Following the map app on her phone, Alex headed straight for the police’s car impound. Looking it up online, she found the public had access to vehicles during business hours. It was starting to get late, so she needed to hurry. Andrew’s time in the court could happen any minute.

Parking outside what looked like a mobile home, Alex checked the address again. “You have reached your destination” came from her phone. Glancing around, she saw a chain-link fence with a massive chain and lock, plus barbed wire across the top.

Paper bag in hand, Alex climbed the wood steps to the small building’s door, not knowing where else to go if this wasn’t the office.

After knocking, she stuck her head in. “Hello?” she said.

A big man stood from a desk and made his way toward her. “Hey, there, miss. What can I do you for?”

She stepped inside and shook the man’s hand. Her fingers disappeared in his. She guessed someone who had to work with the armpit of society needed to be strong enough to handle anyone walking through the door or going over the fence, if that was possible.

“I’d like to see a Suburban that was brought in the other day. License plate AROB.”

“Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said, pulling out a huge three-ring binder. “AROB, you say.” He hummed while flipping pages. “Sorta sounds like that baseball player ARod.”

She smiled and nodded. She’d thought something like that also.

“Ah, here we go.” He turned toward a back door. “Follow me, little lady.”

Alex grabbed the paper bag and hurried after him. Standing outside the back of the trailer, she didn’t know what she expected but a sea with every car ever made for the last one hundred years wasn’t it. It reminded her of the scene of an endless warehouse filled with boxes at the end of an Indiana Jones movie.

When her guide turned down a row, she stayed close behind or would be forever lost amongst Hondas, Pintos, and Cadillacs.

“Here ya go,” he said.

Alex studied the SUV to make sure nothing funny had been done to it. She laughed at herself. It wasn’t like she was in a crime movie with drug dealers or bad cops trying to frame her. She really needed to cancel Netflix and spend more time in nature.

From the paper bag, she pulled out the weathered headlight cover and positioned it over the cavity with only a bulb. It fit perfectly with the remaining pieces. She snapped pictures on her phone and stepped back.

“Would you by chance have a new Tahoe anywhere?” She couldn’t imagine he didn’t with the massive collection.

“Let me see.” The large man climbed on top of a Jeep riddled with bullet holes. Just seeing the vehicle gave her chills. “Yeah, gotcha one over here.”

“Over here” was a mile walk through maze hell. When reaching the vehicle, she pulled the other casing from her bag. Holding it next to the truck, she noted it was an exact replica in form and design. After taking a few more photos, she thanked the man and he walked her to her car.

Sitting behind the wheel, she watched the man squeeze through the office entrance and wondered what to do next. She’d confirmed in her mind that a Tahoe driven by Ted Ortiz ran Jen off the road, not a Suburban.

But what good did that do Andrew? As Detective Hudson had said, nothing but a confession would keep her man out of jail. Well, if a confession he wanted, then a woman has to do what a woman has to do.

After getting Ted’s home phone number from operator assistance, she called him. Butterflies stormed in her stomach. Ted was weird, but he didn’t seem dangerous as long as she wasn’t in a car with him behind her.

The other end of the line picked up. “What?”

Alex wasn’t prepared for the abrupt answer. She stumbled over her words. “Ted?”

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Alexandra Berte. I met you at your wife’s memorial service.”

“Oh, right.” His voice had turned sweet. “What do I owe for the honor of your call, Miss Berte?” She heard the smile in his voice.

“I rethought about your invite to get together again,” she replied, hoping this wasn’t a mistake. But she had little choice. If she didn’t get him to confess, it was possible she wouldn’t see Andrew for a long time.

“Really?” His disbelief was so real sounding, she almost laughed. “Would you like to come to my place?”

She forced “I’d love to” from her mouth. He gave her his address and she promised to be there in twenty minutes. From the first liquor store she saw, she bought the biggest bottle of whiskey they had. Didn’t hurt that it was Jack Daniels.

Thinking about Andrew, she wanted to call him, but didn’t want to bother him in case he was in the courtroom. It was getting late and he should be going in at any time.

