Protecting Her Child by Debby Giusti

Author:Debby Giusti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2009-04-08T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

Pulse pounding, Pete navigated the restful historic district at mach speed. The brakes screeched in protest as he turned onto Sheila’s street and swerved to the curb in front of the three-story home. Leaping to the sidewalk, he took the stairs to the front porch two at a time and reached for the brass knob.

The door swung open.

Sheila lay on the Oriental carpet in the entryway. A pool of blood soaked the rug, turning the elaborate pattern a monochromatic magenta. The smell of copper filled the hallway. Her face was pale as death. Her arms lay at her side, hands curled inward.

He stooped to touch her neck. A pulse. Faint, but she was alive.

“Sheila, it’s Pete.”

Her eyes flickered open. “Mere…dith?”

“Where is she, Sheila?” He lowered his face to hers, hoping to hear her response.

Her eyes closed.

He nudged her shoulder. “Sheila?”

Blood oozed from a gash in her side. He grabbed a woolen throw from a nearby chair and bundled it around the wound to stop the bleeding. A makeshift tourniquet at best, but the flow of blood eased.

Stumbling to his feet, he ran to the study.

“Meredith!” he screamed.

Grabbing the house phone, he punched 911 and raced on to the living room.

The doors to the garden stood open.

He flicked his gaze over the well-maintained courtyard, searching for some sign of her.

The emergency response operator’s voice sounded in his ear.

“There’s been a break-in,” he hastened to explain. “A woman’s bleeding heavily from what appears to be a knife wound to her right side.” Pete gave the address. “She’s got a pulse, but it’s faint. Send an ambulance and the police. Tell them to hurry.”

“How would you describe her condition, sir?”

Pete didn’t have time for this. He had to find Meredith. “Look, lady, she’s barely alive. I need an ambulance and police now.”

He threw the phone onto a nearby couch and ran up the stairs to the second floor. The room where Meredith had slept was empty.

Next he checked the master suite, then Brice’s old room and the fourth bedroom where Pete had stayed. The deadly silence heightened the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

Mouth dry, he flew down the stairs to the sunroom.

A circular table next to one of the overstuffed chairs lay overturned. A lamp had shattered on the hardwood floor. Spying something under the coffee table, he stooped and retrieved the pocketknife Meredith had used last night.

Clutching it in his hand, he retraced his steps to the entry where Sheila lay and knelt next to her.

Her eyes blinked open.

“Hold on, Sheila. Help’s on the way.”

“At…lan…ta,” she whispered, her voice raspy.

“What?”

“Two men. They…they…” She licked her lips. “Buckhead.”

The trendy, upscale area north of downtown. “Is that where they’re taking Meredith?”

Sirens sounded in the distance.

“Find…find her.”

Someone shouted. Pete stepped outside. A man ran from the house across the street.

“I phoned Sheila but didn’t get an answer.” Face flushed, a line of sweat spotted the portly neighbor’s upper lip as he climbed the stairs. “When I saw you race from your Jeep, I thought something might be wrong.

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