“Do you know what type of injury?”
“Someone either shot or stabbed her in her lower abdomen, there’s a lot of blood, she’s going to die if the ambulance doesn’t get here immediately.” The warm blood had seeped through Max’s scarf and coated her hands. She thought the flow had slowed, but she couldn’t be sure.
“An ambulance has been dispatched and is en route.”
“ETA?”
“Three minutes.”
Max didn’t know if Dru had already lost too much blood to survive.
She glanced around, making sure there wasn’t anyone else she had to worry about sneaking up on her. Her Taser was on, but she’d put it on the ground next to her to tend to Dru. Max glanced under all the cars and didn’t see anyone lying in wait. She heard voices coming down the stairwell. Laughter, male and female. When the couple walked by, they jumped at the sight of Max huddled over a bleeding body. The man stepped in front of the woman and said, “Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay?” Max snapped. She took a deep breath. “Police are on their way.” She was definitely on edge. It didn’t help that she had a throbbing headache and an edge of adrenaline clinging from the near miss with the black sedan and holding Dru’s life in her hands.
Don’t die, don’t die, don’t die, dammit!
Dru was so young, her life just getting started, Max willed her to survive, to be strong.
“If you have a blanket in your car, that would help. And if one of you could run up the ramp and flag down the ambulance so they know exactly where we are, that would be great.
They glanced at each other, then the man said, “Okay.”
Dru moaned again.
“Ms. Revere?” the dispatcher said over the cell phone.
Max could barely hear Dru with the noise coming from her phone, so she cut off the dispatcher and said, “Hey, Dru, it’s Max. Take it easy.”
“S-s-sorry,” Dru breathed.
“Don’t talk, kid. Help’s coming.” Max could hear the sirens in the distance. “Who hurt you?” she asked.
She shook her head, then cried out in pain.
Max wished she could make her comfortable. “Don’t talk, conserve your strength.” Max didn’t know if it was good or bad news that Dru was awake.
“Wore. Mask.”
The man returned with a blanket and Max motioned for him to cover Dru’s body. She didn’t want to let up on the pressure.
“Ask.”
“Shh.”
“J—Jace—the trees. Holes in the trees.”
The sirens were louder, and Max saw the red lights reflecting off the concrete walls of the underground garage before she saw the ambulance turn down the ramp. The woman motioned the emergency vehicle over to the two cars, and the man waved his arms.
“The cavalry has arrived,” Max told Dru, but the girl was unconscious again.
Holes in the trees? What the hell did that mean?
*
Max watched as Dru was loaded into the ambulance. The responding officer ran her license through the system. He’d already talked to the couple who had shared the blanket, and taken Max’s statement, but she had to wait for the detective.
She stared at the blood on her hands. Dru was young and strong and healthy, but there had been so much blood.
While the cop was occupied, she called Detective Nick Santini.
“Santini.”
“This is Max Revere. Your witness was just stabbed—Dru Parker.”
“Where?”
She told him. “She called to meet with me and I found her unconscious and bleeding in a parking garage. She’s on her way to the hospital.”
“Stay put.”
“I don’t think the police are going to let me leave,” she said and hung up.
The officer said suspiciously, “Who were you talking to?”
Max almost made a flip comment about calling the police commissioner, but decided to say, “It’s personal.”
“Detective Gorman is on her way, I need you to wait for a couple more minutes.”
“I’d like to clean up.”
The officer looked skeptical, and Max said, “Really? You want me to stand here covered in that girl’s blood and wait for your detective to get her ass here?”
“I don’t have a female officer to escort you to a restroom,” he said.
“I’m not under arrest. I’ll come right back.”
“I need you to stay. The detective may need your clothes for evidence.”
Max’s adrenaline was fading, leaving only a worse headache. If she was at her prime, she would have walked away and let the cop either arrest her or let her go. She had no tolerance for bullshit. Making her stand here with blood all over her hands, arms, and dress was making her both queasy and ornery. She mentally wrote an article. Asshole cop forces witness who saved victim’s life to sit in blood for nearly an hour.
Her editor would edit out asshole. No matter how accurate the adjective was.
She forced herself to regain her composure. The cop was just doing his job. What she really wanted to know was: Were there security tapes? Had someone witnessed the brutal attack on Dru Parker? And dammit, why? If she’d just gotten here sooner. If she’d told Dru to stay put in Starbucks where there were people and some degree of security. If she’d looked for her immediately rather than waiting upstairs.
She pulled out her phone again and called David. “My witness was attacked,” she said.
“Dead?”
“Not yet. Unconscious, being taken to Sequoia.”
“I’ll get her status.”
“Thanks.”
“I can be there in an hour.”
“No.” She’d have to tell David what happened eventually, but she didn’t need him here now. “This has nothing to do with me.”