Deb Baker - Ding Dong Dead

Caroline is bloody, but other than superficial wounds, most of the blood is from others. She doesn’t have time to think of herself. She reacts instinctively, offering comfort and reassurances to the other victims.

By the time Matt Albright arrives, those involved in the five-car accident have been extricated and transported to the hospital. One woman is already at the morgue after having been pronounced dead at the scene. Caroline watches Matt scan the wreckage before his eyes find her. She is sitting on the curb next to her car, which is upside down. The windows are blown out. A cop sweeps up the last shards of auto glass.

Emergency vehicles are still on the scene, although the ambulances are gone. Several tow trucks idle while the drivers load crumpled cars onto flatbeds.

“Are you okay?” Matt squats beside her, his dark eyes penetrating her own.

“Other than a sore neck, yes.”

“Let’s have you checked out.” He rises and stops the officer in charge, who has chosen this moment to walk past them. “Why wasn’t she transported? Get an ambulance. Now!”

“I refused,” she says. “It isn’t his fault. Others needed it more than I did.”

Matt doesn’t respond, although she can tell that he is upset. Instead, he confers with the officer.

“One dead,” the cop says. “The rest? Multiple injuries, a crushed pelvis, head wounds, et cetera.”

“Any kids?” Matt asks.

Caroline hates when children are involved in accidents and sees Matt’s relief when the officer shakes his head. No kids.

“This is what’s left of the vehicle that started the chain reaction.” They stare at Caroline’s car. Matt crouches and ducks his head to peer inside. A few items are on the roof of the car, which is now the floor.

Until this moment, Caroline has been too busy helping others to consider her own situation. She begins to tremble slightly.

“I’ll put your personal belongings in my car,” Matt says. “Once your car is towed away, retrieving contents will be more difficult.”

Caroline nods.

“Plenty of witnesses to the accident,” the officer says while waving one of the tow trucks through. “According to them a white van sideswiped the vehicle, this woman lost control, jumped the median, ended up in oncoming traffic, going the wrong way. Nobody coming at her is paying enough attention, talking on their cell phones, et cetera. So they pile up, one after the other. She manages to roll the car-sorry, lady, but don’t even ask me how-and it spins over this way, taking out the Mini Cooper.” His arms are flying back and forth across the lanes of traffic, which have been reopened. Cars are passing slowly by, passengers gawking at them, trying to get a grasp on the events that led to this chaos.

“Where’s the van?” Matt asks, surveying the lane closest to the curb, the lane still closed off to traffic.

“Hit and run.” The officer has seen this before. Caroline can hear it in his voice. Witnesses got the plates, and we’re tracking it down.” He moves off.

Matt sits down on the curb. “Your family,” he says, “is like a pride of cats, nine lives for each of you. How many have you used up so far?”

“Probably all of them.”

Before he can respond, a truck goes past with what’s left of the Mini Cooper. The car looks like shredded scrap metal.

“Look over there,” Matt says.

Caroline’s eyes sweep over the spectators. She sees a group on the other side of Camelback Road. Shoppers have parked in a shopping mall on her side and have wandered over to observe the final cleanup, ask around, find out what they missed. Matt is pointing out a few homeless individuals standing off by themselves.

“Nacho and Daisy aren’t with them,” he says. “Your two street friends are living just like the rest of those tortured souls who subsist on the fringes.”

Caroline takes time to really study the man sitting beside her. He is more complex than she once thought. Matt has allowed her a brief glimpse inside himself.

He smiles. “Anybody who matters to Gretchen matters to me. Now I’m committed to keeping them safe, if I can.”

“Nacho was here earlier,” Caroline says. “He checked to make sure I wasn’t hurt, but then he disappeared. He’s a difficult person for me to get to know.”

“And Daisy isn’t?”

Caroline smiles.

They sit in silence after that.

A man wearing gray overalls joins the indigents, but he doesn’t really fit with them, although they seem to accept him. His clothes are clean, and he’s not wearing layers and layers of them; he’s trimmed up, good haircut, shaven. He doesn’t stay more than a minute or two, probably asking what happened.

The street people always know, if you can get them to talk. They have a remarkable communication system, if she could only figure it out.

She takes another look at her car.

The officer in charge finishes another task and comes over to study the car, too. “She crawled out the busted-out window,” he says to Matt as though she isn’t there. “Had a little trouble getting the seat belt off, sitting upside down, et cetera, but she did it. Ended up helping some of the others.”

“Did she now?” Matt smiles at Caroline again.

“That’s one tough cookie.” He walks away.

“Et cetera,” Matt says.

Caroline should contact Gretchen, make sure she learns of the accident in a gentle manner. The death of her father is bound to make the news of this accident more frightening. Bring back memories best forgotten.

“I’m not going to make a big deal of my part in the accident,” she says to Matt.

“It was a big deal.”

“I mean when I tell Gretchen what happened. I wish I didn’t have to tell her at all, but she’ll notice the missing car.” Caroline adds a hint of playfulness to her voice, practicing lightness for when she talks to her daughter. “Please don’t say anything to her. Once she comes home and sees that I’m not hurt, it’ll be easier for me to relate the facts as they really happened. I don’t want her having bad memories of the accident she had with her father without my being there to comfort her.”

“I’m not going to lie to Gretchen,” he says.

“Then disappear for the rest of the day,” Caroline says, and there is an edge to her voice. “Don’t communicate with her.”

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m alive, which is more than can be said for that other woman.”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I will, thanks.”

“We’re looking for the van.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it, but the driver has had plenty of time to disappear.”

“You think it was intentional?”

“You want to know if I think someone was trying to kill me? I choose to believe it was an accidental collision. You’ll tell me if you learn otherwise, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll give you a lift in a few minutes.”

Matt goes off to talk with a witness, then walks down the block to study the path of Caroline’s car. Later, while driving her home, he gets a call.

“A stolen white van has been found abandoned on the other side of the city,” he informs her.

“Don’t tell Gretchen, at least not yet. I’ll be careful. Let you know if anything unusual happens.”

“You mean like another hit-and-run?”

“You are a sassy boy.”

“And you’re just like your daughter.”

While she listens, he calls and orders an officer to patrol her street.

“To keep an eye on the house,” he explains to her. “Just in case.”

April’s white Lincoln was parked on the street outside of the cemetery entrance. Gretchen pulled up behind her, got out, and walked up to the car.