Page 32 of Girl Long Gone

He revved his engine to hurry the jackass blocking him. Connor needed to do something and fast. One vehicle stood in between him and Gabriel. If he got out of his car and ran, he’d never get to Gabriel before he drove off with Evelyn. But the turn signal of the truck in front of him indicated the driver was waiting for Gabriel to move so he could take his spot at the curb. He had to get to Evelyn before it was too late.

Slamming his foot against the gas pedal, his car lurched forward and crashed into the truck in front of him. The driver swiveled around with a raised fist and shouts of rage.

Connor ignored him, his gaze focused on Gabriel. The bumper of his car shoved the tailgate of the truck, his tires spinning against the loose gravel on the street as all the horses under his hood moved the helpless pickup forward.

The front of the truck crunched into Gabriel’s car, pushing his front tires onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians shouted at him to stop, but he revved harder. He had to stop Gabriel from leaving, and this was the only way he could do it.

Gabriel jumped from the driver’s side door and sprinted down the sidewalk.

Connor slammed on the brakes, threw the car in park, and ran for Evelyn. The man from the truck he’d rear-ended opened his door as Connor passed and grabbed the back of his shirt, yanking him backward. His feet skidded against the ground, and he twisted around to face whoever the hell kept him from getting to Evelyn.

“What’s your problem, man?” the driver screamed. “I’m calling the cops.”

“I am a cop, so back off.” Connor towered over the man and jerked away from him. “Call an ambulance. Now.”

He searched the sidewalk for any sign of which way Gabriel had disappeared as he continued toward the car. Shit! Gabriel was nowhere in sight, and he couldn’t waste time asking the confused pedestrians which way he’d run. No way Evelyn would have gone with Gabriel so easily. He needed to get to her. If the asshole had hurt her...

He reached the back of the sports car and opened the door.

Evelyn lay on her back, sprawled across the backseat.

Connor ducked his head into the car and hovered over her still form. He did a quick scan of her body, but no marks or wounds gave evidence of what had happened. He pressed two fingers against the side of her neck.

Please, God, let there be a pulse.

A slow, thready rhythm beat against the pads of his fingers. She was alive, but something kept her from opening her eyes or reacting to his presence.

Lowering his knees to the floor of the car, he squeezed beside her and cupped her cheek with his palm. “Evelyn? Can you hear me? It’s Connor. I’ve got you. You’re safe. Can you open your eyes for me?”

The rush of adrenaline fled his system and made room for fear. His heart threatened to burst through his chest, and he fought to keep from letting his emotions spin out of control. He needed a clear head, and Evelyn needed medical attention.

A screeching siren competed with the blasting horns and chattering throng of people behind him. Relief loosened his rigid muscles a fraction. “Help’s on the way, Evelyn.”

A tiny flutter of movement shook her eyelids. She groaned and moved her head, pressing her cheek against his hand. Her brown ponytail spilled against his fingers, exposing her neck. Two red marks marred her smooth skin, as if someone had pressed prongs into her.

Or a taser.

Fury roared to life inside him. The asshole had tased her. If that wasn’t bad enough, he’d shot darts into her neck instead of just touching the unit to her skin.

The sirens grew closer, and the heavy slam of a door alerted him to the ambulance’s presence. He didn’t want to leave Evelyn, but he needed to tell them what happened and get the police here to canvas the area. He pressed his lips to her temple and whispered, “I won’t be far.”

Straightening out of the car, he pushed his way through the crowd and marched over to the EMTs. He grabbed his badge from the back pocket of his jeans for their inspection. “I’m Detective Mitchel. There’s a woman in the back of the silver sports car. Her pulse is weak, but I noticed slight movements from her a second ago. The two prong marks approximately an inch apart on her neck, as well as her lack of motor functions, indicate a taser wound.”

One EMT retrieved a bag from the ambulance while the other hurried toward Evelyn.

Connor grabbed his phone and called dispatch. He needed uniforms here ten minutes ago to hunt down Gabriel.

A deep baritone answered the phone. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“I have an attempted abduction in Astoria. Suspect fled on foot. Need assistance in canvassing the area and interviewing pedestrians.”

“Right away, sir.”

Connor disconnected the call and turned to face the crowd now pressing around him for answers. He held his palms in the air. “I need everyone to stay here and answer some questions. Did anyone see the man who ran from the car and which way he went?”

The man from the truck he’d rammed into stepped forward. “What about the woman? Is she all right?” Concern softened the heavy Brooklyn accent that had attacked him moments before.

“She better be.” Connor glanced back toward Evelyn.