Darius tried to imagine the size of Scarlet Springs PD. How many officers did it take to patrol a single square mile? That’s what Scarlet Springs was—one square mile surrounded by reality. They couldn’t possibly have the budget or the staff to run a security detail. “If they can’t manage it, we’ll find another way.”
Chiago waved. “I need to go. Good to meet you, Silva.”
He jogged to his vehicle, climbed in, and drove away.
Darius walked to the spot where the vehicle had struck Ms. Dillon’s bicycle and looked over the edge. Bark was missing from the trunk of the nearest tree, a red reflector lying in the duff, lots of boot prints in the earth. He climbed down, retrieved the reflector, looked up from the area where he believed Ms. Dillon must have landed.
Die, bitch!
That’s what the attackers had shouted.
Had they believed they’d killed her? Had it been their intent to kill her?
Regardless, she’d been lucky to survive.
He climbed back up to the road, reflector in hand. “You told me earlier that you’ve kept this from the media.”
“Sasha is a rock star in the climbing world. People all over the world follow her online. I knew that once this news got out, Scarlet would be overrun, and this site would be a tourist spot. I thought it would be good to get a jump on the investigation without a throng of people standing around us taking photos.”
Darius hadn’t realized rock climbers had that kind of fan base. “Good thinking.”
They waited until a truck had passed and then walked back to Deputy Marcs’ service vehicle, buckled up, and headed back into town.
Deputy Marcs glanced at him. “Where would you go from here?”
“The vehicle is probably your best lead.”
Deputy Marcs slowed at the roundabout. “We’re already pursuing that.”
“Apart from that, your best bet is to interview her about stalkers and past and present boyfriends. I would also comb through her social media and emails looking for threats.”
“It’s hard to imagine that anyone would want to hurt Sasha. Everyone loves her.”
“Apparently not everyone.”
Chapter 3
Sasha accepted Ellie’s help getting out of bed. They wanted her to walk every so often to prevent pneumonia and blood clots. “Can you make sure I’m covered?”
“Sure thing.” Ellie leaned over, examined Sasha’s rearview. “You’re good. You won’t be mooning anyone in the hallway.”
“Thanks.” Holding onto the IV pole with her good hand, Sasha walked slowly toward the door, Ellie’s arm around her shoulder.
“Tell me if you start to feel dizzy, okay? I don’t want you fainting on me.”
Sasha nodded, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror above her sink as she passed. She stopped, stared. There were scratches and bruises on her right cheek, and she had a black eye and a swollen lip, probably from hitting the ground.
“That’s one heck of a shiner.” Ellie gave her shoulder a squeeze. “Those scratches and bruises will heal.”
Sasha didn’t mind. “It makes me look like a badass.”
“You are a badass.”
They left her darkened room and entered the sunny hallway, where dozens of bouquets adorned the countertops that surrounded the nurses station—roses, lilies, delphiniums, chrysanthemums, dahlias, and carnations in a riot of colors.
“Wow!”
Ellie laughed. “I wasn’t kidding.”
“It smells like roses.”
“We’ll walk to the end of the hallway and back, okay?”
“Okay.”
The hallway seemed terribly long to Sasha. She had climbed El Capitan in under six hours this past summer, almost breaking the women’s speed record, but now the end of the hall seemed impossibly far away.
“I feel so weak.”
“That’s partly the morphine and the anesthesia in your system. You’re doing great. One step at a time.”
Malachi, one of the ER docs and another Team member, stepped out of the elevator a few feet ahead of them wearing green surgical scrubs, his shoulder-length blond hair tied back in a ponytail. “Hey, Sasha, you’re just the person I came to see. I’ll take over, Ellie.”
Ellie patted Sasha’s back. “You’re in good hands.”
“Hey, Mal.” Sasha was happy to see him. “Thank you for your help yesterday.”
“I’m glad I was able to be there.” His ER schedule meant that he missed a lot of rescues. “How are you feeling?”
“Sore. It hurts to breathe. I keep forgetting stuff.”
“I’m not surprised. You suffered some pretty serious trauma.”
“I never thought the Team would have to rescue me.”
“It gave us all a shock when Megs paged us. ‘Sasha hit by car near Caribou turnoff.’” Malachi shook his head. “Megs is usually all-business on site, but she was pretty shaken up. She let Mitch run the debriefing when we got back to The Cave.”
Sasha stopped and gaped at Malachi. “She did?”
“She was too upset to handle it herself. She barely said a word.”
The thought put a lump in Sasha’s throat. Megs was known for being levelheaded, especially in a crisis. When Mitch had been gravely injured last fall and lay in a coma in ICU, she’d held herself together so well that Sasha thought she must be made of steel.
Then Sasha had to ask. “Have they found them—the guys who did this?”
“Not yet, but they’re working on it.”
Sasha couldn’t help the sick way her pulse picked up at this news.
Malachi motioned toward the chair at the end of the hall. “Sit. Rest for a minute.”
Sasha took the last few steps and sat, dread knotting her stomach.
Mal sat beside her, his brown eyes filled with compassion. “I know that’s not what you wanted to hear. Deputies found the vehicle abandoned in the parking area across from Boulder Falls. The sheriff brought in some big-city detective to help. He used to hunt down celebrity stalkers in LA or something.”
“Really?” Some of Sasha’s dread faded.
“People in this town care about you. Hell, Sasha, the whole world cares.”
But Sasha knew that wasn’t true. Like any woman in the public eye, she had her share of haters, and some of them were scary.
Mal stood. “Let’s get you back to bed. How’s your pain?”
She gritted her teeth as she got to her feet.
“That bad, huh? Yeah, broken ribs suck.”
They slowly walked back to her room, where Mal helped her into bed.
“I’ll check with Ellie about your next dose of pain meds. They’re hoping to discharge you tomorrow. Megs and Nicole are organizing meals and helping with shopping and housework. I’m afraid the good people of Scarlet are going to drive you crazy once you get out of here. Enjoy the quiet while you can.”
That made Sasha laugh—bringing instant regret. “Oh! Ow!”
“I’ll ask about those drugs. Rest now.” Mal turned toward the door.
“Mal?”
He faced her once again. “Yeah?”