Triple Dare. Candace Irvin

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СКАЧАТЬ Brian?

      She couldn’t be sure. There was a police cruiser in the way. Those incessant, blinding lights. “I’m sorry. I wish I could give you more, but I didn’t see his face.” Truth was, she hadn’t even looked. She’d been focused on Brian.

      Terrified.

      “Did you get a look at the license plate, ma’am? Even a partial number would help narrow down the search.”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t see anything.” Just that hideous knife. The limo’s window.

      Brian’s head.

      If hers felt like it was about to split open, how must his feel? “Please, I—I need to see my brother. Now.”

      She must have sounded as desperate as she felt because the cop finally tucked his notebook away and helped her stand. As she looked around, she realized which crash the officer had been referring to. There was a van with a mobile food cart in tow jackknifed halfway up onto the sidewalk beside the Newhouse Theatre. The van’s crushed front end was still married to the base of a steel streetlight.

      God willing, the driver had fared as well as she.

      Two uniformed cops ordered a group of gawkers back as a third officer unraveled a roll of yellow crime scene tape. He secured the tape to a pole as Ryder escorted her past the side of the van and down the street. Ten steps later, Abby felt glass crunching beneath her shoes. She assumed it was from the limo’s shattered window, but she couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t see her brother yet, either. The staccato of lights from both ambulances and a pair of cruisers blocking traffic at the far intersection were playing havoc with her precarious vision as she drew closer.

      Several steps later, her vision cleared. She immediately wished it hadn’t.

      The body.

      Her stomach lurched as she stared down at the man her brother had tried in vain to save. She shifted her gaze in a desperate attempt to avoid the limo driver’s distant, glassy stare only to spot his shredded shirt. It was saturated with blood. The excess had pooled beneath his jacket, spreading into the street…around a pair of glasses.

      She’d recognize those thick lenses anywhere. They belonged to Brian.

      Her legs buckled.

      Evidently, Officer Ryder was more seasoned than he looked. He caught her before she could fall.

      “Gotcha, ma’am.”

      Abby closed her eyes as the dizzying fog swirled in. It didn’t help. Like the sight of her brother’s head shattering that limo window, those bloodstained lenses were already burned into her brain. Her heart. By the time she regained her equilibrium, she swore the surrounding air had dropped thirty degrees. She shivered.

      “Are you okay now, ma’am?”

      No. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be okay again.

      She pulled herself together as best she could and nodded anyway. “W-where’s my brother?”

      “This way.” Ryder snagged her elbow and nudged her toward the flashing lights. She followed automatically, only to stiffen several yards later as she spotted her brother’s mussed hair through the open doors of a police cruiser. He was lying down across the rear seat, the top of his dark brown head toward her. Her violin was on the floorboard beside him, its steel case open as if someone had checked the Stradivarius to make sure it’d survived. Funny, for all she’d gone through to earn the right to play the thing, she’d forgotten all about it. All she could think about was her brother. The need to make sure he was okay.

      She vaulted forward, leaving the cop in her wake as she scrambled across the remaining asphalt. But as she reached the cruiser and knelt beside the door, shock stopped her cold.

      Brian was sleeping?

      It would explain the thin blanket someone had tucked about her brother’s body. Her surprise turned to apprehension as she smoothed the hair from his forehead. Her brother’s breathing might appear deep and steady, but his cheeks were beyond pale. Flaccid. Was Brian asleep…or unconscious?

      “Hey, bro. Wake up.”

      He didn’t even stir.

      She swallowed her panic and tried again. “Brian?”

      “He’s fine, ma’am. Just a bit dazed.”

      Abby turned to find a lanky paramedic, his tightly braided dreadlocks bunched securely at the base of his neck, rounding the rear of the cruiser. Her panic snapped back as the ebony-skinned man murmured something she couldn’t quite make out to Ryder and shook his head.

      Had Ryder downplayed her brother’s condition?

      Before she could ask, the cop turned and headed back into the crime scene.

      Reassurance filled the paramedic’s gaze as he lowered himself to her level. The man’s lilting Caribbean accent soothed her even more, “Your brother’s lucky Mr. Sabura arrived when he did, Ms. Pembroke. Brian has several cuts, along with swelling and bruising on his left shoulder. Fortunately none of those cuts require stitches.”

      “His shoulder? But…I thought he hit his head.”

      The paramedic shook his head. “It may have seemed so given the darkness and your angle of view, but I couldn’t find any evidence of head trauma. One of the detectives told me that from the amount of glass present, the window was probably half open or less. Without the car he can’t be sure—but that does mesh with your brother’s injuries. Given the level of bruising, his shoulder bore the brunt of the attack.”

      Relief blistered in. With it, however, came more confusion as she studied the steady rise and fall of her brother’s chest. “I don’t understand. How can he sleep at a time like this?”

      “Shock. His Down’s, too. The stabbing you two witnessed hit your brother especially hard. Brian was coherent when I arrived, but upset and extremely confused. Your brother appears to have blocked out the attack itself. Since he wasn’t even in pain, he didn’t understand why I wanted to examine him. Mr. Sabura managed to calm Brian down, but by the time I finished—” the paramedic shrugged “—his mind had simply shut down. His body followed. You’ll want your doctor to look at him, but I’m certain a good night’s sleep will help. Given a few days, he may be able to recall what happened.”

      “Thank God.” Abby ran her fingers through her brother’s hair. No bumps. Still— “You said he wasn’t in any pain?” That didn’t make sense. Even if he had struck his shoulder and not his head. “That monster smashed him into the window so hard the glass shattered.”

      He wasn’t even sore?

      The paramedic tugged his stethoscope from his neck as he shrugged. “The human body is amazing, Ms. Pembroke. I’ve seen people walk away from much worse. I’ve also seen them done in by less. If I were you, I would count it for the blessing it is and move on.”

      The man was right.

      Abby stood, intent on doing just that. Unfortunately her own throbbing head chose that moment to combine with the returning dizziness. Her vision fuzzed as she swayed. For the СКАЧАТЬ