The Mermaid Murders (The Art of Murder 1) - Page 68

But still. So far so good.

He threw a worried look at the body of the girl which lay tumbled a few feet away. If the floor went, they would lose their crime scene.

Wait.

Did she—?

Had she—?

Jason stared. Her eyes were closed. Her face lifeless. No. Not possible. Was she breathing? He couldn’t tell. For a second he’d thought… No.

Right? He could detect no rise and fall of her chest.

What if she was alive?

Shit. He couldn’t tell. Not from this distance.

He needed to get closer without killing them both.

Jason took another careful step backward.

Again.

Again.

His flashlight beam picked out something pale lying a few inches from her body. Maybe a twig. Maybe a leaf. Maybe…who knew what the hell.

The floor felt more solid—that was probably wishful thinking—or at least had stopped that alarming splintering noise. Jason tried a tentative step to the side. Nothing happened. He stepped closer to the wall. Yes, the floor felt sturdier here.

Cautious step by step he traveled the length of the room along the wall to where Candy lay. Her body did not appear to be bruised and battered like Rebecca’s. She still wore her one piece swimsuit.

Beside her outstretched hand, as though it had fallen from her lifeless fingers, was a pale, round marble.

No. Not a marble. A mermaid.

Jason picked it up—the irregular surface guaranteed no fingerprints would be possible—rolling it gently between his thumb and fingers. It was uncannily familiar to the one Honey had. It even felt familiar to his fingertips.

He glanced at the girl’s body and nearly got the shock of his life. Candy’s eyes were open. Her lips moved soundlessly.

She’s alive.

He dropped the charm in his jeans pocket, bending over her. “Candy? Can you hear me? You’re okay now. You’re safe now. You’re going to be fine.”

He swiftly checked her vitals. Not good. Not good at all. She was dehydrated and in deep shock. On the other hand, she should be dead, so compared to that…

No visible wounds. No bruising around her throat. Her swimsuit was intact. How was it even possible they had got this lucky? That she had got this lucky?

He brushed her hair back from her face. “Candy, can you hear me? Can you tell me who did this to you? Did you get a look at him?”

Her eyes closed again.

“Damn it. Hang on, Candy. We’re going to get you out of here.” Jason jumped to his feet and raised his radio. “West to Kennedy. Come in.”

Kennedy answered at once. “Kennedy. What have you got?”

“She’s here. At the lyceum.”

“Roger. I’ll be there in f—”

Tags: Josh Lanyon The Art of Murder Mystery
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