Page 39 of The Killer She Knew

“The son of a bitch clocked me with one of those mason jars.” Ford tested the contusion beside his left eye, coming away with watery blood. “Must’ve gotten away while I was trying to figure out which way was up. You didn’t see him escape?”

“No.” Leigh couldn’t help but search the depths underneath them. Tried to pick out the shape of her attacker beneath the surface but was met with only darkness.

He was right before. Of course he was right. But the idea of losing yet another person she cared about had taken hold. Her brother, her father, her mother, Dean, Elyse. They’d all left her to fight alone. And now she’d almost lost Ford. Leigh tried to control the tremors coursing through her body. From adrenaline, nearly dying, or another round of hypothermia, she didn’t know. Her teeth chattered. “Thank you.”

“You’re bleeding.” He pointed the flashlight at her exposed forearm, rivulets of blood snaking along her skin. The cut across her palm could get infected if she wasn’t treated soon. The marshal grabbed for her elbow, guiding her back the way they’d come. “Come on. We gotta get you out of here.”

“We can’t leave.” Leigh tightened her hold on the exposed pipe overhead, shaking her head as if that would make a convincing argument. “Not without the body. It’s… it’s floating around the ceiling. We can’t leave without it.”

Her strength was waning. She couldn’t stop shaking. The past few minutes blurred into fragments. Why couldn’t she feel her palm? Shock. This was shock.

“Some asshole just tried to kill you, and you want to go back in there for a dead guy who might not have anything to do with this case?” Ford tightened his grip on her. Almost painful. “We’ll send someone else. You’re not going to make it.”

“I’m fine.” Now if she could stop shaking to make that a little more convincing. Leigh tried to take a full breath, but she suddenly forgot how to breathe. She had to snap out of… whatever this was. They needed that body. Shifting her grip, she moved to descend back into the depths. “I can do it.”

“Damn it. No, you can’t.” Ford pulled her against the hard muscle of his chest, keeping her head above water. “Can’t believeI’m saying this, but I’ll do it. To be clear, is this really what homicide investigators have to go through to solve a case?”

“Remind me… to tell you about the time I had to walk through a wall of spiderwebs to get to a crime scene,” she said.

Ford pointed a strong index finger at her. “Stay here. If you move, you’ll be the next body I drag out of here. Got it?”

Leigh nodded. Because that was all she could do.

In seconds, the marshal was gone. His flashlight beam wavered before extinguishing completely as he entered the room. One minute. Two.

Was the water churning faster or was that her brain trying to stay awake? Her grip slipped from the pipe above, and her head dipped beneath the surface. Weightless and a little tired. Okay, a lot tired. Her heartbeat sounded… off. Far away and slow. Like it couldn’t keep up with the rest of her.

But then Ford was there. Pulling her up. Leading her down the corridor. She used him to get her balance, and right then, he felt so much… bigger than she remembered. Strong hands kept her upright. She only had a second to wonder how he was dragging a body behind them and simultaneously keeping her on her feet. Her head rolled back on her shoulders.

“Stay with me,” he said.

A rectangular white light assaulted her vision, blurring his features. Growing bigger. Leigh stumbled against the stairs leading into Thompson Hall’s lobby, her face pressed against the cement.

“Leigh?” A flurry of sound and motion added extra strain on her brain, but Ava’s voice reached over it all. “Leigh!”

The black spiderwebs were back. Pulling her under.

TWENTY-FOUR

Durham, New Hampshire

Thursday, October 10

1:39 p.m.

“Why isn’t she waking up?”

Ava. She’d know that voice anywhere. Though the worry was new. Leigh wasn’t sure she’d ever heard it before now.

“Give her a few minutes.” Another voice she was supposed to recognize. Ford? “She’s been through a lot, but she’ll come around. Your mom is strong.”

“She’s not my mom.” There was the fifteen-year-old Leigh knew and loved.

Intense aches closed in around her throat as she swallowed. Something moldy and acidic lodged at the base of her esophagus. Oh, hell. Had she swallowed some of the green slime in those mason jars? Gross. The thought was enough to turn Leigh onto her side and force her stomach into a heave. Pinpricks pinched her palm. She could only imagine the kind of damage thirty-year-old botulism could cause.

“There you go.” Pressure circled into her back. “Just breathe.”

She summoned the energy to crack her eyes.

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