Alex shoved Annabelle to the floorboard and then he ducked down.

Reuben slid open the window, took aim and fired behind them. Alex and Harry did the same from the other side.

Caleb hit a straightaway and pushed the van to its max.

“Eighty is all the juice this shit-can has,” he barked. “Next time give me a decent ride if you want me to outrun the suckers. I can’t make tomato sauce without tomatoes, for godsakes!”

Confused, Alex eyed Harry and then looked down at Annabelle.

She said wearily, “You don’t want to know.”

Over the next five minutes Caleb took hairpin turns barely on four wheels, cut down this road and that, and ran around one curve where the van’s left-side tires were nearly kissing air over a vertical drop. He finally slowed.

“No lights back there for the last two minutes,” he said. “Where to now?”

“The farm,” answered Alex. “Fast, but without killing us, please.”

Keeping alert, they made their way slowly back and drove through downtown Divine. When they reached the other side they saw the red rooftop lights of the cop car that was parked on the side of the road near a long drop-off. Other vehicles, including a fire truck, were parked next to it. Men were milling about, and a fire hose extended down the slope.

Annabelle said, “Stop, Caleb. That’s Sheriff Tyree.”

Caleb pulled off the road and Annabelle climbed out of the van and hurried over to Tyree, who was standing there, hands in his pockets and seemingly studying his boots with little interest.

“Sheriff, what happened?”

He glanced at her and scowled. “What are you doing around here this time of night?”

“Still looking for my dad.” She stared down the steep slope where she could see smoke rising and some men tethered to ropes looking over the remains of a car. Then she noticed where the dirt shoulder had been torn up. “An accident?”

He nodded. “Shirley Coombs, or what’s left of her.”

Annabelle gave a sharp intake of breath.

He eyed her sternly. “What?”

“I was talking to her not more than an hour ago.”

“Where?”

“At her son’s trailer, or what’s left of it.”

“What were you doing there?”

“I was driving by and heard somebody sobbing. It was Shirley. I was trying to comfort her.”

“Had she been drinking?”

Annabelle hesitated but then said, “Yes.”

“Damn fool woman ran off the road.”

Annabelle looked around and saw the tire marks and then a bit of gray metal lying on the road under the glare of lights. She bent down to pick it up.

“Don’t touch that!” snapped Tyree.

She stood quickly. “But Shirley’s car was red.”

Tyree grabbed her by the arm and hustled her away from the accident scene and across the road while several of the men looked on curiously.