Page 34 of Healing the Heart

“Can this night get any worse?” she whispered, her trembling hands instinctively rising to cover her face. At the last instant, she halted, letting out a whimper at the sight of the dried blood.

“Even if we didn’t need to bring it in for the crime lab to examine,” the detective continued, “it’s not drivable in its current condition.”

Wasn’t that just great? What did she do while they had it in custody? There was the bus, but that wasn’t happening after tonight. No way. No how!

She could Uber, but that wasn’t cheap.

“I don’t have a husband, or any family in LA. It’s just me,” she admitted, which was rather pathetic.

Their brief, meaningful glance spoke volumes, leaving her no doubt about the answer to her next question, which she blurted out with mounting panic. “I’m in danger, aren’t I? He’s going to come after me.”

The detective gave it to her honestly. “He saw your face and knows where you work. And then there’s his threat.”

Fiona wrapped her arms around her middle, hugging herself as she rocked a bit. What was she supposed to do?

“You’ve given us a description, and we have some good leads. Do you have somewhere to stay, preferably out of town, while we work this?”

She could stay with her mother in San Diego, but she’d almost rather take her chances with the murderer. Besides, she couldn’t simply uproot her life and leave. She had a job and bills to pay.

“Can’t you offer me protection?” she asked them.

The older cop shook his head. “Unfortunately, we’re not staffed for personal protection, even when it’s a prime witness.”

Detective Owens opened his notebook again and jotted something down. He tore out the page and passed it to her. She grimaced as soon as she took it because the dried blood on her hands transferred to the white paper.

“That’s the address of a security firm I moonlight with occasionally. They do home security, personal protection, and investigations. They’re pricey, but occasionally take pro bono cases for vulnerable clients.”

“That’s me. Fiona Vulnerable,” she replied with a nervous, humorless laugh.

“I’ll call and let them know you’ll be coming in. They’re good and are your best bet for staying safe until we find this guy.”

“Thanks,” she said, feeling more alone than she had since leaving home when she was seventeen.

“If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll take you home after I’m finished here,” the detective offered.

“Fiona. Oh my god! What’s happening?”

Stunned and looking as freaked out as she felt, John stood outside the elevator doors, taking in the organized chaos of the crime scene.

She rose and took a step toward him then everything came out in a rush. “I walked out to two thugs shouting. It turned physical, and one stabbed the other. Now, they’re impounding my car.”

His stunned gaze swept over her. As if he heard none of what she said, he asked, “Is that your blood?”

“No. It’s his.” She waved at where the ME was loading up the body.

“Fuck me,” he breathed.

“I should have waited for you to walk me out.”

“Ya think?”

“Could I trouble you for a ride home?”

“Of course it’s no trouble. My god, Fi. You must have been scared out of your mind.”

“It was the scariest, most horrifying few minutes of my life.”

The detective passed her his card. “I’ll need you to come in to file a report, Miss Delacour. And make sure you contact Rossi, asap.”

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