Instead, she emailed the headlight pictures from her phone to Detective Hudson then called him. She got his voicemail and left a message that she was getting the confession he needed.

Following the directions on her phone to Ted’s, she passed the funeral home from earlier in the day. That felt like days ago, not hours. Then she passed the bar and grill and stopped at the light where the car rental place stood.

A thought occurred to her and she circled the block, checking out the vehicles in the fenced-in lot behind the front office. Toward the back, a black SUV sat away from the others. She’d bet dollars to donuts that was the Tahoe.

Finding a parking space down the street, she parallel-parked and followed the sidewalk to the fence. She’d take a couple photos of the Tahoe and send those to Hudson so he knew she wasn’t loony.

Unfortunately, from her angle on the sidewalk, she couldn’t see over the cars to the lower portion of the Tahoe. She needed to be higher. Looking around and not seeing anyone, she stuck her foot into a hole in the chain link and boosted herself up.

With phone in one palm, she could only hold on with the other hand. As soon as she was in the air, her weight shifted, and her body rotated around, twisting her ankle lodged in the fence. Lowering to the ground, she cussed gravity and tried again, this time jamming her foot farther into the fence and leaning forward.

Lifting the phone, she was able to get an angle over the cars between her and the SUV. From the ground in front of her came a deep growl. And it started to rain. The storms she seen earlier up north had arrived. Along with a menacing dog.

“Good, puppy,” she said, letting herself down slowly. The dog was inside the fence, so she didn’t give it much thought until she tried to pull her foot out of the diamond hole in the fence and it didn’t move. She yanked, bending the metal barrier away from the posts.

Hopping on one foot, she clung to the fence to keep from falling on her ass. The dog leapt forward, biting the end of her shoe. With new-found adrenaline, she jerked her leg back, foot slipping from the shoe.

Quietly yelling at the dog, she pulled on her shoe and smacked the fence, hoping to get the animal to go away. The dog thrashed its body and head side to side, yanking the shoe closer to its side. Alex dropped her phone and grabbed on with both hands.

She poked her fingers through the links, trying to bop its nose to let go. Sewn stitches started popping. The shoe was almost a loss. Her hair and makeup had to be a mess from the exertion.

At her wit’s end, she picked up a pebble and threw it. The canine took off chasing and she wiggled her shoe out, a hole where her big toe stuck out.

Exasperated and wet, she fell into the driver’s seat of her car and slammed the door closed. Maybe this was bad idea. She was ready to turn around and head home then an image of Andrew in a bright orange jumpsuit, hands and feet shackled, came to mind.

Her heart squeezed with pain, knowing this whole mess started with her. If she would’ve kept her eyeballs to herself, then she would’ve never met Andrew or tipped his on-the-edge secretary over the top, forcing her to come after them with a gun.

No. She couldn’t take the blame for someone else’s actions. Jen could’ve selected to go back to her husband before showing up at the cabin, but she didn’t.

A few more blocks and she was at the street with Ted’s home. Before turning at the stop sign, she turned off her phone’s ringer and vibration, then brought up the voice recording app. With it open and running, she slipped her phone into her back pocket with the microphone end sticking out.

This had to work, or Andrew was done for.

As she pulled into his driveway, the garage door opened. He waved her in to park next to his car. How thoughtful of him to let her come in out of the rain. She’d dreaded walking up to the front door and waiting for him answer the door all the while she dripped.

Then she remembered the detective saying the neighbors saw his car parked in the driveway all night. What if he normally parked inside the garage like most with garages do? Could he have left his car outside just so others would think he was home? She shook her head. Now she was seeing “clues” everywhere she went. Before long, she’d be completely making up things.

Ted stood at the back of the garage. His smile was genuine and warm. He wasn’t a bad looking guy. She could see what had attracted Jen to him. When she stepped out of the car, he frowned and pushed the automatic door closer.

“Let me get you a towel. Come on in.” He disappeared into the home.

Why did the garage door closing feel like being trapped in a coffin with a blood sucking monster?