Read Online Closer Than You Think by Karen Rose - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Rose
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operator asked. ‘Are you still there?’
‘I’m here. With the girl. She’s all bloody. Her face is bruised. And cut. She’s . . . naked. Someone’s cut her, all over.’ Wiping her bloody hand on her skirt, Faith pressed her fingers to the girl’s neck, relieved when she felt a pulse, though it was faint. ‘She’s alive, but barely. I can hardly get a pulse. She’s non-responsive.’
‘Can you describe her?’
‘Young. High school maybe. Long dark hair, past her shoulders. She appears Hispanic. Tall. Five-nine or so.’ The setting sun had cast the road in shadow, but the gash in the girl’s thigh was big and bad enough to be easily visible. ‘She may have been shot in the leg. Maybe in the arm, too, but there’s too much blood to tell.’ Faith struggled out of her coat and spread it over the girl, her own body sagging from the exertion.
Pushing the edge of her coat to the middle of the girl’s leg, she exposed the wound, then leaned closer, frowning. ‘Looks like somebody did a patch job on the bullet hole, but it busted open.’ She took off her scarf, balled it up, and pressed it to the wound. ‘I’m putting pressure on the leg. She’s lost a lot of blood. Tell whoever’s coming to hurry.’
‘They’ll be there in a few minutes. What about you? How’s your head?’
‘It hurts,’ she said tersely. ‘And I’m tired.’
‘Don’t sleep yet. Stay on the phone with me.’
‘I’ve had a concussion before. I know the drill.’ Squinting into the growing darkness, Faith searched for any sign of whoever might have dumped the girl there, but she saw nothing but trees. Whoever had left her was gone. Or hiding.
That they might come back to finish what they’d started was not impossible. ‘They won’t get at you again,’ she whispered to the girl, who made no sign that she was aware of anything that was happening. Her loss of consciousness might be a mercy in this situation. ‘They’ll have to go through me first.’
Taking her gun from the pocket of her coat, Faith staggered to her feet. Standing in place, she turned a slow circle, watching for any threat. All while she prayed that the Mount Carmel cops responded faster than the Miami cops she’d known.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.20 P.M.
Arianna couldn’t have gotten far. It was getting dark, so he switched on the van’s high beams, driving slowly, scanning the trees along the roadway. Within minutes the wrecked power company truck came into view. Arianna had crashed into a tree. The hood was a crushed mess.
Even better. If she was hurt, she might still be in the truck. Leaving the van on the road, he jogged to the wreck. She’s there. She’s got to be there .
But she wasn’t. The truck’s cab was empty. He clenched his teeth so hard that a sharp pain streaked up his neck into his skull. She’d escaped. Again.
Relax. There’s blood all over the seat. This isn’t so bad. Bleeding like she was, she had to be around here somewhere. He looked around the truck, careful not to touch it. His fingerprints weren’t in anyone’s system and he planned to keep it that way.
He walked slowly through the trees, following the trail she’d left in the dirt as she’d dragged herself forward. He had to give her some credit. She had guts and spirit.
He so looked forward to breaking her.
He’d rounded a curve in the road when he heard sirens and his heart simply stopped.
No. No, no, no. He crept closer and silently cursed when he saw the flashing blue lights up ahead. It was a squad car. A fucking squad car.
There was a body in the road, covered by a black wool coat. The body had long black hair. Arianna Escobar. Maybe she was dead. Please let her be dead.
The siren belonged to an ambulance, which came to a screeching halt next to the cruiser. A paramedic raced to her side and was waving his partner to hurry with a stretcher. When they rolled her away, her face was uncovered, an oxygen mask pressed to
‘I’m here. With the girl. She’s all bloody. Her face is bruised. And cut. She’s . . . naked. Someone’s cut her, all over.’ Wiping her bloody hand on her skirt, Faith pressed her fingers to the girl’s neck, relieved when she felt a pulse, though it was faint. ‘She’s alive, but barely. I can hardly get a pulse. She’s non-responsive.’
‘Can you describe her?’
‘Young. High school maybe. Long dark hair, past her shoulders. She appears Hispanic. Tall. Five-nine or so.’ The setting sun had cast the road in shadow, but the gash in the girl’s thigh was big and bad enough to be easily visible. ‘She may have been shot in the leg. Maybe in the arm, too, but there’s too much blood to tell.’ Faith struggled out of her coat and spread it over the girl, her own body sagging from the exertion.
Pushing the edge of her coat to the middle of the girl’s leg, she exposed the wound, then leaned closer, frowning. ‘Looks like somebody did a patch job on the bullet hole, but it busted open.’ She took off her scarf, balled it up, and pressed it to the wound. ‘I’m putting pressure on the leg. She’s lost a lot of blood. Tell whoever’s coming to hurry.’
‘They’ll be there in a few minutes. What about you? How’s your head?’
‘It hurts,’ she said tersely. ‘And I’m tired.’
‘Don’t sleep yet. Stay on the phone with me.’
‘I’ve had a concussion before. I know the drill.’ Squinting into the growing darkness, Faith searched for any sign of whoever might have dumped the girl there, but she saw nothing but trees. Whoever had left her was gone. Or hiding.
That they might come back to finish what they’d started was not impossible. ‘They won’t get at you again,’ she whispered to the girl, who made no sign that she was aware of anything that was happening. Her loss of consciousness might be a mercy in this situation. ‘They’ll have to go through me first.’
Taking her gun from the pocket of her coat, Faith staggered to her feet. Standing in place, she turned a slow circle, watching for any threat. All while she prayed that the Mount Carmel cops responded faster than the Miami cops she’d known.
Mt Carmel, Ohio, Monday 3 November, 5.20 P.M.
Arianna couldn’t have gotten far. It was getting dark, so he switched on the van’s high beams, driving slowly, scanning the trees along the roadway. Within minutes the wrecked power company truck came into view. Arianna had crashed into a tree. The hood was a crushed mess.
Even better. If she was hurt, she might still be in the truck. Leaving the van on the road, he jogged to the wreck. She’s there. She’s got to be there .
But she wasn’t. The truck’s cab was empty. He clenched his teeth so hard that a sharp pain streaked up his neck into his skull. She’d escaped. Again.
Relax. There’s blood all over the seat. This isn’t so bad. Bleeding like she was, she had to be around here somewhere. He looked around the truck, careful not to touch it. His fingerprints weren’t in anyone’s system and he planned to keep it that way.
He walked slowly through the trees, following the trail she’d left in the dirt as she’d dragged herself forward. He had to give her some credit. She had guts and spirit.
He so looked forward to breaking her.
He’d rounded a curve in the road when he heard sirens and his heart simply stopped.
No. No, no, no. He crept closer and silently cursed when he saw the flashing blue lights up ahead. It was a squad car. A fucking squad car.
There was a body in the road, covered by a black wool coat. The body had long black hair. Arianna Escobar. Maybe she was dead. Please let her be dead.
The siren belonged to an ambulance, which came to a screeching halt next to the cruiser. A paramedic raced to her side and was waving his partner to hurry with a stretcher. When they rolled her away, her face was uncovered, an oxygen mask pressed to
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