The Sheriff. Angi Morgan

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ heard through the speaker. “There was an accident in Alpine and since it’s only a pickup they aren’t in a hurry.”

      “Not a problem.”

      No shut-eye anytime soon. He was stuck waiting here an hour unless Peach called him for a Marfa emergency. Fat chance. He’d get the pics they’d need for their records and maybe catch a nap after. He grabbed the camera from the Tahoe.

      Careful not to disturb the body, he started snapping away, including the outside of the car and the tags. When he reached the driver’s-side door, he noticed blood on the outside and then the tracks, patterns in the dirt as if someone had crawled from the car.

      “Anyone out here?” he yelled, tilting the beam as far as it would project and following distinct shoe impressions. “I’m with the Marfa Sheriff’s Department and here to help.”

      He shoved the camera in his pocket and picked up his pace. Two or three minutes passed, the footprints grew more erratic and then the bottom of a shoe came into view.

      “Hello?” He ran to a woman lying facedown in the sand. She was visibly breathing, but unresponsive to shaking her shoulder. He verified no broken bones and no wounds, then rolled her over.

      There was a lot of blood on her white tank, but no signs of any bleeding. He dusted the sand from her young face. Smooth skin. That won’t go in the report. Caucasian. Short brown hair. Blue eyes, responsive to light.

      “Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

      The accident couldn’t have happened that long ago. The hood of the car had been warm. Should he move her? There could be multiple things wrong with her. He ran his hands over her body checking for broken bones. She wasn’t responding to stimulation. She needed immediate care and the ambulance was an hour out. That sealed it. He scooped her into his arms and rushed her back to his car.

      Once he had her buckled, he picked up the microphone. “Peach!”

      He returned along the same tire tracks, picking up his speed since he knew the path was clear.

      “Bored already?” Peach asked.

      “I’m transporting a survivor to Alpine General. Found her fifty yards or so from the car.”

      “Lord have mercy. I’ll let them know you’re on your way.”

      The car hit a bump and he heard a moan and mumbling from next to him. Good sign. “Hang in there, ma’am.”

      Slowing as he hit the road’s pavement, he could swear the woman begged him not to let the aliens get her.

      The Marfa Lights sure did attract a lot of kooks.

       Chapter Three

      “I’ve told you several times now, I’m not sure what rammed me off the road. It had to be a chopper, but the lights blinded me and I never got a good look at what model.”

      Everyone seemed to know the man who had brought Andrea to the hospital. He leaned his broad shoulders against the wall closest to the door. He’d scribbled notes and asked questions while the doctors looked her over. And almost every other sentence had been spent correcting someone congratulating him for his new position as sheriff.

      Pardon, acting sheriff.

      A sprained wrist, a minor concussion and dirty clothes, that was the extent of her accident injuries. Her favorite jeans were ruined. Not to mention Sharon’s car.

      The nurse said she could get her a hospital gown, but the good-looking deputy hadn’t offered to leave the room while she changed. Ruined and filthy clothes would just have to do. She’d feel too open and exposed in front of Acting Sheriff Pete Morrison.

      It was hardly fair to have such an attractive lawman interrogating her. It made her mind wander to forbidden topics, so it was much safer to remain completely covered.

      “How tall are you?” he asked, flipping another page in his notebook.

      “Five-nine. How could that be important?” As tall as she was, she’d have to tiptoe to kiss him. What was wrong with her thinking? Had she hit her head a little too hard? Of course she had. Hello. Concussion!

      “Just being thorough.”

      She watched him sort of hide a grin, draw his brows together in concentration and drop his gaze to her chest. So he’d noticed the pink bra? No worries. Why? Because he’s extremely cute, that’s why.

      “You’re certain you didn’t hear anything? The man who ‘came from the desert,’ as you put it, he didn’t say anything?” he asked.

      “I don’t think so. By the way, how is that guy doing? Is he still in surgery? I keep asking, but no one seems to know anything about him. This is the only hospital, right?”

      The nurse looked confused when Andrea had asked earlier. This time she turned to the sheriff, who shook his head, then shrugged. Everyone coming into the room had looked to the young sheriff for permission to speak and been denied.

      “Can you tell us who your friend is?” he asked, flashing bright blue eyes her direction.

      “Check your notes, Sheriff Morrison. I’m certain I told you he wasn’t my friend. That was sometime between having my temperature taken and my wrist x-rayed.”

      “Yes, ma’am, you did say that.” The sheriff looked at his notes and flipped to the previous page. “No need to call me Sheriff. Pete will do.”

      “Guess there’s nothing wrong with her memory, Pete,” the nurse said as she continued to wrap Andrea’s left hand, pausing several times to smile at the hunky man.

      Andrea had regained consciousness in the emergency room with a horrible smell wafting under her nose. It wasn’t her first time for smelling salts. She’d gotten rammed a couple of times as a shortstop on the softball field in college. She could just imagine what her mother would say when she told her parents about this sprain. Peggy Allen would be glad her daughter was uninjured and it was simply a miracle how her middle daughter had managed to avoid a car accident until the ripe old age of twenty-six.

      Not a miracle to her father, who had taught her how to drive like a naval aviator late for a launch at NASA. That was a phone call she dreaded. At least it could wait until morning. No sense worrying her parents tonight.

      “How’s that, Miss Allen?” the nurse asked, securing the last bit of elastic bandage around her wrist. Miraculously—to use her mother’s word—the slight ache was the only pain she experienced. Other than a headache from the concussion.

      “Great. Thanks. Can I go now?”

      “I just need to get the doctor’s signature and I can get your discharge papers.” The nurse put her supplies away, smiled prettily again at the annoying officer. “See you, Pete.”

      “What’s your hurry?” the good-looking man asked as she left.

      At first she thought he was flirting with the nurse. He dipped his dimpled chin, raised his eyebrows, expectantly waiting...

      “Oh, СКАЧАТЬ