Read Online Princess, Without Cover by Courtney Cole - Free Book Online

to be much help. Her memory was sketchy at best.
    “Anything that you can remember will be helpful.”
    He dismissed her statement with cynical disregard, as though her opinion was of the most miniscule of importance. It was clear that he felt that he was the only one qualified to determine what was helpful and what was not.
    Sydney was immediately taken aback by the curtness in his voice, which only served to put her on edge.  His partner moved around the bed to stand closer to Sydney, pulling out a little leather notebook and a heavy ink pen. 
    “What do you remember, Ms. Ross?”
    Detective Wills had the no-nonsense manner that Sydney would have expected from a detective, as well as the dumpy clothes and the coffee breath.  She could tell from her burned out demeanor that this woman was someone who had seen everything and had probably spoken with a hundred girls just like Sydney. And it was very apparent that she was weary of it. 
    Stephen picked up her hand again, reassuringly.  She didn’t pull away, even though Detective Daniels flickered his gaze briefly as he registered the gesture.  She tried not to care because they weren’t doing anything wrong. The warmth of Stephen’s hand gave her the assurance that someone in the room was on her side.  The unexpected glacial cold emanating from Detective Daniels certainly wasn’t doing it for her.
    “I only remember an old beat-up car.  It was black. And it had a big gold bird on the hood.  I didn’t see it at all before it hit me, only when it was backing up to drive away. And there was the smell… burning rubber, I think. I heard tires squealing.”
    “You didn’t see the driver when he struck you?” Detective Wills’ pen hesitated on her paper, waiting for Sydney to confirm.
     “No. I didn’t. It happened too fast.  I heard a loud engine and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.  I didn’t even feel anything at the time.” The heavy pen scratched quickly against the paper.
    “Were the car windows up or down?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Were the windows tinted?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Was the car in the parking lot when you went into the store?”
    “I don’t think so. But I didn’t notice.”
    “Do you know anyone with a black Trans-Am or Firebird?”
    “No.”
    “Do you know anyone who would want to hurt you?”
    The pen lingered over the paper, waiting for something to write.
    Sydney halted her answers and stared at the detective in shock. She had been under the assumption that it was a strange, random accident. The idea that someone had tried to kill her dawned on her as suddenly as someone dumping ice water on her head.
    “You think someone hit me on purpose?” she asked incredulously.  “Who would do that?”
    “That’s what we’re trying to ascertain, Ms. Ross. Do you have any ideas?”
    “Why would you think they did it on purpose?” She couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that someone would want to hurt her enough to ponder who it could be.
     “The clerk in the store saw a late model black Trans-Am speeding into the parking lot, as though it had been waiting for you to walk out of the store.  It hit you, then made a quick three-point turn to escape from the parking lot.  Unfortunately, the glare of the sun was on the windshield, so he couldn’t get a description of the driver. He couldn’t see the tag either because the driver fled the scene too fast.  But they’re pulling up the surveillance tapes for our review.  Do you have any enemies?”
     “No.  I don’t.  I mean, my ex-boyfriend’s parents hate me because I got pregnant.  But I don’t think I would call them enemies. They just pretend that I don’t exist.”
    “When is the last time that you spoke with them?”
    “When we told them… about four months ago.”
    When Mrs. Price called had called her a stupid little twit. 
    “How did they take the news?” 
    “Not well. They wanted me to get an abortion.”
    “Why didn’t