Ashley resisted the very real temptation to roll her eyes at the instruction, which she found to be rather insulting. At the very least, it told her that the lieutenant was not paying any attention to her as an employee. She was good at her job, needed next to no instructions and animals seemed to respond to her because she got along better with them than she did the people she had to work with.
People had secrets, they had petty jealousies, they had agendas. With animals, what she saw was what she got. She liked that a lot better.
“Yes, sir,” she murmured as she left Rener’s office and closed the door behind her.
* * *
Ashley could hear the barking even before she parked the small Animal Control van near the apartment and got out.
Rather than aggression, what she heard in the barking was more along the lines of pathetic whining. It was as if the animal was calling to get someone’s attention.
Ashley’s jaw tightened as anger swept through her. More than likely, the animal had been abused. It was probably chained, starved and beaten, as well. There was nothing she hated more than an animal being the scapegoat for its owner’s inadequacies and frustrations. Not to mention that in some cases, abusing and torturing small animals was also the starting point for a budding serial killer.
The dog’s pathetic barking felt as if it was reverberating in her chest.
A slender redhead of medium height, Ashley lengthened her stride as she quickened her pace, cutting across the parking lot.
The barking sounded increasingly more pathetic the closer she came to the apartment. She could feel her heart twisting in her chest. That poor dog, she couldn’t help thinking. It sounded as if it was in real pain.
The apartment the sound was coming from was located on the ground floor. Its kitchen window was facing the parking lot. Rather than knock on the door, Ashley decided to look through the window first to see what she might be up against. Though she loved all breeds of dogs, she wasn’t naive about the way some responded to strangers, no matter how well-meaning that stranger might be.
There were blinds at the window, but they were slightly cracked open, just enough for her to be able to see into the apartment.
It took her a few seconds to get her eyes accustomed to the interior of the apartment. A lot of light was not coming in, and consequently, a large portion of what she was trying to make out was shrouded in shadow.
Taking out her flashlight, she aimed it at the interior of the apartment.
She saw the dog first. It was a Jack Russell terrier, a breed of dog known to be high-strung and hyper. Clearly agitated, the small, wiry dog was running back and forth around something.
No, someone.
Oh, God.
Ashley’s mouth dropped open. She could see someone lying on the floor. The flashlight wasn’t enough to make out all that much. But there was definitely a person on the kitchen floor.
It was either a woman or a long-haired man. He or she was facedown on the vinyl in what looked like—
Blood.
Dear God, it was blood. Ashley’s stomach twisted. Her hand shook as she took out her cell.
Breathe, damn it. Breathe. You’ve seen blood before, Ash.
She heard a voice on the other end of the line. She wasn’t even sure what the voice said. She just launched into her request.
“Dispatch, this is Officer Ashley St. James.” She rattled off her badge number as proof of who she was, then said, “I need a bus sent to 198 San Juan. Apartments off Newport Avenue North. Not for an animal, it’s for a person,” she insisted. “And send backup! Fast!”
Obviously, Dispatch had pulled her badge up on the computer and would think she was asking for assistance with someone’s pet.
Agitated, Ashley barely heard the voice on the other end confirm her request. Terminating the call, she was vaguely aware of pocketing her cell phone. During the call, her eyes never left the figure on the floor.
The dog continued to circle around it, barking and growing progressively more and more agitated, as if it knew that its master couldn’t survive long, not with the kind of blood loss that the pool on the floor indicated.
Whoever it was, was bleeding out, Ashley thought. She had to do something. She couldn’t just stand there, waiting for the ambulance to arrive.
Her heart in her throat, Ashley raced back to the leasing office to get the manager.
The sign hanging on the closed glass door stopped her in her tracks. “Out showing apartments. Be back in twenty minutes.”
The person in the apartment didn’t have twenty minutes. He or she might not even have five.
She had to get in there, Ashley thought, desperately casting about for how. And then she remembered one of the kids she’d met growing up in the system. He’d taught her a few things that she would never be able to put on a résumé.
Making up her mind, Ashley ran back to the apartment. Scrutinizing the perimeter of the window, she went into action and popped out the left pane, lifting it up and out of the frame. The space was small, but just big enough to accommodate her.
Pulling herself up off the ground, Ashley went through the opening and tumbled into the apartment—into the kitchen sink, more precisely. She hit her shoulder against the metal faucet.
The unexpected jolt vibrated right through her. Entirely focused on the person a few feet away, the pain shooting down her arm barely registered.
The terrier ran toward her, barking furiously, as if to warn her away from the person he was guarding.
For a moment Ashley was certain that the frantic little dog was going to bite her.
“It’s okay, boy, it’s okay,” she told the dog in a low, soothing voice. “I’m here to help. Let me get to your master.”
In response, the dog ran back to the person on the floor, as if showing her the way.
“That’s it, boy, take me to—”
Ashley’s voice felt suddenly trapped in her throat as she quickly followed the terrier to where the person lay.
Horror filled her.
She didn’t remember crossing from where she was to the body, but she obviously had to have moved because the next thing Ashley knew she was dropping to her knees beside the victim, panic and a sense of urgency filling her at the same time.
The person on the floor was a woman.
Ashley knew all the rules about touching a victim and disturbing a crime scene. Each one of them began with the word Don’t.
But she was positive that she could make out just the faintest signs of breathing. The victim’s back was moving ever so slightly.
Amid all that blood, there was no visible wound in the back. It clearly had to be in the front.
If this woman had so much as a prayer of making it, Ashley knew that she had to find some way to stop the bleeding.
She began to talk to the victim as if the woman was conscious and could hear her. She talked to her the way she talked to a frightened, wounded animal. Slowly, soothingly.
“I’m with the police department,” Ashley said as she turned the woman to face her. “The ambulance is coming. Just hang in there—”
The rest of her words evaporated as she realized that the woman’s belly had been slashed open.
Everything began to grow dark, and Ashley struggled not to pass out.
Chapter 2
Exercising