Читать книгу Trusting The Sheriff - Janice Kay Johnson - Страница 10

Footsteps. Night made murky by filtered light. A stench. Agony in her head.

“Why? Why would you do this?” Angry male voice. She knew it, but her mind wouldn’t quite supply a face or name. “Tell me before—”

Gunfire blasted. Once, twice.

She managed to fumble a hand toward her unsnapped holster. Empty. Why was it empty? She could see booted feet move, the back of someone crouching over—she couldn’t remember who lay still now.

Darkness beckoned and she moaned. When the footsteps approached, it took everything she had to open her eyes a slit. The toes of the boots were inches away. He must be looking down at her.

From somewhere, a voice yelled, “Hey! I called 9-1-1.”

Crack. The impact of the bullet bounced her body on the pavement. Pain blossomed like hot red lava.

I’m dead.

Crack.