Saved By The Sheriff

Chapter Five

“All units report to Fireline Road for a vehicular accident with possible injuries.” The dispatcher’s voice sounded clear on the otherwise quiet radio. Travis, on his way to lunch, hit the button to respond. “Unit one headed to Fireline Road,” he said. He switched on his siren and headed out, falling in behind Gage, an ambulance bringing up the rear of their little parade.

As he drove, he checked the GPS location the dispatcher had sent over. The accident looked to have occurred about two miles this side of the storage units, an area with a sharp curve and a steep drop-off. He slowed as the screen on his dash indicated they were nearing the site. Gage pulled to the side of the road and Travis parked behind him. He joined his brother on the rough shoulder, and stared down at a white Subaru Outback, resting on its side on the steep slope, wedged against a solitary lodgepole pine tree.

Gage raised binoculars to his eyes. “Looks like there’s at least one person in there—maybe two,” he said.

Two EMTs joined them—a freckle-faced young guy Travis didn’t know, and Emmet Baxter, a rescue service veteran. “OnStar called it in,” Baxter said, nodding to the wrecked Subaru. “They tried to contact the driver but no one responded. Since the airbags had deployed, it triggered an automatic call.”

“I’ll call in the plate,” Gage said. “See if we can get a possible ID on the driver.”

“Go ahead, but I know who it is,” Travis said, the tightness in his chest making it difficult to take a full breath. “That’s Brenda Stenson’s car. And the passenger is probably Lacy Milligan. The two of them were supposed to drive out here to pick up some of Andy Stenson’s files from storage.” He pulled out his phone and punched in Brenda’s number. It rang five times before going to voice mail. He got the same results with Lacy’s number. He swore and stuffed the phone back in the case on his hip, then stepped down off the edge of the road.

Gage grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going down to them. They could be hurt.”

“Yeah, and one wrong move could send the vehicle the rest of the way down the slope and you with it,” Gage said.

Travis studied the car and realized Gage was right. “Get Search and Rescue out here. And a wrecker. We’ll have to stabilize the car, then get the women out.”

Gage made the call and then there was nothing to do but wait. Travis walked the roadside, studying the surface for clues to what had happened. Soon, Gage joined him. “You can see the skid marks where they went off here,” Travis said, pointing to the long tracks in the gravel.

“Doesn’t really look like an overcorrection, or like she was going too fast and missed the curve,” Gage said.

Travis shook his head. “Brenda’s not that kind of driver. Anyway, look at this.” He pointed to another set of skid marks behind the first, these veering away from the edge of the road.

“Another vehicle?” Gage asked.

“Yeah.” Travis walked a little farther and squatted down at a place where broken glass glittered amid the gravel in the road. “This is probably where it struck her car—broke the rear headlights.” He glanced back as the first of the Search and Rescue team arrived.

“Accident or deliberate?” Gage asked.

“They left the scene. That’s a crime, even if the collision itself was an accident. But this feels deliberate to me. The weather’s good, light’s good. No way a person traveling behind Brenda’s car wouldn’t have seen her.”

“Maybe the other driver’s brakes failed?”

Travis straightened. “How often does that really happen?”

He and Gage walked back to meet the SAR volunteers. Travis was relieved to see an orthopedic doctor who worked weekends at the emergency clinic in Gunnison, as well as a local mountain guide, Jacob Zander. “You remember Dr. Pete, right?” Jacob said.

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