Now or Never Read Free Page B

meant anything, just heard a car taking off in the dark. Then they saw the body—excuse me,
the victim
. A few minutes earlier, and they would have caught him in the act. Unlucky for her.”
    “Do we know her name?”
    “They’re working on it. She had no identification on her, no purse, no keys. Nothin’.”
    Harry nodded; there were thousands of young women in Boston, but both the other victims had been students and the odds were that this one was too. It would make the search easier. He expected that they would know her identity within hours.
    He drained his coffee cup and looked around for the machine. “I’m gonna get some more coffee, hang around here for a while just in case we—
she
gets lucky. Why don’t you check in at the precinct? Let them know where I am, and see how they’re doing on her identity and whatever else is going down.”
    “Will do.” Rossetti unfurled himself from the wall. He looked Harry in the eye. “Don’t take it personal, Harry. You’re just the cop doing his job.” He slapped him affectionately on the shoulder as he strode off down the gleaming, antiseptic-smelling corridor. “Never would have taken you for the emotional type. You should save it for the women. They love all that over-the-top stuff.
Madison County
and Clint Eastwood and all that.”
    Harry smiled. “And how would you know, Romeo?”
    “Casanova, y’mean—too old for Romeo.” His laughter echoed through the death-stalked corridor as he walked briskly away.
    Harry paced the corridor for an hour. He went downstairs and ate a bacon and egg sandwich in the cafeteria. Then he came back and paced some more. At noon he stepped out and walked Squeeze around the corner, where he bought a ham and Swiss on rye from Au BonPain. He shared it with the dog and gave him a bowl of water, then returned him to the car.
    The dog settled down on the backseat again, his head on his paws, his pale blue eyes gazing reproachfully up at Harry.
    “It’s a cop’s life, Squeeze,” Harry said as he slammed the door. “I warned you when you took me on, this is what it would be like.”
    They were the same words he had said to his wife ten years ago, but they hadn’t saved his marriage.
    The uniformed cop guarding the door had changed. “Afternoon, sir,” he said, saluting. “Officer Rafferty. I’ll be on duty until eight P.M. , sir. And Dr. Waxman is in with the victim now.”
    The doctor was standing at the foot of the bed studying her charts. He glanced around as Harry entered.
    “How’re you doin’, Harry?” He smiled. They were old acquaintances, veterans of a decade of trauma victims.
    “Pretty good. What about her?”
    “She regained consciousness briefly, about ten minutes ago.” He sighed regretfully. “At this point I’d be inclined to say it’s a triumph of spirit over matter. She’s stabilized, for the moment.” He shrugged. “Anything could happen.”
    Harry stared at her, willing her to wake up again. He ran his hands through his still-uncombed hair. “If she comes round, will she be able to talk?”
    “Your guess is as good as mine, though I’m not sure I’d advise trying it.”
    Their eyes met. “It may be our only chance to get him,” Harry said quietly. “She might know him. If she talks, she might save others.”
    “We’ll see.” Dr. Waxman slipped his charts back into the slot at the foot of the bed. “I’m needed down in Emergency. Are you going to keep vigil?”
    Harry nodded.
    “See you later, then.”
    Harry took a seat on the straight-back chair beside the bed. He looked at the girl, then glanced uncomfortably away. He felt like a voyeur, watching her sleeping. Only hers wasn’t real sleep. It might be a death watch.
    He stared at the ceiling, then at the jagged peaks and valleys that were her vital signs, blipping on the monitors in the corner. He was a good cop, a tough cop, but this helpless young woman had gotten to him.
    There was a knock on the door and Rossetti poked his