He spun wildly in a circle looking for her. “Paradise!”
Her SIG P365 lay nearly hidden in a section of taller grass and her purse was a few feet away. He tucked her small pistol into her purse and slung her bag over one shoulder while he continued to search.
There. Drag marks flattened the grass.
He followed the impression toward the fence-enclosed dumpster area. The partner to the flip-flop lay at the base of the trash bin.
“Paradise!” he yelled again. Two gulls stared at him with beady black eyes and approached in hopes of a handout.
He yanked out his phone and started to call Jane, but a soft sound stilled his fingers. Was that a moan? He leaped toward the dumpster where the lid on one side was open. When he peeredin he found Paradise curled in a ball, her light brown hair matted with blood.
Blake muttered a “please, God” before he vaulted over the top. He ignored the stench of garbage, then touched her carotid artery, which thumped erratically under his fingers. Her normally tanned skin was pale and clammy.
At least she was alive.
Blood still flowed from a cut on her head, and his paramedic training in the Marines kicked in. He yanked off his tee to press it to the wound, then tucked his phone under his chin and ordered it to call 911. When the dispatcher answered, he said, “I need an ambulance out at The Wharf near the enclosed dumpsters in the back parking lot. Send the police too. Tell Chief Dixon someone attacked Paradise Alden and she’s bleeding with a head wound.”
“We have help on the way, sir.”
He checked her pulse. Way too fast at nearly two hundred beats per minute. “I’m a paramedic so I’m going to sign off and tend to her until help arrives.” He gave his name before he ended the call and dropped the phone into her purse still over his shoulder.
He didn’t dare move her in case she had a spinal injury. He checked the wound, and the flow of blood was slowing. He renewed the pressure on the cut. “Paradise, can you hear me? Open your eyes, babe.”
She had to be all right. Head wounds bled a lot. He reached for her hand and squeezed it, praying for answering pressure from her fingers, but they lay slack in his grip. She was still out cold. Not good. A lump formed in his throat, and he checked her pulse again. Steadier now and slower at just over a hundred beats per minute.
He allowed a ray of hope to blossom. “Paradise, I’m here. You’re all right.”
Her fingers moved slightly in his, and he leaned closer to her face. Her eyelids fluttered, and she coughed. He checked the wound and found it starting to clot.Thank you, God.She moved her head, which was an even better sign.
A siren wailed and grew louder, and she frowned as if the noise bothered her. “They’re coming to help you, babe. Hang on. You’re going to be all right. Can you open your eyes?”
Her lids fluttered before opening to slits. “The light,” she muttered.
He shielded her with his hand from the glare streaming in the top of the dumpster. The siren cut off nearby and doors slammed. There wasn’t much room in the dumpster with bags heaped all around them, so he’d have to climb out for the paramedics to have room to check her out with proper equipment.
Her hand moved to her neck. “My locket.”
He’d given her his great-grandmother’s locket for her thirtieth birthday a few months ago, and she never took it off. He’d often caught her opening it and smiling at the picture of the two of them on one side and her with his brothers on the other. It meant the world to her.
He ran his fingers around her neck and found it. “It’s right here, babe.” He guided her fingers to touch the filigree and the stress on her face relaxed.
Someone banged on the outside of the dumpster, and he reluctantly let go of her hand to struggle to his feet. “She’s in here. I’ll get out.” He clambered over the side to join two men with a backboard. “I got the bleeding stopped.”
“We’ll take it from here. You related?”
“I’m her boyfriend. When she didn’t show up to get her ice cream, I went looking for her.”
A police car came to a stop in the lot by the ambulance, andtwo officers got out. Neither of them were familiar, and he was relieved that Detective Greene was not with them.
Blake intercepted the officers. “Someone attacked my girlfriend.” He told them about finding the flip-flop and following the drag marks to the dumpster. “My mom is here somewhere with my little brothers. I need to let her know what’s happened.”
“Any idea who might want to harm her?” the younger officer asked.
“She’s been investigating the murders of her parents, and there have been some other threats.”
The officer jotted down the other incidents, and Blake took the opportunity to text his mother.Paradise attacked. EMS is here. She’s got a head wound but is starting to wake up. Better not let the boys see this.
His mother’s answer came back immediately.Oh no! Praying. I’ll take the boys to get pizza. Keep me posted.
