Her Last Day (Jessie Cole #1)(52)
Although thankful that Fiona Hampton was willing to talk on her behalf in court, Jessie knew she needed more. Someone had to know about Parker Koontz and his stealthy pursuit of young women. But who?
She pulled out her phone and called Andriana, hoping she had an idea about whom she might talk to about Koontz, but there was no answer. It was the weekend, which meant she was probably puttering around in her garden. Her thoughts quickly turned to Zee Gatley. Everything about the case was odd, starting with Arlo and how he’d rushed her out of the house and acted so strange whenever she saw him. What was he hiding?
She thought of his neighbors. Many of them came across as judgmental and secretive. And what about the other girl who went missing on the same block? Was there any correlation to Zee Gatley’s disappearance? Many of the neighbors had refused to talk, unwilling to help a father in his search for his mentally ill daughter. Why wouldn’t they all want to work together to help find Zee? It defied reason.
And then there was Mrs. Dixon, who’d said she’d heard screaming and loud noises coming from the Gatley house. Zee was a schizophrenic. Jessie had been reading about the mental illness. Many people with the disorder failed to understand what was real and what wasn’t. Common symptoms included confusion, hearing voices that no one else heard, false beliefs, and abnormal social behavior. Maybe things had been worse at home than Arlo let on. He’d seemed nervous. And yet he was the one who’d sought her help, which made Jessie consider the possibility that he was simply a socially awkward man, and his nervous mannerisms had nothing to do with Zee and everything to do with who he was as a person.
A low growl brought her back to earth. Hackles rose from the top of Higgins’s neck, down his backbone, and to the base of his tail.
“Come on,” she said, trying to pull him along.
He wouldn’t budge. She’d never seen Higgins like this before. Jessie bent down, hoping to see what might be bothering him. There were houses on both sides of the street. No cars coming or going. Not one pedestrian in sight.
Higgins set off again at a fast walk, his ears straight, his body stiff. She stood and let him pull her across the street and into the alleyway. There was a dumpster to her left overflowing with trash.
Higgins’s pace slowed, his limp more noticeable, the cast on his foot making an uneven clip-clop across the pavement. But there was another noise, too. The sound of paper crunching beneath a shoe.
Higgins growled again, his ears set, body tense.
The hairs at the back of her neck stood on end. Using her free hand, she reached into her back pants pocket for her pepper spray at the same moment a man wearing a baseball cap jumped out from behind the dumpster.
He lunged for her, taking her to the ground, the weight of his body pinning her against asphalt. Pain shot through her head and her elbow.
Higgins barked.
The pepper spray rolled across the pavement, out of reach.
Her attacker was Caucasian, midthirties, blue eyes. His right ear had a missing chunk of flesh, as if someone had taken a bite out of it.
“You should have minded your own business,” he told her.
Having no idea what he was talking about, she grunted, still struggling to get out from under him. She saw the blade of a knife coming at her.
She tried to pull away, but he held tight and struck fast, slicing the side of her face. It all happened in a flash. There was no pain, only shock and blood, lots of blood dripping down her neck and shoulder as Higgins continued to bark.
She had an aversion to blood.
Don’t look at the blood.
She gritted her teeth as she tried again to free her arm. His knees were crushing her chest, making it hard to breathe. He raised his weapon again. He was going to kill her. She could see it in his eyes. It was over. She screamed.
And Higgins lunged, sunk sharp teeth into the man’s arm. Spittle flew from her attacker’s mouth as he cursed the dog, his movements giving Jessie enough wriggle room to pull her arm free and use his own weight to knock him off her. She punched him in the groin, then rolled across the pavement and grabbed the pepper spray. With the flick of her thumb, she released the tab, jumped to her feet, and sprayed him in the face as he battled with Higgins.
His elbow made contact with Higgins’s side. The dog yelped and released his hold. But Higgins continued to bark and nip at the man as he got to his feet and made a blind zigzag path out of the alleyway.
Jessie held a hand to the side of her neck and headed back the way she’d come. By the time she crossed the street, Higgins was at her side, the leash dragging behind him. She felt dizzy and had to work to keep her focus. Just another block to go.
A woman across the street stopped to look at her.
Jessie didn’t pause.
Higgins whimpered at her side, and she wondered if he’d been hurt. And then she saw Colin up ahead, climbing out of his car parked at the curb. He glanced her way and did a double take before running toward her. “Jessie! What happened?”
“I was attacked.”
“By who?”
“I don’t know. A man with a knife. Higgins might be hurt.”
Her legs wobbled right before Colin scooped her into his arms and rushed toward her house. As he rang the doorbell, he called out Olivia’s name.
The door came open, and Olivia saw Jessie in his arms. “Oh my God,” she cried. “What happened?”
“She’s going to be fine,” he told her. “Take the dog, and then lock the door, and don’t open it again until I return. I’m taking her to the hospital.”