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In some ways, itwas all starting to fall into place. Jack Morrison’s engineering skills, his obviousdislike of Westford-Myer. In others… this was all about the emotion. And withthat note? He had to have gone back to the site, to the place where it had allstarted. It was the place that made the most sense.
“We need to getthere,” Amber said, already grabbing her coat and heading to the door.
“I’ll call forbackup,” Francesca said, following her.
Simon was rightbehind them. “Let’s hope we’re not too late.”
As Amber, Simon,and Francesca left the bungalow and climbed into Francesca’s car, Amber’s mindraced. They were getting closer to finding Jack Morrison, but what would happenwhen they did?
Until she’dstarted to think about the note, Amber had assumed that he was the killer.Maybe he still was. Maybe that was what he was saying sorry for. If so, wouldhe give himself up peacefully, or would there be a confrontation? But what ifher other thought was right? What if the note wasn’t a confession?
“Do we have alocation for the crash?” Amber said.
“There will be onein the depositions for the case,” Simon said.
Amber pulled themup on her phone, looking through them, trying to find an exact locationsomewhere in the text. She spotted it, holding it up so that Francesca couldsee it in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve got it,”Francesca said, nodding sharply. “It’s about a twenty-minute drive from herenormally.”
Amber thoughtabout the note again, and about what it might mean. “I’m not sure if we havethat much time.”
“I can get usthere faster,” Francesca assured them, turning on the lights and siren.
The drive to thecrash site was tense, with Francesca driving quickly, taking corners at top speed,the houses outside flashing past almost in a blur. Cars moved out of the way asbest they could in front of her, but even so, she often had to weave around them.It was clear that she had no intention of taking her foot off the gas.
They sped out ofWestford, out along the highway, into an area where trees lined the sides ofthe road, making it hard to see much of the world beyond. The road twisted andturned, seemingly at random, most of the bends blind, with no clue as towhether there was traffic coming the other way. Amber tried to push down herterror, hoping that Francesca would be able to keep them on the road even asthey raced to get to the right spot.
There were ditcheson either side of the highway, deep and partly filled with water. Amber couldn’thelp thinking about how dangerous it all was. If Francesca got anything wrong,or even if a tire blew out at random, they might all be killed.
It was easy to seehow dangerous faulty brakes might be on a road like this, and that was not agood thought to have right then, when they were still driving so fast.
As they sped downthe highway, Amber found her thoughts drifting. She couldn’t help but think aboutJoseph for a few moments. About the fact that she hadn’t heard from him sinceshe left. Was he okay? What was he doing? Thoughts of reporters earlier hadmade her think of him, and now it was hard to ignore those thoughts, howevermuch she needed to focus on the current situation.
The closer theygot to the crash site, the more Amber’s anxiety grew, and she once again putJoseph out of her mind.
“It should be justahead,” Francesca said, slowing and switching off the siren, presumably so asnot to spook Morrison. Amber braced herself for what she might see there.
“This is the spotwhere they went off,” Francesca said. “As near as I can get, anyway. The carwould have been found somewhere back through the trees.”
They got out,checking the area for any sign of Jack Morrison. Almost as soon as she got outof the car, Amber could see that her hunch about the location had been right.Someone had been here, and recently. There were fresh tire tracks leading awayfrom the road and into the woods. Amber had no way of knowing if they were JackMorrison’s, but right now, she had to believe that they might be.
“Let’s go,” shesaid, leaving the car behind and gesturing to the others to follow her as sheset off in the direction indicated by the tire tracks. Simon and Francescahurried along with her, the three of them moving almost at a run.
They waded throughthe thick underbrush, following the tracks deeper into the woods. Amber’s heartwas pounding in her chest as they got closer and closer to their target.
Then Amber sawsomething ahead and she froze in place for a moment, unable to do anythingother than simply stare.
A damaged treestood ahead, still solid looking, but with a part of its trunk shattered as ifsomething had gone into it at top speed in the past and the remainder hadsimply continued to grow around the wound. Its branches spread out, and fromone of those branches…
“No!” Amber criedas she saw the form of a man hanging from a rope attached to one of thebranches. Simon and Francesca looked up at the same time, and Amber could seethe horror on their faces. They rushed forward, determined to get there asquickly as possible.
Amber recognizedthe man from the photographs she’d seen as she ran forward. It was JackMorrison. For an instant, she thought he was dead, but then she saw him kickingwildly at the air and felt a surge of hope. He must have only just stepped offinto thin air, must have only just started to hang himself. Jack Morrison wasstill alive.
Amber’s heartraced with adrenaline and fearas she reached the tree where Morrison washanging. She could see that he was still struggling, his face dark purple withthe effort.
Simon andFrancesca were there then, wrapping their arms around Morrison’s legs as theylifted him up and tried to relieve the pressure on his neck. Amber knew thatwould only work for a short time, though, now that the noose was tight. Theyhad to get him down from there.
“Amber, my belt, Ihave a knife,” Francesca called out.
