Blindsighted by Karin Slaughter Read Free Book Online Page A

Sara. "Why didn't you call a real doctor?"
    Sara gave a short incredulous laugh. She inhaled deeply before answering, " Lena, I think you should let Jeffrey take you home now."
    "I don't want to go home," Lena answered, her tone calm, almost conversational. "Did you call an ambulance? Did you call your boyfriend?" A tilt of her head indicated Jeffrey.
    Sara's hands went behind her back. She seemed to be physically restraining herself. "We're not going to have this conversation now. You're too upset."
    "I'm too upset," Lena repeated, clenching her hands. "You think I'm upset?" she said, her voice louder this time. "You think I'm too fucking upset to talk to you about why you fucking couldn't help my sister?"
    As quickly as she had taken off in the parking lot, Lena was in Sara's face.
    "You're a doctor!" Lena screamed. "How can she die with a fucking doctor in the room?"
    Sara did not answer. She looked off to the side.
    "You can't even look at me," Lena said. "Can you?"
    Sara's focus did not change.
    "You let my sister die and you can't even fucking look at toe."
    " Lena," Jeffrey said, finally stepping in. He put his hand on her arm, trying to get her to back off.
    "Let me go," she screamed, punching him with her fists. She started to pummel his chest, but he grabbed her hands, holding them tight. She still fought him, screaming, spitting, kicking. Holding her hands was like grabbing a live wire. He kept a firm hand, taking the abuse, letting her get it all out until she crumpled into a ball on the floor. Jeffrey sat beside her, holding her while she sobbed. When he thought to look, Sara was nowhere to be found.
    Jeffrey pulled a handkerchief out of his desk with one hand, holding the phone to his ear with the other. He put the cloth to his mouth, dabbing at the blood as a metallic version of Sara's voice asked him to wait for the beep.
    "Hey," he said, taking away the cloth. "You there?" He waited a few seconds. "I want to make sure you're okay, Sara." More seconds passed. "If you don't pick up, I'm going to come over." He expected to get a response to this, but nothing came. He heard the machine run out and hung up the phone.
    Frank knocked on his office door. "The kid's in the bathroom," he said, meaning Lena. Jeffrey knew Lena hated to be called a kid, but this was the only way Frank Wallace could think to show his partner that he cared.
    Frank said, "She's got a mean right, huh?"
    "Yeah." Jeffrey folded the handkerchief for a fresh corner. "She know I'm waiting for her?"
    Frank offered, "I'll make sure she doesn't make any detours."
    "Good," Jeffrey said, then, "Thanks."
    He saw Lena walking through the squad room, her chin tilted up defiantly. When she got to his office, she took her time shutting the door, then slumped into one of the two chairs across from him. She had the look of a teenager who had been called into the principal's office.
    "I'm sorry I hit you," she mumbled.
    "Yeah," Jeffrey returned, holding up the handkerchief. "I got worse at the Auburn-Alabama game." She did not respond, so he added, "And I was in the stands at the time."
    Lena propped her elbow on the armrest and leaned her head into her hand. "What leads do you have?" she asked. "Any suspects?"
    "We're running the computer right now," he said. "We should have a list in the morning."
    She put her hand over her eyes. He folded the handkerchief, waiting for her to speak.
    She whispered, "She was raped?"
    "Yes."
    "How badly?"
    "I don't know."
    "She was cut," Lena said. "This is some Jesus freak?"
    His answer was the truth. "I don't know."
    "You don't seem to know a hell of a lot," she finally said.
    "You're right," he agreed. "I need to ask you some questions."
    Lena did not look up, but he saw her give a slight nod.
    "Was she seeing anybody?"
    Finally she looked up. "No."
    "Any old boyfriends?"
    Something flickered in her eyes, and her answer didn't come as quickly as the last. "No."
    "You sure about that?"
    "Yes, I'm sure."
    "Not even somebody