Driven by W. G. Griffiths Read Free Book Online

barrier that stayed the growing crowd. At his left
     were two ambulances with doors open and lights flashing. He wondered if there were any survivors—someone to make a connection
     back to the driver. He turned toward the water and stopped, his mind unable to take in what lay before him. The bizarre sight
     was eerilyreminiscent of the monster truck spearing the viewing window of the holding tank. With a sweaty hand he tried to swipe what
     felt like icy-cold ants crawling up the back of his neck, then shuddered as the goose bumps continued down his spine.
    As he watched a Marine Patrol boat struggle to bring in the sailboat with its unwelcome cargo, Gavin’s hatred of the driver
     could not keep him from marveling. If the driver had actually been trying to hit the boat while it was in motion… what a
     shot. Was it just dumb luck, or was there actually skill involved? But how could there be skill involved? Even skill requires
     a certain amount of practice. How often could you practice driving your car off a dock into a moving sailboat? It had to be
     dumb luck.
    The crime scene operation was in full swing. Gavin marched up to a uniform cop trying to keep unwanted traffic away.
    “What you got?” he asked, his shield hanging in plain view from his sports jacket pocket.
    The cop motioned toward the marina. “We’re searching the boat slips. If the driver’s still alive and his body didn’t get dragged
     out with the tide, it’s the most likely place he’d be. The boats coming up the boat ramp are also being searched. Crime Scene’s
     waiting at the dock for the Marine Unit to get the boat in. They’ve been having a rough time maneuvering that thing. Guess
     that’s why you don’t see too many sailboat car ferries. They tried pushin’ it, then pullin’ it, and now they’re tryin’ to
     tie up side by side and get it to the ramp dock.”
    Gavin looked at the floating ramp next to the boat ramp. On it were a team of forensic techs and print specialists watching
     the awkward rig being slowly brought to them.
    “Their hopes of an undisturbed scene is shot to blazes on this one,” the cop said.
    “Anyone see the driver?” Gavin asked.
    “Don’t know yet. Maybe she did,” the cop said, motioning to astretcher being rushed up the boat ramp. “The patrol boat pulled her out first thing.”
    As the stretcher passed by, the uniform cop told Gavin the identity of the girl on the gurney was still unknown. She had apparently
     been thrown and was found unconscious. Her body was badly scratched and bruised and her head was strapped into place on the
     gurney. Her bruised and swollen face couldn’t hide her Asian heritage. Gavin’s eyes followed her to the ambulance. He hoped
     she made it. Maybe she could shed some light on who this maniac was. Any information from her would have to wait, though.
     As soon as the van’s doors closed the ambulance sped out of the parking lot, lights flashing and siren wailing.
    “Any other survivors?”
    The cop closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not good news. The man at the helm lost his head.”
    “Literally?”
    The cop nodded. “Yup, his neck was crushed by the bumper. The head’s still missing. The girl in the car is dead, too. She
     might’ve survived if she’d been wearing her seat belt. They found it unbuckled and under her armpit. Looks as though she was
     trying to put it on.”
    Gavin frowned and looked in the direction of the wreck. “Or release it.”
    The cop’s eyebrows raised. “Suicide?”
    Gavin didn’t answer. He wasn’t thinking suicide. “Any ID?”
    “I don’t know. There was a handbag on the floor under a pile of beer cans, but we didn’t disturb it. Oh, there’s something
     else. On the beach there’s a guy in some kind of homemade seaplane. He saw the crash from the air but, like everyone else,
     didn’t see the driver leave. We’ve asked him to wait until the boats get out first; seems it takes him a while to break down
     his