Black Friday by Alex Kava Read Free Book Online Page B

She was probably lucky to have just one piece of debris stuck inside her.
    She carefully ripped the fabric away from the wound and the sight of her own flesh, purplish-red, raw and torn made her sit back. She leaned her head against the rail, waiting for the nausea to pass. She felt the vibration of the stampede around and under her. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t hear over that buzz and now there was an annoying whirling sound like bursts of wind through a tunnel. She closed her eyes and that’s when she realized it wasn’t wind. It was her own raspy breathing.
    She had to do better than this.
    She needed to get the glass out of her arm.
    Come on, Rebecca. Just pull the damned thing out.
    One, two, three…like a Band-Aid in one quick jerk. But she’d need to stop the bleeding when she pulled out the glass. Her eyes flew open. She’d have to shove something into the hole the glass left in her arm. If not, she’d bleed to death. This was actually good. It made her think through the process. It made her focus.
    She grabbed pieces of her coat that she had ripped away and began peeling out the lining. It’d be cleaner than the outside of the coat. And it was softer.
    “I can help you with that.”
    Rebecca looked up to find a man standing behind her. He wore a cap that read PARAMEDIC but he was in jeans and hiking boots. No uniform. Although she couldn’t really see underneath his winter coat. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder.
    She should have felt saved, rescued. She wouldn’t have to do this herself. But there was something about the way he held the already loaded syringe that didn’t seem quite right.

CHAPTER
13
     
    Omaha, Nebraska
     
    N ick Morrelli was trying to check flights on his smartphone while Christine waited to drive them home. Outside the car her son Timmy and his friend Gibson helped the Lanoha Nursery worker load the Christmas tree on top of Christine’s SUV. Nick had offered to help, too, but the boys insisted they could do it. He didn’t argue. All he could think about was finding a way up to Minneapolis.
    His new boss had chosen Nick to represent Mall of America’s security company, their security company, United Allied Security. With his experience as a county sheriff he had dealt with homicide scenes and forensic evidence. And as an attorney he had the legal background to protect the company’s rights. That’s what his boss Al Banoff had told him. Nick guessed it was one of those golden opportunities that shouldn’t be questioned. Even if the opportunity would be measured in fatalities.
    “How many do they think are dead?” Christine asked him.
    Nick gave her a warning look. “What?”
    “Stop being a reporter,” he told her.
    “I’m just asking,” she said, then added, “Out of concern. Nothing more.”
    “Right.”
    He waited. He knew she wouldn’t give up that easily. “Seriously, it’s bad, isn’t it?”
    But this time without even glancing at her Nick could tell she was concerned by the catch in her voice. He caught a glimpse of her hand before she hid it in her lap, nervous fingers combing through her blond hair. Explosions going off in a crowded mall the day after Thanksgiving—it was a nightmare that could happen anywhere. That’s what grabbed you by the throat and choked your senses for a minute or two.
    “Yeah, I think it’s bad.”
    “Reminds me of the Hawkins shooting,” she said in almost a whisper.
    “It was around this time of year?”
    “December 5 th .”
    Nick had been living in Boston at the time but he knew the incident had rattled the state of Nebraska. A nineteen-year-old named Robert Hawkins walked into the Von Maur at Westroads Shopping Mall, took the elevator to the third floor and started shooting. By the time he was finished and turned the gun on himself, eight other people were dead. All of them random and innocent shoppers and store employees.
    “That was so hard on the entire community,” Christine said, now watching out the