Page 57 of The Familiar Stranger

I needed to call Maddie.

I reached out to one of the techs. “Can I have my phone?”

“You won’t be needing that, Ms. Monroe.”

“Huh?”

I turned my head.

Terrence was standing in front of me, his gun aimed straight at my head. He must have come full circle, and the cops werethere, nothere…

He waved the techs away, and they backed up, hands raised.

What else could they do?

I shut my eyes, prepared for the end—my end.

And then a long, wild scream rang through the air.

What the?—?

I opened one eye.

Maddie was on Terrence’s back, pulling his hair, ripping at his eyes and mouth. He bucked and twisted, but she wouldn’t let go. He tried to turn the gun on her, holding it high, then low, trying to get the proper angle. But she knocked it from his hand. Then she did something I didn’t expect, even for her. She jerked her head to the side and bit his ear.

The shock from my bullet wound was replaced by the shock of seeing my best friend riding this man’s back like a wicked rodeo queen.

Terrence ran in a circle, bending to swipe at the fallen gun.

He missed, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cane. I scrambled toward it and grabbed the tiger’s-eye knob with one hand. Rising to my feet, I tossed the cane in the air and caught it for a better grip. Then I ran straight for him, swinging back and then upward, right between his legs.

CHAPTER38

Maddie stayed with me in the ambulance as we made our way to the hospital, where they checked me over and bandaged me up good. I refused to spend the night, reassuring the staff that I was in capable hands with my medical-examiner friend. We also gave our statements to the police, but as always, there would be more questions to answer and revelations to share in the coming days.

On the way back to the Marshall House, I asked Maddie the burning question that had been swirling in my brain.

“I didn’t get to hear your entire statement,” I said. “How did you know?”

One side of her mouth quirked up in a lopsided smile. “How did I know where you were? That you were in danger?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I never hung up,” she said and withdrew my phone from her pocket.

I hadn’t even realized I didn’t have my phone on me.

“And neither did you,” she continued. “Your phone was on the whole time. Look.”

She showed me the length of our last phone call.

“I knew something was wrong when I heard all the scuffling and then his voice. It was enough to know you needed help. I called the police, told them you were in danger somewhere on the beach.”

“They found me just in time.”

“They sure did. And I caught a ride with my motorcycle friend?—”

“Wait. You have a motorcycle friend in Savannah?”

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