A man had just died, just killed himself, and since Tessa had covered her eyes and the college kid had bolted, it looked like I was the only one who’d seen what happened. I knew the police would need my statement, so, as badly as I wanted to, I couldn’t leave the scene quite yet. On the other hand, I didn’t want Tessa anywhere near here. I definitely needed to get her back to the hotel.
Just relax and think for a minute, Pat. Think.
I looked up and saw that the windshield was spider-webbed with cracks and spotted with crimson. Beyond John Doe’s blood spatter, I could see that a crowd was already forming along the edge of the tracks, staring down. Pointing. On the other side of the tracks two men trudged past the onlookers. I couldn’t see their faces, but one walked with the measured steps of an older man, and the bigger, younger guy was carrying a large black duffel bag.
The man in the Mustang had swiveled around the block and was picking them up.
“Well?” Tessa said.
“I won’t be able to leave for a little while,” I said. “Let me see if I can find someone who can take you back to the hotel.”