She Bleeds Slowly by Georgia Wagner

Author:Georgia Wagner [Wagner, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-06-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

Within the bathroom, the window was smashed. This time, a large amount of glass lay inside the room.

Someone had come along outside and then entered again.

Now it made sense.

Whitney had escaped through one window, found there was no way down, moved along the roof, and entered back into this small, dark bathroom...

And then she'd never left.

Artemis' eyes widened as she spotted the shadowy figure cowering near one of the stalls. Wide eyes stared out at them.

Whitney huddled in the corner, her breath coming in frightened gasps.

"Whitney!" Artemis rushed forward. "FBI! We're FBI!"

Whitney seemed to recognize them both, and she nodded, unable to speak it seemed. Her chest was wrapped in white bandages, and she was wearing a loose hospital gown.

Tears streamed down her face. She managed to stutter the word, "G-g-guns."

"We got them," Forester cut in quickly, his voice low. "They're not going to hurt you. We had them tied up."

Whitney stared in relief, tried to rise to her feet, but then wobbled briefly.

"Are you... are you really FBI?" she asked, leaning against a bathroom wall.

"I am," Forester cut in. "You're looking a bit better."

Whitney winced, still leaning against the stall. She was breathing in and out slowly.

At first, Artemis inched forward, scared the woman might pass out. But then Whitney breathed a bit easier, a hand to her chest.

Artemis glanced over her shoulder nervously.

"We should wait until the police arrive," she whispered.

Forester nodded, keeping the door closed, and bracing his foot against it.

They'd cleared the hospital, but there was no point in taking risks. And for the moment, Whitney looked as if she was on enough pain meds to manage.

"I'm... I'm recovering," she whispered slowly. She grimaced. "The morphine is doing its job." She snorted. "Not the strongest thing I've ever tried, but still..."

She tried to chuckle but then winced.

Forester gave an appreciative nod at the humor in the face of pain, but Artemis was frowning, her mind racing.

"Did you... have you ever tried fentanyl?"

Whitney paused, wincing. She glanced between the two FBI agents.

"We aren't DEA," Artemis said quickly. "We don't care what you ingest. I just need to know if you had any idea that Marcy Thomas was on fentanyl."

Another long pause. Whitney slowly slid, leaning against a paper towel dispenser.

"She was a friend of yours, wasn't she?" Artemis pressed.

Whitney's face was pale, and Artemis wasn't sure if this was due to blood loss or a sudden bout of fear.

She hesitated briefly, then murmured, "Marcy... sometimes liked to party. Why?"

"There was a special blend of fentanyl in her system. A hybrid drug. Do you know what she was on? Who provided it to her?"

Whitney shook her head firmly.

Forester cut in now. "Are you sure you don't know who did any of this?"

Whitney shook her head adamantly. Her voice seemed to be weakening now, and she was leaning back.

Artemis could hear sirens now. Could hear voices coming from further down the halls.

But her attention was fixated on Whitney. The young woman gathered herself and said, "It's like I told the officers.

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