Kill for Me by Karen Rose Read Free Book Online

wounded.
    Susannah started to stand so she could wave Luke down, when the girl’s bloody hand shot up and gripped her forearm. The girl’s eyes flew open and in them Susannah saw fear and intense pain.
    “Who . . . are you?” the girl choked out.
    “My name is Susannah Vartanian. I’m here to help you. Please don’t be afraid.”
    The girl fell back, gasping. “Vartanian. You came.” Then Susannah’s heart stopped in her chest. The girl was staring up at her like . . . like she was God. “You finally came.”
    Susannah gingerly pulled at the girl’s tattered T-shirt until she saw the bullet hole. Panicked, she let the shirt fall. Oh, God. She’d been shot in the side. Now what?
    Think, Vartanian. You remember what to do. Pressure. She needed to put pressure on the wound. Quickly she stripped off her jacket, then her blouse, shivering when the cold air hit her skin. “What’s your name, honey?” she asked as she worked, but the girl said nothing, her eyes again closed.
    Susannah lifted the girl’s eyelids. No response, but she still found a pulse. Rapidly she wound her blouse into a tight ball and gently pressed it to the wound. “Luke!”
    She heard the footsteps behind her a second before his snarled curse. A look over her shoulder had her eyes widening at the gun in his hand.
    “I told you to stay—Holy Mother of God.” His eyes flicked briefly to her lacy bra, then focused on the girl. “Do you know who she is?”
    She dropped her eyes back to her hands, pressed to the girl’s side. “No. Bailey told me to help her while you were on the phone. She also said Granville and Mansfield were the ones holding her.”
    “Granville.” He nodded. “The town doctor. I met him this week at one of the crime scenes. So he’s the third rapist.”
    “I think so.”
    “Did the girl say anything to you?”
    Susannah frowned. “She said my last name, then ‘You came. You finally came.’ Like she was expecting me.” Then she looked at me like I was God. It made her uneasy. “She’s been shot and she’s lost a lot of blood. Give me your belt. I need to wrap it around her to put pressure on this wound.”
    She heard the whistle of his belt being drawn through his belt loops. “Put on your jacket,” he said, “and go wait with Bailey.”
    “But—”
    He dropped to one knee, briefly met her eyes. “I’ll take care of her. Whoever did this might still be around. I don’t want Bailey alone.” He hesitated. “Can you handle a gun?”
    “Yes,” Susannah answered without hesitation.
    “Good.” He drew a pistol from an ankle holster. “Now run. I’ll carry her.”
    Susannah grabbed her jacket and shoved her arms in the sleeves. “Luke, she’s just a kid. She’s going to die if we don’t get her help soon.”
    “I know,” he said grimly, slipping his belt around the girl’s body. “Now go. I’ll follow.”

Chapter Three
    Dutton, Friday, February 2, 3:45 p.m.
    L uke was tightening the straps on his Kevlar vest when two Arcadia squad cars pulled up. A man got out, taking in the scene. “I’m Corchran. Where’s Vartanian?”
    “Right here.” Susannah looked up from where she knelt between Bailey and the girl. The jacket she’d buttoned up to her throat was covered in blood, as was her skirt. The pair of plastic gloves Luke had given her dwarfed her small hands, which continued to put pressure on the hole in the girl’s side. “Where’s the damn ambulance?”
    Corchran frowned. “En route. Who are you?”
    “This is Susannah Vartanian, Daniel’s sister,” Luke said. “I’m Papadopoulos.”
    “So where is Daniel Vartanian?” Corchran asked.
    Luke pointed. “He went that way and he’s not answering his cell or his radio.”
    Corchran’s brows bunched in obvious concern. “Who are these two?”
    “The woman is Bailey Crighton,” Luke said. “The girl’s a Jane Doe. Both are unconscious. I have a chopper coming to airlift them to Atlanta. It’s possible whoever did this is