

“Franklin Delano Roosevelt. December seven, 1941. A day that’ll live in infamy.”

“Smart-ass. How many fingers?”

“Eleven minus nine. I’m okay, Emma Kate.”

“I’ll tell you if you’re okay after I go over you in an exam room at the clinic.”

“I don’t need—”

“Shut up,” she said again, then hugged him. “Nothing against your triage, Forrest, but I’m going to take those bandages off at the clinic, get a look at that cut myself. It might need stitches.”

“Nuh-uh,” Griff said.

Matt stood, hands on hips, studying the truck. “Fucker trashed your ride, man. Forrest just said somebody ran you off the road. Who was it?”

“Ask Forrest. I think he knows from what I saw of the other truck.”

“I’ll be looking into it. For now, take him on into the clinic, look him over. I’ll have it towed to my granddaddy’s shop. You can come get what you need from it in the morning.”

“My tools—”

“Are still going to be there in the morning. I need to call this in, but I’ve got your statement clear enough, and I’ll call you if I need anything else. Nothing for you to do here, Griff, but be pissed off.”

He argued but, outnumbered, ended up dragged to Matt’s truck.

“He knows who did it and won’t say.” Bitterness coated Griff’s throat.

“Because he knows you might be an easy guy most of the time, in this case you’d go straight for the ass-kicking.” Matt shook his head. “Wouldn’t blame you. But you’re banged up already—disadvantage—and it’ll be almost as satisfying if whoever did this spends time in a cell.”

“He could spend time in a cell after I kick his ass.”

“It was deliberate?” Emma Kate asked. “You’re sure?”

“Oh, hell yeah.”

“What were you doing on that road?”

“Coming back from seeing Shelby got home.” Griff suddenly sat straight up. “Heading back from Shelby’s house, and the other truck pulled up behind me—not long after I started back home. Because he was either sitting on her house or mine. Either sitting on hers or followed us from mine, waited his chance.”

“You’re thinking they came after you because they couldn’t get to her?” Matt said.

“I’m thinking whoever did it isn’t just a lunatic. I’m thinking worse. A lot worse.”

18

Shelby started out the morning singing in the shower. She felt the spring to her step and didn’t care who saw it or guessed the reason why.

She got dressed, helped Callie dress.

“You get to go to Granny’s today.”

“To Granny’s house?”

“That’s right. It’s her day off, and she asked especially if you’d come over and stay with her. Won’t that be fun?”

“Granny has cookies, and Bear.”

Bear was the big yellow dog who’d race and play with a little girl all day—and sleep in the sun when nobody was around to play with.