The Stranger You Seek - By Amanda Kyle Williams Page 0,118
that night on the interstate when you went off the road, I thought my heart was gonna stop.”
We were standing near the swing set on the soccer field behind the school. Lights glared in the houses on Inman Drive and Poplar Circle, the two streets that bordered the school. It was an old neighborhood and full now of young families and renovated homes and new money. I saw a car pull alongside the park and cut its lights. Teenagers come here to make out. People park in the school lot at dusk and let their dogs run on the soccer field.
He turned and faced me, held both my hands. “I just always thought there’d be time. But that night I started to think more about how short time is. I’m a true jackass, Keye. I’ve waited too long to tell you that I love you.”
I looked at the lines at the corners of his eyes, the ones that always made him look as if he was about to laugh, so familiar to me, so comfortable. I looked at all that thick silver and black hair and those wide shoulders and realized I wasn’t numb anymore. Not even a little. I was on fire for him, this man who knew me so well and loved me in spite of it.
“When I called that night and Jo answered your phone …,” I started.
“I knew you were jealous as hell,” he said with a smirk.
“No way was I jealous.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “And maybe Jodie Foster will just walk right up to us right now, right here in the friggin’ park.”
“And? Where’s the part where she gives us a lap dance or shakes her rear end or something? I love that part.”
Rauser looked at me as if I’d just pulled down my panties in church. “It’s Jodie Foster, for Christ’s sake, Keye. Have a little respect.”
I leaned into him and we laughed. He wrapped his arms around me and I buried my face in his chest. He smelled like cold air and aftershave, and it crossed my mind that I hadn’t seen him light even one cigarette all day.
I heard the tiniest sound come from him, just a small oh, so faint, like a puff of air. I looked up at him and saw the oddest expression: shock, bewilderment.
“Rauser? What’s wrong?”
His brow furrowed and he took his hand away from his chest, held it out, palm up. Our eyes met just for a split second of recognition and horror. Blood. Jesus Christ! Blood! What the hell?
The second shot was just as silent and swift and pitiless, and ripped into Rauser’s temple. His legs folded and he fell. I dropped on top of him.
Oh God, oh God, oh God
I yanked off my scarf and coat with my right hand and found my cell phone with my left, used my thumb to punch in 911, then pressed my coat over the wound on Rauser’s chest and used my body to apply pressure.
“Rauser, talk to me. Rauser, can you hear me? Stay with me. Dammit, stay with me.”
There was too much blood. It was coming so hard it was pooling before soaking into the dry ground. Please God don’t let him die I’ll never drink again I’ll never complain I’ll never fight with my mother
I scanned the street while I lifted his head just enough to wrap my scarf around it. My heart was slamming against his weak pulse, his blood seeping into my coat, my skin.
“Nine-one-one, what is the nature and location of your emergency?”
“Officer down.” I think I shouted but I can’t swear to it. Time and sound and light, it all seemed to go haywire. I could hear my own breathing, like being underwater in a bathtub. “Winnona Park Elementary. The playground behind the school,” I told the operator.
My God, we’re in the playground. His arms were around me just a moment ago. Oh God—
“Unidentified shooter,” I said. My chest felt like a pallet of bricks had dropped on me. I was having trouble breathing normally. “The officer is Lieutenant Aaron Rauser, APD Homicide. Oh God, he’s barely breathing. Rauser, stay with me.”
I put more pressure on his chest. My scarf was soaked and crimson. The blood kept coming. The operator was trying to keep me on the phone. She wanted to know what I’d seen. She wanted to know my name. She needed me to be clear with the details. Was she sending officers into a dangerous situation?