Memory of Murder. Ramona Richards
Читать онлайн книгу.
man bent closer but deftly stayed out of Jeff’s line of sight. “Oh, yes. You’re worthless, boy. If that woman were still alive, she’d hate you for abandoning her. Sheriff Taylor should fire you. And he will by the time we get through with you. We’ll be watching and waiting for the next chance to make you fail.”
Jeff spit gravel out of his mouth and tried to speak. Then he heard the ominous buzz just before the spears of pain hit his shoulder. Lightning shots of current sheared through him again, and Jeff screamed in rage and despair.
* * *
Nothing smells like a wrecked car. Lindsey had been in more than one accident, and the smells always lingered in her memory. Hot oil, burnt rubber, gasoline and stressed metal. Acrid smoke burned her nose. It had startled Lindsey to consciousness, but now she just wanted to get away from it. She tried to move, but her shoulders felt wedged beneath the dash. A low moan escaped her as each and every inch of her body felt battered and bruised.
It was an old feeling, deep from within her childhood, and she pushed it away, mentally going over her body to survey her injuries. The coppery taste in her mouth and swollen cheek and lips meant a blow to the face, and the slick and sticky liquid coating her hands told her that the plastic ties had cut deep into her skin. Her right shoulder felt twisted. One ankle throbbed with a terrible ache, but nothing felt broken. Her father had dealt her far worse.
While her injuries were excruciating, Lindsey was even more terrified that she stared, face-to-face, at her attacker. Her small, limp frame had crumpled and wedged itself in the passenger floorboard. Unbelted, the man had toppled from behind the wheel when the car went up on its right side. He’d smashed headfirst into the passenger-side window, then slid down in the seat as the car settled back on four wheels. Even unconscious and bleeding from two major head wounds, he felt menacing. Though frightened, Lindsey forced herself to remain still.
Who are you? Ghostly pale, his round face still had a babyish quality to it, like that of a teenager. She’d never seen him before, and from Jeff’s reaction back at the restaurant, he hadn’t recognized the attacker, either. And Lindsey felt pretty certain that Deputy Jeff Gage knew just about everyone in Bell County.
Jeff. Her thoughts flashed back to the restaurant, to the sight of Jeff lying motionless on the ground. “Please, Lord,” she whispered. “Let him be okay.” In that moment, Lindsey realized she really wanted Jeff here, to see him, to know he was all right. For him to tell her everything would be all right.
“Please. Get us out of this.”
Out. I have to get out. Lindsey tried to move, to straighten her legs, but she almost screamed from the pain that shot through her muscles and joints. She gave up, taking comfort in the sound of someone scrambling around in the brush outside the car.
“We’re here!” she called out. “Please help us!”
A blinding light hit her face, and Lindsey grimaced, trying to turn away. “Hey!”
“You’re supposed to be dead. Again.”
Lindsey stilled. “Who are you?”
A gloved hand reached in through the passenger window and fumbled around the body of her unconscious assailant. “Is he dead?”
Fear seized Lindsey now, freezing her tongue. An old memory shot through her, one from her childhood. A voice that had made her stop in her tracks, unable to speak. Words so similar, Lindsey wondered if she were hallucinating. You’re supposed to be dead. Is she dead?
She. Not he. Lindsey blinked hard, trying to clear the fog in her mind. Everything felt mixed up, the past and present running together like paint colors. Why can’t I remember!
“No matter.” The hand kept pulling at the man’s clothes until it found the shirt pocket. “If he’s not, he will be soon. Stupid...deserves to die for wrecking this car. What a waste. Beautiful machine.” Fingers clawed into the pocket, plucking the piece of paper from it. “And for not completing his job with you.”
The street-savvy kid who still lived deep inside Lindsey reacted instinctively, and she twisted hard, shoving herself deeper beneath the dash. She screamed just as the light swung in her direction, smashing into the spot where her head had been. The light shattered and went out. The man cursed, condemning her and everything on the planet. He reached through the window and clawed desperately at the glove compartment, but wasn’t able to get it open.
Sirens split the night air, and the sound of urgent voices echoed into the ravine. The man cursed again, backing away from the car. “We’re not done with you. We’re around every corner.”
As he crashed away through the brush, Lindsey sobbed.
Another light pierced the car, and Lindsey screamed, terror shooting through her.
“Lindsey! It’s okay. We’re here to help.” This time the warm, soothing tones belonged to Sheriff Ray Taylor, and relief flooded through her as she recognized the baritone voice of her brother-in-law.
“Ray! Please get me out of here.”
“As soon as we can, hon. Hang in there with me.”
Lindsey closed her eyes, let out a slow, ragged breath and nodded.
* * *
“Jeff. Talk to me, son.”
Jeff heard the voice, but consciousness did not return easily, no matter how hard he tried. Light hurt. Sound hurt.
Everything hurt.
“Jeff, can you hear me?”
Jeff Gage recognized the gentle but gravelly voice of the EMT. Alan Gage. His stepfather. Other voices hovered over him. Alan’s fellow EMTs and other deputies. Firm hands helped ease him onto a backboard, and a cervical collar stabilized his head.
“Lindsey.” Jeff’s voice still sounded as if he’d swallowed a load of mulch. He tried to open his eyes, but the light burned them, making more pain spear into his skull. The odor of a strong antiseptic blended with the smell of gravel dust. Jeff fought the urge to sneeze.
Alan squeezed his arm. “I know. They found her. Ray’s with her now.”
“She all right?”
Alan hesitated, and Jeff’s gut knotted. He twisted, testing his muscles against the belts of the gurney as it rolled toward the ambulance. “Alan, I don’t need this. Let me up.”
The grizzled EMT made a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl. He placed an arm over Jeff’s chest. “Boy, you ain’t goin’ nowhere. That car Lindsey was in crashed. She’s awake and headed for the hospital. So are you. You have a knot on the back of your head the size of a grapefruit. You’ve been hit with two full doses of a stun gun, so you got a nice burn on your chest and one on your shoulder. Thrashing around on the ground scraped you up pretty good, and it looks like you took a shot to the ribs as well as to your skull. Maybe a couple of breaks. Maybe a concussion. We’ll let the docs sort it out. You ain’t going nowhere but the hospital, and your mother would kill me if I even let you try.”
Jeff stared up at Alan, his words like acid in his throat. “I should have protected her. I failed her.” He grimaced. “They’re coming after us again.”
* * *
“Hold still, Lindsey. I’m going to cut the ties.”
Behind her back, there was a soft snip, and her hands fell free, releasing her shoulders and arms from their painful and stretched position. They couldn’t get her out of the mangled car, but she’d managed to twist so that Ray could cut the plastic ties. She sighed with relief. “How’s Jeff?”
Sheriff Ray Taylor’s mouth twitched, as if he were fighting his true thoughts. Instead, he cleared his throat, his baritone voice as gruff as his words. “He’s at the hospital. Which is where you’re going.” He snapped his pocketknife closed, then draped a heavy, protective blanket over Lindsey as, behind him, two rescue workers pushed their way through the