Marie Ferrarella – Protecting His Witness (страница 2)
It was a man.
Her first instinct was to run back to the car, get inside and lock all the doors. Had she not been who she was, from the shelter of her locked automobile she would have called the police and had them come out to deal with the man on her doorstep.
But she only took a few steps back and she didn’t call the police. The police held more terror for her than the man who was slumped across the back entrance to her home.
Holding her breath, Kasey took a tentative step back. Then another. All the while her eyes never left the man on her doorstep. She watched for movement, for any sign of life.
The man didn’t move a muscle.
Was he sleeping? Was this some poor, homeless creature who’d just given up the ghost, dying at her back door?
No, he was breathing, she could just barely see that. Staring at him, she noted the barest indication of his shoulders rising and falling.
He didn’t look like a homeless man.
Even though the streetlamp lighting was far from the best, she could see that her uninvited guest was clean. Looking closer, she saw that his skin wasn’t leathery. If he lived outdoors, it was a relatively new development.
“Hey, mister,” she called out, doing her best not to allow her voice to tremble, “are you all right?”
There was no answer. As far as she could see, there wasn’t even any indication that he had heard her. But she didn’t relax.
He could be one of them. Could be playing “possum” just to get her to come in closer. If she knew what was good for her, she’d make a beeline for her car and head back to the bookstore that she’d just locked up.
Making up her mind, she was about to do exactly that when something on the ground caught her eye. There was a dark pool of liquid forming beside him. Beneath him. Kasey didn’t have to guess what it was. She’d been part of this kind of scenario before.
Nerves came to attention as her heart leaped to her throat. Kasey scanned the area, trying to peer into the shadows. Was there someone else out there? Someone who had done this? Someone who was waiting for her?
But there appeared to be nothing to disturb the tranquility of the evening. Not even her neighbor’s orange cat was out tonight. Ordinarily, Cymbeline was out, inspecting the area, looking for the occasional mouse that strayed from the right-of-way into the development.
It was almost too quiet.
Kasey wasn’t sure if her training or just plain stupidity was to blame for her advancing several steps toward the man. She held her breath as she did so, as if that could somehow give her courage.
“Mister, you have to get up and go.” When there was no response from the man, not even a change in his breathing, she tried again. This time, she spoke more authoritatively. And lied. “I’ve called the police. They’ll be here any minute. So if you don’t want to do your explaining to them, I suggest you stop playing around and get out of here.”
Still nothing.
He was really unconscious. And bleeding.
So now what? she wondered, nervously chewing on her lower lip. She couldn’t just circle around to the front entrance and forget about him. Pretend he wasn’t there. No matter how much she felt she’d lost of herself these last two years, that compassionate part was still there. She wasn’t cold-blooded.
She sighed. No, that wasn’t what she was like, even though there were times that she felt that everything she’d ever been had died that day with Jim. Gunned down just like him.
Hesitantly, she stretched out her fingers and felt for a pulse at the man’s throat. The moment she touched him, his eyes opened and he grabbed her wrist.
Kasey swallowed a scream as she jerked her hand out of his grasp. The fact that she could do so easily told her that the man was definitely weak. Someone that big, that strong-looking would have easily held on to her if he wanted to no matter how hard she pulled—if he wasn’t being impeded by a debilitating wound.
“Help me.”
The entreaty, hardly above a whisper, slipped from his lips and seemed to fade almost immediately into the dark night. But she’d definitely heard it. Heard, too, the desperate note behind the words.
His eyes had closed again.
Kasey blew out a breath, torn. Again she thought about calling the police. But what if he was running from the police? If she got them to come here, she definitely wouldn’t be doing this man any favors.
The question ricocheted in her head, taunting her. But what if he wasn’t a felon? And what if circumstances were such that he didn’t want the police? After all, wasn’t she in essence running from the police—from certain members of the police force? And she certainly wasn’t a felon. If anything, she was a victim. Just someone who wanted to live to see another Christmas.
There were only two options. She either called the police, or did something for the stranger herself.
Kasey ventured a glance at the stranger’s face. He didn’t look like a bad guy, she thought. And if he did turn out to be one, well, it wasn’t as if she was completely defenseless. There was a gun inside the largest canister on her kitchen counter, right beside the ones containing flour, sugar and tea.
She’d actually practiced getting the weapon out under adverse conditions—just in case. Jim would have laughed at her if he could have seen her.
But then, she thought ruefully, as sadness strummed through her again, if he could have seen her, there would have been no reason to have a loaded gun hidden in the largest canister on her counter.
The stranger’s eyes were still closed.
And he was still bleeding.
Kasey made up her mind. She had the training and she could help him, the way she couldn’t help Jim.
Unlocking her door, she gingerly stepped over him to enter her house. Once inside, she turned around. She was going to bring him in.
“Okay, mister, this is your lucky night. But I promise you, if you try anything—anything at all—it’ll also be your last night.”
The stranger opened his eyes again and looked at her. She couldn’t begin to fathom what he was thinking. The next moment, he tried to struggle to his feet. Kasey had the feeling that if she blew on him, he’d fall backward like a stack of cards.
“Hold it,” she cautioned before he could do any damage to himself. “This is going to be a team effort.” Tossing aside her purse, Kasey squatted down beside him. “Give me your arm.”
Not waiting for him to comply, she draped his arm around the back of her neck herself. Holding tightly on to it, she placed her other arm around his waist as best she could. To gain a better grasp, she slid her fingers through the belt loop of his jeans. She hoped the loop would hold when she needed it.
Kasey took another deep breath, bracing herself. “Okay, on the count of three, I want you to try to get up, understand?”
He made some kind of noise in response. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Ready to push off, she counted, “One, two,
She only managed to get a couple of inches off the ground before the stranger threw her off balance. Caught off guard, she fell over on him.
Instantly, Kasey drew back. Had he done that on purpose? She tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, but trusting no longer came easily to her.
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” she told him.
There was no answer. She realized that the stranger was unconscious again and deadweight. She sighed. “Not going to make this easy for either of us, are you?”
She needed another approach. Rising to her feet, she got behind him and put her arms around his chest. She laced her hands together and pulled him across the threshold and along the floor.
Progress was made by inches but she had always prided herself on her strength and even in these dire times—or maybe because of them—she worked out religiously, concentrating on weight training and building up her upper body strength.
Finally getting all of him inside her small house, Kasey felt like collapsing. Not only was the man deadweight, he was rock solid. But rather than take a breather, she straightened up and turned on the closest light. No way would she voluntarily stay in the dark with this man. Closing the door, she turned around to face her uninvited guest. There was a very disconcerting trail of blood leading from the threshold to the living room.
She was going to have to clean that up before the bloodstains set in permanently. But first, she had to stop the blood at its source.
Kasey glanced over her shoulder. Her sofa was only a few feet away from the back door, but it might as well have been in the next county. Even if she managed to pull him the distance, she wouldn’t be able to get him onto the sofa. At least, not without going through extraordinary contortions and she was much too tired for that.
Which meant she had to treat him on the floor. Everything in her training balked at that, but you couldn’t always pick your settings.