The Dollmaker's Daughters (Bo Bradley Mysteries, Book Five) by Abigail Padgett Read Free Book Online
Book: The Dollmaker's Daughters (Bo Bradley Mysteries, Book Five) by Abigail Padgett Read Free Book Online
Authors: Abigail Padgett
the front door, pulled the child to her feet, and dragged her through the kitchen into a bedroom, closing the door behind them. As the voices beyond the wall fell to lower, more menacing tones, Bo saw Estrella go pale and start to stand, then notice the window behind her and fling herself back onto the couch on her side. Her knees were pulled up, her whole body wrapped protectively around her abdomen. Suddenly it all made sense to Bo.
"The baby!" she yelled, scrambling out of the beanbag chair and flinging herself across Estrella as a deafening blast sent a cloud of wallboard and white dust against the ceiling. A second blast came from the porch, followed by a sickening thump. Then desperate movements from the adjoining duplex, the sound of someone running, silence. It had all happened, Bo calculated, in less than ten seconds. Estrella was sobbing.
"It's okay, Es," Bo said over the pounding of her own heart. "One of them's on the porch, probably shot. He's not moving. The other one ran."
"Don't go out there," Estrella whispered as Bo raised her head to peek out the window. "Just call the police and then stay away from the window until they take him away. There could be more shooting. Stay down and get to a phone."
As Bo dropped to the floor she noticed that the Barbie doll's hair was full of glass from the shattered TV screen, and that her own black coat was filmed in white du st. For a moment she felt ghostl y, as if in fact she'd really been shot and was now dead but hadn't yet realized it. It could happen that way, she thought. Like a dream in which you believe you've gotten up and dressed and ready for work, only to waken to the fact that your mind has tricked you, you're still in bed, and you're going to be late. Maybe after you're dead your mind dreams the next moments you would have had, she thought. Maybe your mind stretches the illusion of your l ife until the last oxygen is exhausted from the last brain cell, and then the illusion fades into darkness.
"Es, am I dead?" she yelled from all fours, panic making her voice crack.
Estrella heard it and slid off the couch to the floor.
"No, but you're probably in mild shock," she said softly. "You must've been psychic or something right before it happened. You couldn't have understood the Spanish when the Brujo said 'If you shoot me you're a dead man,' but you seemed to know what was coming and you tried to protect me and the baby. We appreciate it, Bo, and we love you. So just relax until the shock wears off, okay? Somebody else will have called the police. Just relax."
"Es, if two gunshots can send me over the edge, what does a lifetime of this do to little kids? Little kids who live with it every day?"
"Maybe they think they're dead, too," Estrella replied through tears as a siren wailed and then stopped beyond the locked door.
"Call the medical examine r," a male voice announced non committally, "this guy's a goner."
Standing to look out the window, Bo and Estrella saw the Brujo crumpled on the steps, his sweater soaked with blood. The sound of the back door slamming indicated that the girl and her grandmother had left to avoid involvement with the police. It seemed like a good idea to Bo.
"Let's get out of here before it's too late," she suggested. "I'll call Dar from the office and tell him we were here. If the investigating officers need us, we'll talk to them later."
"You're on," Estrella agreed, wincing as she headed for the back door. "I'm really feeling funny, Bo. Maybe I'm just upset, but I'm having these twinges...."
"Oh, my God!"
Grabbing her CPS ID badge from her pocket, Bo opened the front door and held the badge before her. Just a plastic card on a clip, it lacked a certain verve, she thought.
"Bo Bradley, CPS," she growled authoritatively at the uniformed cop. "My partner and I were interviewing a client here when the shooting occurred next door. No one in this duplex was injured, but my partner is almost nine months pregnant and needs to be
"The baby!" she yelled, scrambling out of the beanbag chair and flinging herself across Estrella as a deafening blast sent a cloud of wallboard and white dust against the ceiling. A second blast came from the porch, followed by a sickening thump. Then desperate movements from the adjoining duplex, the sound of someone running, silence. It had all happened, Bo calculated, in less than ten seconds. Estrella was sobbing.
"It's okay, Es," Bo said over the pounding of her own heart. "One of them's on the porch, probably shot. He's not moving. The other one ran."
"Don't go out there," Estrella whispered as Bo raised her head to peek out the window. "Just call the police and then stay away from the window until they take him away. There could be more shooting. Stay down and get to a phone."
As Bo dropped to the floor she noticed that the Barbie doll's hair was full of glass from the shattered TV screen, and that her own black coat was filmed in white du st. For a moment she felt ghostl y, as if in fact she'd really been shot and was now dead but hadn't yet realized it. It could happen that way, she thought. Like a dream in which you believe you've gotten up and dressed and ready for work, only to waken to the fact that your mind has tricked you, you're still in bed, and you're going to be late. Maybe after you're dead your mind dreams the next moments you would have had, she thought. Maybe your mind stretches the illusion of your l ife until the last oxygen is exhausted from the last brain cell, and then the illusion fades into darkness.
"Es, am I dead?" she yelled from all fours, panic making her voice crack.
Estrella heard it and slid off the couch to the floor.
"No, but you're probably in mild shock," she said softly. "You must've been psychic or something right before it happened. You couldn't have understood the Spanish when the Brujo said 'If you shoot me you're a dead man,' but you seemed to know what was coming and you tried to protect me and the baby. We appreciate it, Bo, and we love you. So just relax until the shock wears off, okay? Somebody else will have called the police. Just relax."
"Es, if two gunshots can send me over the edge, what does a lifetime of this do to little kids? Little kids who live with it every day?"
"Maybe they think they're dead, too," Estrella replied through tears as a siren wailed and then stopped beyond the locked door.
"Call the medical examine r," a male voice announced non committally, "this guy's a goner."
Standing to look out the window, Bo and Estrella saw the Brujo crumpled on the steps, his sweater soaked with blood. The sound of the back door slamming indicated that the girl and her grandmother had left to avoid involvement with the police. It seemed like a good idea to Bo.
"Let's get out of here before it's too late," she suggested. "I'll call Dar from the office and tell him we were here. If the investigating officers need us, we'll talk to them later."
"You're on," Estrella agreed, wincing as she headed for the back door. "I'm really feeling funny, Bo. Maybe I'm just upset, but I'm having these twinges...."
"Oh, my God!"
Grabbing her CPS ID badge from her pocket, Bo opened the front door and held the badge before her. Just a plastic card on a clip, it lacked a certain verve, she thought.
"Bo Bradley, CPS," she growled authoritatively at the uniformed cop. "My partner and I were interviewing a client here when the shooting occurred next door. No one in this duplex was injured, but my partner is almost nine months pregnant and needs to be
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