Sheltering Dunes

Chapter Thirty-one

Allie rolled over and looked at the clock for the third time in an hour.

“What’s the matter?” Ash asked.

“I guess I’m just wound up. Can’t sleep.”

“Come here.” Ash pulled Allie down into the crook of her arm, nestled Allie’s head against her shoulder, and slowly stroked her back. “Big day, long night. Takes a while to come down.”

Allie pillowed her cheek against Ash’s breast and closed her eyes. Her mind wouldn’t shut off. She kept thinking about José Ramirez and his genuine confusion over some of the questions she had asked him. “I don’t think the guy we picked up tonight was hanging around to go after Mica again. I think he was trying to figure out how to get out of town and got sicker before he could manage to leave. Why else would he risk going to the clinic?”

“Because he’s a dumb fuck?”

“Oh, that’s him, but still. He’s street-smart. He had to know he was taking a big risk seeking medical attention.”

“What did Tory say about his condition?”

“He’s not quite sick enough to need hospitalization, but he was headed there without the antibiotics she pumped into him. She said he would’ve felt pretty bad and probably wouldn’t have been able to drive even if he’d had a car. So far there’s no sign of one. The only other way off-Cape would be the bus, unless he was really dumb and tried the airport.” Allie snuggled closer, sliding her thigh over Ash’s. “He might have been afraid someone would realize there was something wrong with him if he had to spend hours cooped up with a lot of people.”

“That all makes sense. So what’s bothering you?”

“I think us picking him up tonight was a lucky break. We were looking for someone after Mica, and we know he was the one who assaulted her in the alley. Feels too easy.”

“And?”

Allie shifted, the uneasy feeling prickling up her spine again. “Maybe he’s not alone.”

“It’s been a few days since he tried for Mica, and you haven’t seen any sign of a partner, have you?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one.”

“Agreed. You haven’t aborted the plan, right? You’re still watching her, still on the lookout for someone making a move against her?”

“Yeah,” Allie said. “We’re still watching her.”

Ash tugged Allie on top of her and cradled her ass in both hands. “So what do you want to do differently?”

“Nothing, really.” Allie sighed and braced her arms on the bed. “You think I’m obsessing, don’t you?”

Ash kissed her. “No, babe, you’re a good cop and your instincts are telling you something’s off. I say listen to your gut.”

“Let me just run a quick status check.” Allie rolled away, switched on the bedside lamp, and gripped her cell phone. “Sorry, I won’t be long.”

She hit the speed dial for Smith and waited out ten rings, the prickly feeling getting sharper with each ring. Smith always answered by the third ring, and when she got voice mail she hung up. She punched in Mitchell’s number.

“Mitchell,” Dell said instantly.

“What’s going on there?”

“I’m still on Bradford, covering the back. Everything appears quiet. Why?”

“I can’t raise Smith.”

“I just talked to him ten minutes ago. He’s due for another check-in in twenty.”

“He wouldn’t leave his post.”

“Maybe his cell isn’t working. The reception up here sucks, I have to tell you.”

“Maybe, but I don’t like it. I’m coming over.”

“All right. I’ll try Smith again. If I don’t get him, I’ll notify the sheriff and go check on him.”

“I’ll be there in three minutes.” Allie jumped out of bed and threw on clothes. She hated coincidences.

*

Mica sat up in bed, rousing Flynn from a light doze.

“What is it?” Flynn asked.

“I don’t know, probably nothing. I just thought I heard…” Mica pressed her hand to the center of Flynn’s chest. “Stay here. You have your phone?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll be right back.”

Mica, her figure illuminated by the glow of moonlight, jumped out of bed and yanked on sweatpants. She slowly slid open the bedside drawer and removed a long, thin object. The switchblade snapped open like a shard of lightning cleaving the night sky. “Someone’s outside.”

Flynn followed, grabbed her shirt and pants off the floor, and threw them on. Her cell was in her pants pocket. “I’m calling nine-one-one.”

