The Sleeping Doll (Kathryn Dance 1)

She looked outside, saw more blood and footprints in the dirt beneath it. She told Kellogg this and added, "Think we have to assume they got away and he's after them."

The FBI agent said, "I'll go. Why don't you wait here for the backup?"

"No," she said automatically; there was no debate. "The reunion was my idea. And I'm not letting them die. I owe them that."

He hesitated. "All right."

They ran to the back door. Inhaling deeply, she flung it open; with Kellogg behind her, Dance sprinted outside, expecting at any moment to hear the crack of a gunshot and feel the numbing slap of a bullet.

*

He hurt me.

My Daniel hurt me.

Why?

The pain in Linda's heart was nearly as bad as the pain in her side. The good Christian within her had forgiven Daniel for the past. She was ready to forgive him for the present.

Yet he'd shot me.

She wanted to lie down. Let Jesus cloak them, let Jesus save them. She whispered this to Sam, but maybe she didn't. Maybe it was in her imagination.

Samantha said nothing. She kept them jogging, Linda in agony, along the twisty paths of the beautiful yet stern park.

Paul, Harry, Lisa . . . the names of the foster children reeled through her mind.

No, that was last year. They were gone now. She had others now.

What were their names?

Why don't I have a family?

Because God our Father has another plan for me, that's why.

Because Samantha betrayed me.

Mad thoughts, rolling through her mind like the nearby sea cycled over the bony rocks.

"It hurts."

"Keep going," was Sam's whisper. "Kathryn and that FBI agent'll be here any minute."

"He shot me. Daniel shot me."

Her vision crinkled. She was going to faint. Then what'll the Mouse do? Lug my 162 pounds over her shoulder?

No, she'll betray me like she did before.

Samantha, my Judas.

Through the sound of the troubled waves, the wind hissing through the slippery pines and cypress, Linda heard Daniel Pell behind them. The snap of a branch occasionally, a rustle of leaves. They hurried on. Until the root of a scrub oak caught her foot and she went down hard, her wound burning with pain. She screamed.

"Shhhhh."

"It hurts."

Sam's voice, shaking with fear. "Come on, get up, Linda. Please!"