Scratchgravel Road (Josie Gray Mysteries #2)(88)



“If you drop that glass, or you raise your arm, you’ll get a bullet through your back,” Otto said. “You’ll die here on the floor, in a pool of your own blood.”

The hysteria from moments before hung on Brent’s face as if frozen in time. He appeared paralyzed.

“You’re going to bend slowly down, and you’re going to set that glass on the floor. Very gently,” Otto said.

His face grew slack, as if Otto’s words were sinking in, and he slowly bent forward.

About a foot from the floor, Brent rose up with all his power, knocking Otto’s gun arm out of the way. He flung the liquid at Josie. She ducked, but received a splash across the right side of her face, and down her right arm. She screamed in shock, then anger propelled her forward and she leaped onto him as he was turning to escape. Otto brought his gun arm up at the same time and hit Brent in the temple. The beaker fell, sending glass shards scattering across the floor. Blood appeared immediately and Brent fell backwards as Josie landed on his side.

She flipped him on his stomach where he lay limp. Her face began to burn.

“Jesus, Josie, get that washed off you,” Otto called. “Go!”

As Josie squatted with one knee on Brent’s back, her arms and legs felt numb, as if weighed down with lead. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her.

Otto pulled a set of handcuffs off his gun belt, and clicked them around Brent’s wrists.

“Damn it, Josie! Get up and find a bathroom. Get that washed off. Who knows what the hell that might be!” he yelled.

He grabbed Josie’s arm and pulled her up and out of her own thoughts. “Go. I’ll call Diego and get him over here.”

She walked, then ran toward the back of the building in search of a bathroom.

She heard Brent groan as if the wind had been knocked out of him. She imagined Otto beating the life out of him, but she couldn’t think straight. She just knew she needed to get water on her face. The visions of Santiago’s arms, the fresh image of Brent Thyme’s wrist, were terrifying.

She stumbled through a door with a sign that said RESTROOM. She turned the water on full force and pressed the lever for the hand soap, rubbing the foam into her face, splashing water, then doing the same on her arm. She wondered suddenly if water would do more harm than good, but continued splashing water and washing with soap until the skin on her face turned bright red. After ten minutes of continual soap and water Josie decided to stop because she didn’t know what else to do. Her face burned, but no blisters were forming yet. After several minutes the burn worsened and she went back to the water and soap routine. She was certain Otto had called the medics. She figured the most effective treatment at that point was continued washing until she heard otherwise.

She looked in the mirror at the red patch on her face. She’d seen pictures of women in Pakistan, disfigured by acid thrown on their faces and bodies as a punishment for accused infidelity. She imagined her face scarred and withered.

The door opened and Diego entered the restroom. “Where did you get hit? Do you know what he threw on you?”

She looked up from the running water and saw his reflection in the mirror behind her. She shook her head. “It was a clear liquid. It hit the side of my face and my arm. It’s burning.”

He looked panicked. “Otto and Skip are taking Brent to the storage room where he found the chemicals.”

She looked at him blankly.

“Keep applying a cool water bath to the area until we find out what the chemical was.”

Diego stayed with her, touching wet cloths to her face, talking to calm her nerves. After what seemed an eternity, Skip entered the small bathroom carrying a glass jug half filled with a clear liquid.

“This is it, Josie. Brent led us to it. The lid was off. It’s hydrochloric acid. In its most concentrated form it would do terrible damage to your skin. The pain would be unbearable. These acids have been prepared for disposal, though. It’s been combined with a base in order to neutralize the acid.”

“So what are you saying?” she asked, wanting irrefutable proof that she would not be scarred for life.

Diego laid a hand on her back. “He’s saying you’ll be fine. You need to see a doctor, but the acid has been mixed with something to make it less harmful. I’m so sorry for this.”

Josie looked at Skip, who stood looking helpless. “Brent poured the acid from that container into another jar? And that’s what he threw on me?”

“Yes.”

She noticed he was wearing latex gloves. “Keep the gloves on so we don’t lose his fingerprints. I need you to get that container to Otto. Ask him to get it labeled for evidence. It’s crucial that doesn’t get misplaced in the middle of all the commotion here.”

Skip left the room with the acid and Diego continued to stare at her face.

“My face still burns.” She looked toward the mirror and saw a red patch the size of her palm along the side of her face.

“The skin on your face is sensitive. I would expect it to turn red. It will fade. You need to get to a hospital to have a doctor treat you, though,” Diego said. “The chemicals are neutralized to make them safe to dispose of, but it’s not an exact science.”

Josie nodded. “Where’s Otto?”

“Skip said he took Brent outside in handcuffs.”

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