Scar Tissue Read Online Free Page B

nodded. “I’ve opposed him a few times.”
    â€œHe’s a good prosecutor.”
    â€œYes,” I said. “A worthy adversary.”
    Sprague smiled. “So how can I help you, Mr. Coyne?”
    â€œI’ve just come from visiting with Jake and Sharon Gold. You knew Brian?”
    â€œSure. I know everyone in Reddington. It’s a small town.”

    â€œYou coached Brian’s soccer team, huh?”
    Sprague shrugged. “I’m not married myself. I like kids.”
    â€œThe accident last night …”
    â€œBad one,” he said with a quick shake of his head. “Real bad. I was there all night and all morning.” He stared out the window. “It makes you want to cry. For those kids, for their parents, for all of us. Just another goddamn senseless thing, Mr. Coyne. Teenagers, automobiles, alcohol. I visit the schools every spring around prom time, preaching the same old sermon. I go to driver’s ed classes with my statistics and slide shows and horror stories. Reddington’s a small town. There were less than a hundred kids in last year’s graduating class. But you know what?” He peered at me through his schoolteacher glasses.
    I nodded.
    â€œHardly a year goes by,” he said, “that we don’t have something like last night. If not here, in one of the nearby towns. If I had my way, we’d change the legal driving age to eighteen, and we’d lock up any grownup who lets kids into their booze cabinet. It’s worse than guns, if you ask me. It’s killing our kids.”
    â€œJake didn’t mention that the kids had been drinking.”
    â€œThey’re always drinking,” he said.
    â€œBut do you—?”
    â€œNo,” he said. “No evidence of it. Maybe they weren’t. What difference would it make?” Sprague stole a glance at his wristwatch.
    â€œI know you’re busy,” I said. “But I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind.”
    He looked up at me. “Why? You contemplating a lawsuit?”
    I wasn’t, but the lawyer in me kicked in before I could tell him the truth. So I shrugged and smiled in a way that was intended to tell him: Sure. Of course I’m contemplating a lawsuit. I’m a lawyer, aren’t I? But I have way too much class to come right out and say it.

    He smiled and nodded, and I guessed he saw through me. “How can I help?”
    â€œHow do you account for the accident?” I said. “Aside from the possibility of booze, I mean.”
    â€œHigh speed, narrow road, inexperienced driver? Who knows? Nobody saw it. The reconstruction guys’ll probably be able to make some sense of it.”
    â€œThe girl—”
    â€œJenny,” he said. “Jenny was her name. A sweet kid. She drowned, strapped in there behind the wheel. Tom and Emily—her parents—they’re in shock, as you can imagine.”
    â€œWhat about Brian?”
    He flapped his hands. “The car went through the guardrail and rolled over. It’s a steep bank, all rocky riprap. Landed upside down in about ten feet of water. Hitting those rocks must’ve sprung the door. Looks like Brian wasn’t wearing his seat belt. Probably got thrown out and hit the water unconscious. Or maybe he was dead already. The state cops had their scuba team here before sunrise, but no luck.”
    â€œSo what happens next?”
    â€œThey’re going to get some boats here to break up the ice downstream.” He pressed his lips together. “We’ll find him, Mr. Coyne.”
    â€œSomething’s bothering me here,” I said.
    He arched his eyebrows.
    â€œWhy is everybody so sure Brian was in that car?”
    Sprague shrugged. “Where else would he be? Both sets of parents said they left together. Friday-night date.”
    â€œAny chance he might’ve survived?”
    Sprague looked at me. “So where is he,