Carol Ericson - The Bridge

“I can’t say for sure, Elise.” He tucked his notepad into his jacket pocket. “Is the hospital releasing you soon?”

“The nurse is coming back to check my temperature. If it’s at a safe level, I’m free to go.”

“It’s almost morning. How are you getting home?”

“Taxi.” She hit her forehead with the heel of her hand. “My purse. It must’ve fallen on the ground outside the club.”

“Or he took it.”

She widened her baby blues, which seemed to get even bluer. “My license is in there, my phone, my credit card.”

He has her address and her contacts and God knows what else.

“If he tries to use the card, we can track him.”

“He knows my address now. I got away. I can give a description of him.” Her hands clawed at the sheets.

He resisted the urge to take one of those small fists in his hand. “Maybe he left the purse at the scene. We’ll call the club to see if anyone found it. We’re going to canvass outside the club anyway, see if he left any evidence, question the employees.”

Still clutching the sheets, she said, “I’m sure he has my purse. He called my name wh-when I was hiding from him. I never told him my name.”

A nurse peeked around the curtain and tiptoed to the bed in the small space. “Excuse me, Detective. I need to take her temperature.”

Sean scooted his chair back to give her room, and the nurse leaned over Elise, pinching a thermometer between her fingers and wheeling the machine on the stand closer to the bed.

“I’m just going to put this under your tongue and we’ll see how you’re doing.” The nurse made a tsking noise. “They could’ve done a better job drying your hair.”

Elise twirled a damp lock around her finger and shrugged.

The nurse peered at the thermometer. “You’re good to go. How do you feel? How’s the head?”

“I’m warm, I’m dry and my head hasn’t hurt since the last ibuprofen I took.”

“Then I’ll bring your clothes and have the doctor sign your release. I’m sorry we have to kick you out of the emergency room. You should see your own doctor as soon as possible for a once-over.”

“I will, thanks.”

When the nurse left, Elise clasped her hands in her lap, looking...lost.

Sean cleared his throat. “Since you don’t have your purse, can I give you a lift home? Unless you want to call a friend.”

Or a boyfriend? Husband? Surely this woman had someone in her life, someone to keep her safe.

“I’ll take the ride, if you don’t mind. My best friend is the one I went to the club with. I doubt she’s going to be up at this time of the morning. I doubt she’s going to be home.”

“I’m assuming you lost your keys, too. How are you going to get into your place?”

“I hide a set outside.”

“Not a great idea.” He started to shake a finger at her, and then snatched it back. She didn’t need one of his lectures on safety.

Color rushed into her pale cheeks as she dropped her gaze to her folded hands. “I guess it wasn’t a great idea to approach this guy at two in the morning on a deserted street, either.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, Elise. He’s clever. Why would you think he’d be a danger with a cast on?”

He’s not the first killer to use this ploy, and he won’t be the last. He had to remember that, too. The M.O. wasn’t unique, just as bird tattoos weren’t unique.

“I should’ve known. My friend, Courtney, would’ve known. Street smarts she’d call it.”

“Is Courtney the one who stayed at the club past two and may not be home this morning?” He raised one eyebrow.

“Yeah.” A smiled hovered on lips.

“Doesn’t sound too street smart to me.”

“Here are your clothes.” The nurse had a plastic bag hanging from her wrist and a black dress dangling from her fingers. “We did our best to dry them, but I think the dress is ruined.”

“Oh, well. Small price to pay.” Elise took the dress from the nurse and shook it out.

Sean pushed up from the plastic chair. “I’ll be in the waiting room.”

It didn’t take long for Elise to get dressed. After he’d circled the waiting room twice and inspected and rejected the vending machine in the corner, Elise shuffled into the waiting room, hospital slippers on her feet and a snug black dress hugging her curves.

She crossed her bare arms, and Sean strode across the room, shrugging out of his jacket. “Can’t the hospital loan you a blanket for the trip home?”

“I think the nurse expected someone to pick me up and bring a change of clothes.”

He draped his jacket around her shoulders. “Do you want me to call someone for you?”

“It’s too early in the morning to call anyone.”

“Family?”

“None here.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Nonexistent.”

At least he’d gotten that out of the way. He pulled the jacket tight under her chin. It was as if her assailant had known she was alone. Maybe this wasn’t a random attack.

He pointed to her feet. “Can you walk in those things?”

“If I don’t pick up my feet, they’re surprisingly comfortable. My shoes have been swept out to sea by now.”

Sean had parked his unmarked car in the small driveway in front of the emergency room entrance. He guided Elise to the car with a hand on the small of her back. Comfortable or not, it looked as if she could trip over those slippers at any minute.

He opened the front passenger door for her and she ducked in the car, tugging at her short dress. Had it shrunk after her dip in the bay? The black, sparkly material barely covered her assets—not that he minded.

He cranked on the heater after cranking on the engine. “Are you warm enough?”

“I’m fine.” She wiggled her toes and tapped on the window. “Maybe we’ll get some clear weather today.”

“That fog saved you last night, or rather earlier this morning.”

“It did.” She pinned her hands, completely covered by the sleeves of his jacket, between her bouncing knees.

“Where to?” He rolled away from the curb, looking over his left shoulder.

“Sunset District. I live in a house—the owner has the upstairs and I get the downstairs. It was divided into two apartments.”

“Okay, just give me directions as we get closer.” He scratched his chin. He didn’t want to keep bringing up the attack, but that’s why he was here, wasn’t it?

“We need you at the station sometime today to work with a sketch artist. Even if the guy was wearing a disguise, maybe we can get down the shape of his face or some other distinguishing characteristic.”

“Like the tattoo.”

The pulse in his throat jumped. “Yeah, like the tattoo.”

“Do you mind if we stop on the way for a coffee or something hot? Just a takeout.”

“Sorry.” He drummed the steering wheel with his thumbs. “I should’ve thought of that. You probably still need something warm to drink.”

As he swung into a U-turn, Elise said, “Hot chocolate.”

“Hot chocolate it is.”

“With whipped cream.”

“Of course.”

She bit her lip. “I suppose I should learn to like coffee like a grown-up, but there’s something so comforting about hot chocolate.”

“After the experience you had, you deserve comfort.” And protection. And whipped cream.

“I don’t have to go in like this, do I?” She yanked at the hem of her dress, which had hitched up around her thighs.

“I’m parking right out front. You can wait in the car.”

“One of the perks of riding with a cop.”

He parked the car illegally at the curb and hopped out. Even though the sun was rising on the busy street and people bustled in and out of the busy coffeehouse, Sean kept his focus on his car and Elise’s profile through the window.