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shook her head. “I guess I should go look at the car today.”
    “Whoa.” Linc wasn’t so sure that was a good idea. Not just yet. “You don’t have to inspect it. Let the insurance adjuster do that.”
    “He will anyway. I want to see it for myself,” she insisted.
    Linc knew better than to argue with her. “Then I’ll go with you when you’re ready.”
    “After I drink this.”
    “Kenzie, you haven’t had any sleep.”
    “I don’t care.”
     
    The impound lot was a depressing place. The wrecks were in a separate area from cars that had been towed for other violations, and they were the only non-uniformed visitors in it. There was an inescapable smell—part metallic, part scorched plastic—that made him feel sick to his stomach. He had to wonder how many people had crawled out alive from the twisted frames and shattered windows.
    In the opposite space, about fifty feet away, Linc glimpsed a man who seemed somehow familiar. Not a friend. Then he remembered the TV reporter’s face. He picked up on the guy’s surly remarks to an impound clerk. Seemed that the reporter’s car had been towed from the scene of the accident and the nosy bastard was out several hundred in fees. Tough luck.
    Kenzie was silent as they walked, concentrating on finding her car. She finally spotted it in a corner and headed that way. It was right side up now, but crumpled, the roof caved in and the windows reduced to pebbled fragments. He guessed at a glance that the steel side frames had been strong enough to keep Christine from being crushed, but they too were bent.
    Kenzie walked around it, studying the wreck from several angles. Linc let her think, looking at her more than the car.
    There was a fierceness in her beautiful eyes that he’d never seen. Then her mouth tightened into a frown that tensed her fine jawline.
    “That’s a sideswipe,” she said, pointing to a deep, irregular dent that ran the length of the driver’s side of the car.
    “Could be.”
    She shot him an angry look. “Think I’m wrong?”
    He held up both hands in a peacemaking gesture. “I didn’t say that.”
    “I have a feeling this was a hit-and-run,” she said with low fury. “A drunk driver, or maybe some kid who just got his license. Someone who had a reason to drive off.”
    “What did the cops say?”
    Kenzie shrugged. “Nothing about that. I didn’t speak to any of them directly. They left several messages about the wrecked car. The last one gave the location of this place.”
    “So there is no investigation—” He broke off, feeling the impact of her glare. “I mean, no investigation yet,” he finished.
    “Not as far as I know,” she snapped.
    Linc looked at the car again. The damage was so extensive it was hard to make out anything definite. A utility pole could have made that long dent in the side if Christine had lost control and careened against it at high speed. That was a reasonable guess. There would be others. He knew zip about accident forensics.
    “Kenzie, it’s been less than twenty-four hours,” he said. “Give it time. Let the experts figure it out.”
    “Oh, yes. The experts. They know everything. I’m just a girl,” she said mockingly.
    “Take it easy, Kenzie. I’m on your side. All the way.” He kept his tone as calm as possible. She was beyond exhausted at this point. He intended to get her home and see that she got some sleep. If she let loose with a few jabs at him, so what? He had a thick hide.
    She turned her back to him, walking away from the car as if she’d seen enough. Linc followed a few steps behind. Her body language conveyed a clear message. Hands off.
    The clerk was talking to some cops about departmental business and didn’t see them go.
    Kenzie reached his truck and got in before he could open the door for her, slamming it hard. He went around to his side and slid in, glancing at her profile. Her features were composed, but he sensed that she was ready to blow from a volatile mix of