Find Her Alive (Detective Josie Quinn #8) - Lisa Regan Page 0,69

reality was only a matter of seconds. She spun her vehicle around and gunned it, heading back toward the truck. Using the voice command feature in her Ford Escape she dialed Noah. Before he could say anything, she said, “Noah, I think I’ve got him. The Bone Artist.”

“Josie, what? What are you talking—”

“Listen to me, there’s not much time.” She rattled off her location as best she could estimate it. “Looks like a white Chevrolet pickup truck. Older model.”

Before she could say anything else, a man stepped out of the woods and got into the driver’s side of the truck. He didn’t see her. He was tall, maybe six feet, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Brown hair peeked from beneath a baseball cap pulled low over his face. He looked up just before she reached him, and they locked eyes.

“He’s here,” Josie said. “And his face—there’s something—”

The man punched the gas and his truck lurched forward, spraying grass and mud behind it. He aimed directly for her, his front-end plowing into the front passenger’s side of Josie’s car. The impact jarred her, jerking her body to and fro. Her head smacked against the driver’s side window. Stars appeared before her eyes. Her hands clutched the wheel, trying to gain control of her SUV, but she couldn’t. The man continued to accelerate, his truck pushing her car all the way across to the other side of the road. Josie was vaguely aware of the impact as her car was crushed against the guardrail. Metal screamed against metal. The truck kept coming. Her car tipped, rolling down the ravine, glass popping and smashing. Her seat belt tightened across her chest, knocking the air from her lungs momentarily. She landed upside down, her car suspended between two large trees.

Everything around her seemed hazy. The windshield had shattered. Glass was everywhere. She tried to move. Her fingers reached for her seat buckle, punching the button to release her, but it wouldn’t work.

Noah’s voice floated from somewhere inside the vehicle, only adding to her disorientation. “Josie,” he shouted. “Josie! Are you okay? Josie!”

“Acc—accident,” she rasped.

His voice receded after that although she could hear him talking to someone else in the background, barking orders. “Stay where you are,” he said into the phone once more. “Help is on the way.”

Through her disorientation, her mind tried to tell her something very important. He was there. He was close. He tried to kill you. She sucked in a breath and blinked rapidly, setting off a firestorm in her eyeballs. Pricks of pain exploded across her corneas.

“Don’t touch them,” said a male voice as she reached for her eyes.

Panic stiffened every muscle in her body. She couldn’t open her eyes. The pain was too unbearable. She put her hands out as if to ward him off. Her voice was high-pitched when she spoke. “Get away from me. Don’t touch me.”

She sensed him coming closer. There was a grunt and then she felt and heard her door open. Her body recoiled but the man’s voice stayed calm. “You’ve got glass in your eyes,” he said. “Don’t rub them and don’t blink.”

A scream erupted from her body, and her arms and legs flailed when she felt his hands on her, tugging and pulling. Then there was a click and she was in freefall. Seconds later, she landed with a thud on the forest floor. Arms slid under her knees and shoulders and lifted her. Her body jostled against him as he carried her. He froze when Noah’s tinny voice came from above their heads. “Josie! Josie! Talk to me.”

Her body lowered and she felt the ground beneath her once more. She opened one eye slowly in spite of the pain, but he was a blur walking away from her. She tried to stand but dizziness assailed her, and she fell to her knees.

“Wait,” she gasped. “Wait. My sister.”

He stopped but didn’t turn around. Her hands searched for her shoulder holster, tried to remove her gun, but the damn holster wouldn’t unsnap. Or her fingers were shaking too hard. “Where is she?” Josie asked him. “Where’s Trinity?”

No answer. No movement. Her eyes burned.

“Is she still alive?” Josie asked. “Please, tell me if she’s still alive.”

He started walking again. Josie crawled after him, desperate as her only link to her sister receded from view. “Wait,” she screamed, tears streaming down her face, the burning in her corneas an inferno now, her vision a strange, misshapen kaleidoscope. “Take me with you! Take