Agent Undercover. Lynette EasonЧитать онлайн книгу.
He would do whatever he had to do to save hers.
Sounds rushed at him, and he realized people were gathering around them in a crush. “Hey, move back and let her breathe, will you?”
Several people complied. But the concerned conversations buzzed around him like a swarm of bees.
Startled, he watched his nephew reach out and touch the woman’s hand then slip his small fingers into her palm.
Emotion gripped Dylan’s throat and wonder exploded through him. But he didn’t have to time to think about what Will’s reaching out to her meant.
Dylan wanted to examine the wound on the back of her head, but didn’t want to turn her neck. He ran his hands down her arms, his gaze once again drawn to Will’s small hand in hers. Then back to business. Scrapes, bruises, a couple of gashes but nothing broken. He repeated his inspection on her legs. Same story.
His heart started to slow. No broken bones.
He glanced at her white face. No doubt along with the bad concussion, she’d have an even worse headache. Hopefully, that would be the extent of her injuries except for a few bumps and bruises.
The sirens continued to grow closer until the ambulance came into view.
A man stood in the street directing traffic. Two police cars pulled up and one of the officers took over. The other approached, a frown on his face. Spying Dylan, recognition dawned. “What happened, Doc?”
“Hey, Franco. She saved Will’s life and got hit by a car for her trouble. The car kept going. Never put on the brakes, I don’t think.”
“Anybody get a plate?”
“I don’t know. I know I didn’t.”
“I’m going to start taking statements.”
Dylan acknowledged him with a nod and felt for her pulse one more time.
The paramedics pushed their way through the crowd, and Dylan recognized Lisa Bell and her partner, Sam Clark. Dylan told them, “We need a neck collar. She wasn’t wearing a helmet and she took a hard hit to the head. Her pulse is steady, and there are no broken bones that I could feel.”
The paramedics got to work on her. Soon she was ready for transport, and Dylan watched them load her up to be transported to the hospital about thirty minutes away in Bryson City.
Turning, he asked, “Who is she? Does anyone know?”
“Her name’s Paige Worth.”
Dylan eyed the man who’d spoken. Principal Tom Bridges. “Does she have any family that we can contact?”
Tom frowned and gave a shrug. “I don’t know. I’ll see who she listed on her application as an emergency contact. Today was supposed to be her first day on the job. She’s my new guidance counselor.”
The ambulance screamed off, and Dylan picked Will up to hold him and hopefully offer the child some comfort. “Okay.” He studied his nephew. “I think Will is okay, but I’m going to take him to the hospital just to make sure, maybe have a couple of X-rays. I’ll check on Ms. Worth while I’m there.” He pulled a card out of his wallet and handed it to the man. “I know you can get my number from Will’s file, but this will be easier. Please call and let me know who her contact person is.” Dylan swallowed. “I want to talk to him or her.”
Compassion lit the man’s eyes. “Sure.”
Dylan headed back to his house for his car, feeling Will’s slight weight in his arms. Giving thanks for the life he held, a life that was almost cut short, he settled Will in his booster seat and wondered how he’d ever be able to pay Ms. Worth back for her selfless deed. He decided he’d pick up her totaled bike and keep it for her in case she wanted to salvage it for parts. He made a quick call to Principal Bridges, who assured Dylan that he’d hold the bike for him.
He started the car and pulled into the street. “Hey, Will, you all right, bud?”
Will simply met his eyes in the rearview mirror. Dylan sighed, wondering when the child would decide to speak. But even Will’s counselor couldn’t offer him a time frame. She just said they had to give him his space and time to heal.
Dylan noticed the car on his rear bumper. A car that looked suspiciously like the one that had almost hit Will. Dylan pressed the brake and slowed, giving the car the opportunity to go around him.
Instead, the vehicle slowed to keep the same amount of distance between them.
His pulse sped up and he swallowed hard.
Was he being followed?
Dylan put on his blinker and moved into the right-hand lane.
The car behind him did the same.
Sweat pooled on his forehead as Dylan considered his options. He took a right at the next block.
So did his tail.
The dark tint to the windshield prevented him from getting a good look at the driver, but it was definitely a male. He glanced at Will. The boy was oblivious to the possible danger, simply gazing out his window, trusting his uncle knew what he was doing.
Dylan flexed his fingers on the wheel and made the next turn that would take him to the police station two blocks away.
And the car behind him sped away.
There was no way to get a license number. He pulled into the police station parking lot and turned the car off.
Pulling a napkin from the glove compartment, Dylan wiped the sweat off his face and gathered his thoughts.
Should he go in and report the incident?
What incident? he mocked himself. Someone followed you a little too close, then turned off.
But the car resembled the one from this morning.
“It was white.”
Will looked at him with a frown, and Dylan realized he’d spoken the words aloud. With a sigh and a prayer, Dylan turned the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot. His eyes swept the surrounding area and didn’t notice the white car waiting on him.
The tension in his shoulders released its grip and he relaxed a bit. “Sorry for the winding route, Will. I just had to check something out.”
The little boy didn’t respond other than to rub his eyes as though tired.
Dylan may have decided not to report the incident, but knew he wouldn’t forget it.
Pain. That was her first thought. Her first feeling. Her first moment of awareness.
It felt like shards of glass biting into her skull with relentless determination. Her eyelids fluttered, and she thought she saw someone seated on the chair next to her.
Why was she in bed?
Memories flitted back. Bits and pieces. A little boy. A school. A crosswalk. A speeding car.
And she’d pedaled like a madwoman to dart in front of the car to rescue the child.
A gasp escaped her and she woke a little more. The pain faded to a dull throb. Where was the little boy? Was he all right?
Cool wetness touched her lips, and she jolted to realize how thirsty she was. Greedily, she gulped at the water.
Awareness struggled into full consciousness, and she opened her eyes. Light filtered in around the closed curtains, and she squinted, her head sending warning signals.
Instead of listening, Paige pried her eyes fully open to stare into one of the most beautiful faces she’d ever seen. Aquamarine eyes crinkled at the corners, and full lips curved into a smile. She wanted to respond but was scared the movement would bring back the pounding pain.
The lips spoke. “Hello. Welcome back.”
Another sweet face pushed its way into her