Stella Cameron - A Cold Day In Hell

“I’m going to be fine,” Emma said. She planted an elbow and pushed herself out from beneath the pickup. She smiled at Delia and whispered, “See if you can get Lobelia out of here. Sabine will help.”

“Consider it done,” Delia said and stood up. She flapped her arms at Lobelia. “This is too much for you. Much too much. I insist we go back inside and have some coffee. With a little something stronger in it.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Ona said. “It’s my own special recipe for shock.”

Lobelia tutted.

“I insist,” Delia said, and the four women headed back toward Out Back.

“Where the hell’s the aid car?” Matt asked, and more flashing lights appeared as if he’d summoned them. “Well…well, we’ve got a good portion of the police force. But I want medics.” Another cop car pulled in, followed by a dark-colored Prius.

“The aid car could have been called to an emergency,” Emma said.

Matt opened his mouth and Finn as good as heard that the other man intended to say that this was an emergency. “Good thing everything’s under control here,” Finn said quickly. “Rusty’s arrived. I don’t think we want a whole lot written about this in the papers, at least not yet. Whoever did this needs to be caught, not scared off.”

Rusty Barnes ran the local newspaper and he was also a close friend of Finn and Emma.

The arms that closed around Emma were the only ones she wanted to feel. She looked up at Finn, into his dark, troubled eyes, and he managed a half-hearted grin. “Sit still,” he said. “When I get you home I’m keeping you there. You’re too dangerous to be out. What have you got on your feet? You’ve got to wear sensible shoes.”

Emma just listened to him and kept her head on his shoulder.

Rusty arrived. He had a camera slung over one shoulder. Like most very-small-town newspapers, The Pointe Judah News didn’t run to many employees. In fact, Rusty and two production people were it.

“Emma?” he said, dropping down beside her. “What’s happened? You okay? Finn?” Anxiety tightened his voice.

“Can we talk about it when we get back home?” Finn said, looking straight into Rusty’s eyes. “I’m going to ask you for a favor. Please don’t write about this.”

Rusty nodded, showing immediate understanding, then backed off to give them room. “You bet.”

“Emma,” Matt said. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened to you?”

“Yes.” She suddenly wanted to. She wanted that man arrested. “A man waited for me out here—in that line of trees. He said horrible things about my baby getting killed. And me. He talked about…he talked about something that happened before and he was angry because he said I’d forgotten it, only I haven’t.”

“What was he talking about?”

She sucked in a deep breath. “Denise Steen and how she died such a horrible death. He said everyone’s forgotten her and I’m just getting on with my life like she never lived. I didn’t expect that to be brought up again.”

Finn’s arms tightened around her but he didn’t interrupt. Denise Steen had been murdered in Pointe Judah two years ago. He and Emma had found the body.

Clemens was taking notes.

“So he threatened you and took off?” Matt said.

“He chased me,” Emma said in a small voice. “I was almost to my car but I knew I shouldn’t try to get in with him so close. I think he would have driven away with me.”

“He chased you,” Matt said. “But he didn’t catch you.”

“I dropped my purse. It’s black leather so you’ll have to use a flashlight to find it. And the pages from my notebook went everywhere. I couldn’t hold on. I just ran and I thought I was going to get back to Ona’s, but he used a whip around my ankle and I tripped up.”

Finn took her by the arms and looked into her face. “He what?”

“He flipped a whip thing around my ankle and yanked it to stop me from running.”

Finn rubbed both hands over his face.

“Sampson and his partner are going over the carpark,” Clemens said. “There’s the aid car coming right now.”

The boxy vehicle squealed around to pull up close to Matt’s car.

A medic hopped out, followed by a second one. Both men leaned over, hands on knees and one of them said, “Hold still, Mrs. Duhon.” A good-looking blond kid, he had a reassuring smile on his face.

“She was under that pickup,” Matt said, brushing dirt from her face.

The medic looked at her and his eyes flicked down to her belly. “I don’t know how you managed to get where you were, but you wouldn’t be able to get there again if you wanted to.”

“Don’t bet on it,” she said, laughing weakly. “I’m a talented klutz.”

“Are you in any pain, ma’am?”

“I ache,” she said. “But I’m not really in pain.” Except in her mind. She was so scared.

Officer Sampson’s partner hurried up. “We’re not seeing any purse, or any notepaper sheets,” he said. “Did you hear a vehicle leave, Mrs. Duhon?”

“No. Even if he took my purse, the papers went everywhere. They did, I tell you. Yellow pages—”

“It’s all right,” Matt said quietly. “We’ll have a better look.”

“A Jeep left when I was arriving,” Finn said. “I didn’t recognize who was driving but he honked so he obviously knows me. I’d say the guy didn’t even know anything had happened. How long ago did this man leave, Emma?”

“I’m not sure. I left the restaurant around nine-fifteen. I don’t think the whole thing took long to happen and then everything went quiet. I just stayed under the truck and waited.”

“That’s more than an hour now,” Matt said, looking at his watch. “Which ankle did he get with the whip?” Matt asked.

Emma stuck out the appropriate foot.

Immediately the blond medic examined the skin. He undid her shoe carefully and slid it off, then the sock. “You did mean it hit your ankle? Not somewhere higher?”

“No, my ankle.”

“How long ago was this?” Matt said.

“Forty-five minutes?” Emma said. “I guess. I don’t know.”

“There aren’t any marks,” the medic said.

“It was my foot really, not my ankle.” With difficulty Emma bent over to study her foot. “I’m all muddled.” She looked up. “The marks must have faded.”

She saw the medics glance at each other and suddenly felt angry. “I’m not making this up. I couldn’t come up with something like that if I tried.”

“I’ll ask the questions,” Matt said. “As soon as Mitch gets here and says it’s okay, we’ll move you Emma. I want more blankets, please.”

At that moment, Dr. Mitch Halpern ran up. “Had to park at the side,” he said. “You guys have about filled this place. Hi, Emma. How are you feeling?”

“Great,” she said, wanting only to get into Finn’s car and leave. She could see that Mitch was, as usual, in a track suit and exuding health.

He unzipped his bag and tugged out a stethoscope. “Kneel behind her so she can lean on you and relax,” Mitch said to Finn, hitching the blankets more tightly around her. He listened to her heart and lungs, smiling directly into her eyes as he did so. “Ready to run a marathon,” he said.

Mitch moved on to her belly and Emma held her breath.

“Breathe,” Mitch said, laughing. “We don’t want you to pass out. Junior sounds as good as Mom. Good. I would like you to go over to the clinic so I can take a better look, though, Emma. Best go by aid car.”

“There’s something wrong,” Emma said. “Isn’t there?”

Mitch shook his head emphatically. “If I was worried, I’d say so. I believe in caution.”

“I’ll come with you, cher,” Finn said. “There’s nothing to worry about. This is my baby, too, and I want to know both of you are perfect.”