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“Jesus,” he muttered, rushing over to the woman. It was dark and she
was on her side, but Decker didn’t know her. She was pretty enough that if she was from around here, he sure as hell would’ve.
“Don’t move,” he said when the woman tried to sit up. He leaned down farther and eased his hand under her head. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“I have to go,” she cried, trying again to move. “He’ll kill me.”
“Who’s gonna kill you?”
“My . . .”
That was the last word the woman said before she first lost consciousness and then died with her head resting on Decker’s hand.