Mica disappeared into the other room, and Flynn’s stomach lurched. Mica had lived with the expectation of death so long she was fearless. Flynn went after her, sliding around the corner into a room lit nearly as bright as day by a blood moon. Flynn thumbed the digits on her phone. “Mica?”

The front door swung open and a shadowy figure filled the doorway.

“Flynn, get dow—”

Lightning flared. Thunder cracked. The air burned with the acrid scent of fire and blood. Mica was gone.

“Mica!” Flynn rushed forward, tripped, and went down on her knees. Lightning flashed again, red and hot this time, like a meteor shooting in the dark. Flynn’s head rang with the roar of thunder.

A tinny voice said What is your emergency? What is your emergency? Where is your location? What is…

Flynn couldn’t see Mica. She fumbled for a lamp. If she made herself a target, she didn’t care. She needed to see Mica. Shouts came from somewhere close by, then a bright light struck her in the face, making her blink. Mica lay on her back, her lips parted slightly, her eyes calm. Blood trickled in delicate lacey patterns from a dime-sized hole just under her left breast. Not very much blood at all. Why was she so pale, then?

“Flynn,” Mica gasped.

Flynn’s brain threatened to shut down. Agonizing fear ripped through her. Mica shivered, her eyes starting to close.

“Mica!” Flynn’s shout rang hollowly, a solitary note echoing inside a glass chamber.

“I’m sorry,” Mica breathed, her voice so faint it was as if she spoke in a dream.

“No. You’re fine. You did fine.” Flynn saw herself moving like a player on a ghostly stage. Her hand came down over the hole in Mica’s chest. Warm, thick crimson liquid seeped between her fingers. Mica looked so calm. So pale. The shouts grew louder, the words a tangle of indecipherable syllables. “Help will be here soon. Baby, you’re going to be all right.”

“Hurt?” A sliver of blood trickled from the corner of Mica’s mouth.

“No. Mica, please. Please. Don’t talk. Just rest. You’ll be all right.”

“Sorry.” Mica smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Flynn choked. Her throat was so tight. “Sweetheart, I love you.”

“Flynn,” Mica whispered, her lids fluttering.

“Yes, baby, I’m here.”

Figures raced by them. A voice yelled Clear. All Flynn saw was Mica. Mica was everything.

“Think I need”—Mica’s smile faltered and she grasped Flynn’s arm—“a priest.”

“I’m here,” Flynn murmured. “I’m here, baby.”

Flynn kept one palm pressed to the hole in Mica’s chest where Mica’s blood pumped out with each heartbeat, crossed herself, and signed the cross on Mica’s forehead. Mica’s eyes were all she saw, open and trusting and beautiful. She put her faith in Mica’s eyes and prayed.

“Almighty God, look on this your servant, lying in great weakness…”

“EMTs are on their way.” Allie’s voice.

“…and comfort her with the promise of life everlasting…”

Dave said, “Got no pulse.”

“From all evil, from all sin, from all tribulation…”

“Move over.” Allie pressed both hands to the center of Mica’s chest.

“…by the Coming of the Holy Spirit…”

“We need more help.”

“That it may please you to deliver the soul of your servant…”

Reese said, “Bri’s bringing Tory.”

“…mercifully to pardon all her sins.”

“We need her STAT,” Dave shouted.

“Our Father, who art…”

“One…two…three…”

“…forgive us our trespasses…”

“Dave? Where are we?” Tory’s voice.

“…as we forgive those who trespass against us…”

“She’s bleeding out.”

“…lead us not into temptation…”

“We need blood.”

“…deliver us from evil…”

“I’m O-neg. Take mine.”

“…for Thine is the Kingdom, and the Power…”

“I’ve never done a battlefield transfusion.”

“…and the Glory, forever and ever…”

“I have.”

“Amen.” Flynn closed her eyes and held Mica’s hand to her lips. Please, baby. Please don’t leave me.