A First Date with Death Read Free Page A

his hand. “Hey, Marty.”
    “I’m a doctor,” Edward said.
    Martinez ignored him and called for an ambulance into the walkie-talkie attached to his shoulder.
    The fact that I was on the wrong side of things struck me hard. I was the one who was supposed to be communicating with SFPD, but I was no longer one of them . . .
    That realization drew an involuntary noise from my throat, something akin to keening.
    “You look like hell, Thorn,” Martinez said.
    I regained my composure and said, “Thanks. So kind of you to say.”
    Martinez smiled. “Okay, if you’re still able to be a smart-ass, I think you’ll live.” He raised his eyebrows at Edward. “’Course, I ain’t no doctor. Why don’t you take her to the RV like you said and I’ll check on you guys in a minute.”
    Edward nodded as two more patrol cars pulled over. I glanced at them: Lee and Schrader.
    Everyone would now be responding to the code Martinez had put out.
    No Paul yet, though. Thank God.
    “Where’s Paul?” I asked Martinez. “Will he be here?”
    I cringed. The last thing I needed was for Paul to show up and, yet, my voice had semibetrayed me. It almost sounded hopeful.
    Martinez’s walkie-talkie crackled. “He’s in court today.”
    A shudder went through my body. I took it as relief, but Edward said, “I need to get her warmed up before she goes into shock.”
    He didn’t wait for Martinez to respond.
    Inside the coach, Edward wrapped me in a blanket and squeezed my hand. “Do you have any brandy here?”
    “What?” I asked.
    He shrugged. “It calms the nerves.”
    “I thought that was an old wives’ tale,” I replied.
    The door to the RV banged open and the horror writer, Scott, stood there.
    “How’s she doing? The medics are here; they want to take a look at her.” He looked around at the white carpet and the mirrored ceilings. “Feels like Vegas in here.”
    A uniform peeked in. It was a firefighter I didn’t know. He asked me a series of questions.
    I answered as best I could, while eavesdropping on Scott and Edward.
    “Holy cow! I couldn’t have written something like that! Did you see him splat against the water?” Scott asked.
    Edward frowned and shook his head, motioning in my general direction.
    Scott didn’t take the hint. “I gotta see the footage the camera crew took. Unbelievable!”
    My disgust overtook me and I said, “How ghoulish.”
    Scott looked over at me, seemingly surprised that I’d overheard him. A lopsided smile filled his face. “You think that’s ghoulish? Hell, nobody gets out alive.”
    I made a mental note: Scott would be the first to get the boot.
    The fireman concluded that I had not suffered any physical trauma. Any trauma I felt was purely psychological. What else was new?
    When he left, Edward searched inside my refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water.
    Scott peered over Edward’s shoulder into the fridge. “What? No beer?”
    Edward ignored him and passed me the water along with a small white pill.
    “What’s this?” I asked, fingering the tiny tablet.
    “My personal stash,” he replied. “Consider it a fast prescription fill.”
    Scott oohed. “Give me some of that, man. I’ve been traumatized, too.”
    “Undoubtedly, but your trauma was too long ago to fix now,” Edward said. He turned to me. “Don’t worry, it’s only a Valium.”
    “No,” I said.
    Why this guy was a walking drugstore?
    Ordinarily, I’d have grilled him about it, but since we’d just witnessed a man plummet to his death . . . Oh, God. What if it had been foul play?
    The thought made my head ache.
    No, it had been a dreadful accident. I kicked off my shoes and climbed under the covers.
    The door to the RV popped open again and Martinez stuck his head inside. “We need statements from each of you.”
    Scott and Edward both got up.
    Scott squeezed my foot through the blanket. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
    “Oh, you have a heart after all?”
    He pinched my big toe.