Melanie Vargas 01 Most Wanted by Michele Martinez

Author:Michele Martinez [Martinez, Michele]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-06-23T20:08:49.040000+00:00

MELANIE CLIMBED ONTO THE SLOWLY REVOLVING platform and approached the silver concept car, lit so brilliantly by overhead spotlights that it seemed to exude a supernatural force. Jasmine lay on her back on the car’s broad hood, staring numbly at the ceiling turning many stories above her. The stretchy blue leather of her pantsuit still hugged every curve of her perfect body, but her slender limbs were oddly twisted—splayed out, rigid, her feet in their stiletto-heeled boots pointing inward. Beads of sweat glistened on the heavy foundation makeup that coated her forehead.

“Just hang on, sweetie, help is on the way,” Melanie said softly. Jasmine’s hand hung off the side of the car. Melanie reached for it, squeezing the long, slender fingers, already cold and clammy to the touch. Feeling the slightest return of pressure from Jasmine’s fingers, Melanie stood on tiptoe and leaned forward.

“Do you want to say something?” she asked.

Jasmine’s lips worked, but no sound emerged at first. Melanie leaned closer, placing her ear against Jasmine’s mouth.

“What is it? Tell me.”

“Des-tiny,” Jasmine whispered hoarsely. Her daughter. She was thinking about her daughter, just as Melanie would if she were about to die.

Two paramedics carrying a folded stretcher made their way through the gawking crowd.

“EMS! Over here, over here!” Melanie screamed.

“Somebody move her?” the taller paramedic, a commanding black woman with a powerful voice, asked, climbing up onto the platform. Her name tag read B. JONES. “The call said assault victim on the mezzanine level.”

“That’s somebody else,” Melanie said. “Take care of this woman first. She fell from that catwalk up there.”

“Two of ’em? Jesus! Miguel, call for backup while I get the collar on her,” Jones instructed her companion as she removed a large neck brace from her satchel. “Decerebrate posturing, indicates brain damage. We need to get her in right now!”

Melanie jumped out of Jones’s way, praying something could still be done. But Jasmine expelled a long, sighing breath—and then stopped breathing.

“Shit, went apneic on me!” Jones shouted to her colleague. Clambering onto the hood of the car, she began administering CPR as Jasmine’s eyes stared unseeing at the light streaming in from above.

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