But no one knew where she was, that she was in the forest at the hands of a maniac. God, please . . .
Her lungs felt as if they would explode, her eyes bulged.
Why would he do this? Why? Frantic, she fought, throwing her weight away from him, attempting to break his deadly hold, hoping to kick him hard in his shins or his nuts, wherever she could lash out. To no avail. Her blows found no mark, her stabs at breaking free only serving to make him increase his hold.
The pain in her lungs was excruciating. So much pressure and a blackness pulled at the edges of her consciousness, a darkness that was as alluring as it was deadly.
Don’t give up! Keep fighting. Someone will come. You’ll be saved! You can’t die! Not like this, not when . . . the baby. Oh, God, the baby! She struggled harder, but her mind was dulled with pain, her movements sluggish and she knew she was on the verge of losing consciousness. If that happened, it would be over. She would surely die at his hands.
How had she gotten here?
Why had she trusted him?
She’d been so, so foolish.
The world spun crazily. Tops of trees seemed to skim the sky. The moon, pearlescent and shining in the darkness, the sounds of the night, the rush of wind and buzz of insects and whir of bat wings now silent beneath the thunder of her pulse beating in her ears, the fear that was consuming her, the infinite blackness crawling into her vision.
He was going to kill her!
She’d trusted him.
Stupidly.
And now he intended to cut off her air and hold her down. Strangle her until she passed out and . . .
She fought harder, her fingernails ripping at the backs of those steely hands, slicing into his . . . not skin, but something covering his hands. Gloves! The son of a bitch was wearing gloves. So that he could murder her and get away with it! Leave no trace of his damned DNA! No way! No friggin’ way! Her thoughts were wild, the darkness in her peripheral vision closing in.
She twisted her neck, intent on biting his arm when she heard him take a deep breath. Then, as her burning lungs gave out and lightning bolts flashed behind her eyes, she felt an increased pressure on her throat. Harder, stronger, and . . . and . . . then the blackness around the edge of her vision swallowed her.
* * *
The call came in at two minutes after 5 AM. It was still nearly dark, just the hint of dim light filtering through the open French doors as Pescoli fumbled for her phone. Groaning, she looked at the lit screen of her cell: ALVAREZ.
This was not going to be good news, she thought as the first cries of morning birds slipped inside on a soft breeze.
“Yeah?” she answered groggily, surfacing to realize that she was alone in the bed. She pushed herself into a sitting position and figured Santana had already gotten up, was maybe downstairs going over book work or getting ready for another day working not only this place but the Long ranch as well.
“We’ve got another one.”
“Another what?” Pescoli asked, staring over the mound that had once been her trim abdomen to the view, through the open doors, of the lake. A hint of sunlight burst over the mountains to the east. “Dead body?”
“No.”
For a second, Pescoli felt relief. “Then what?” she asked around a yawn.
“A girl scared out of her wits by Big Foot.”
“What? No. Come on.”
“Lara Haas claims she was chased by a huge, hairy monster up near Reservoir Point. The thing tried to strangle her, but she got away.”
Pescoli rubbed her eyes with her free hand. “Wait a sec. This was when? After the filming of the reality series? Because Sphinx’s production crew was up there most of the night, until the early morning.” This wasn’t adding up. Bianca had come in sometime around 3 AM. Pescoli had heard the sounds of Michelle’s car’s idling engine as she’d dropped Bianca off, then the distinctive rumble of the garage door lifting and closing, a few soft woofs from the dogs, and finally the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Once she’d heard her daughter’s bedroom door open and close, Pescoli had drifted off again. She considered Lara Haas. “Sounds like a hoax.”
“Anything involving Big Foot sounds like a hoax, but I thought since this happened to Bianca last week, or at least something similar, you might want to check it out.”
“Is she up there at Reservoir Point now?”
“No, she called nine-one-one. She’s pretty beat up, I guess, and ended up at Northern General. I’m heading to the hospital now.”