neck. As I already knew, he was dead. My fingers trembled and slipped in the blood on his neck, covering my hand with it.
That’s when I threw up, and that’s when I heard the sound.
I stood, doubled over, and listened. It was a low guttural noise, a man. The sound repeated, getting louder and stronger. It sounded just like the movies when Jason or Freddy Krueger was getting ready to hack some unsuspecting female to death. My fight-or-flight response kicked in. I turned on my heel sharply, ready to run out of there as fast as I could. I was betting I could run pretty fast.
But I turned too sharply, and my heel got caught on the carpeting, and I was sent careening forward. I fell toward Dr. Dulur, flinging my arms around in a wild attempt to defy gravity, anything not to land on him. Like a slapstick comedy routine, my limbs took on a life of their own, swaying and circling through the air, trying to alter the inevitable. And it worked. I narrowly missed Dr. Dulur by inches, falling on all fours to the sticky, blood-soaked floor with a thud and hurting my knee again. Trying to alleviate the pain and get out of the bloody puddle, I quickly changed positions, attempting to hop up, not knowing how close my shoulder was to the dentist chair.
I knocked it with force, making it sway. My hand flewto my shoulder, which was probably bruised, and I felt another hand clap on top of mine. I froze. I’m sure my heart stopped. I gasped for air and thought of my face—not bad, some would even say pretty, and I didn’t want to lose it. Then I heard a thud. I turned to see Dr. Dulur’s leg had fallen off the chair, and I realized it was his hand on top of mine. I swallowed a scream, and tears filled my eyes. As if in slow motion, although really fast for a dead guy, Dr. Dulur rolled off the chair, landing directly on top of me.
I probably turned green, because suddenly I was imbued with Incredible Hulk strength. Pushing Dr. Dulur off me, I scattered to my feet and ran for the exit. I got all the way to Bliss Dental’s front door, but Nathan Smith, the dental assistant, was blocking the exit. He was lying slumped in the doorway. I recognized his moaning as the sound I heard earlier. I wanted to jump over him and run for my life, but the Good Samaritan part of me interfered, and I knelt down to see how he was.
The back of his head was bleeding, and he was going in and out of consciousness.
“Nathan?” I asked. “Are you all right? What happened here?”
“I tried to get away,” he said. “But he hit me from behind.”
“You saw the person who did this?”
“A shadow. A large shadow.”
I USED the Bliss Dental phone and got through to the police after trying Spencer, whose phone was off. I stayed with Nathan and urged him to stay awake until help arrived. I was covered in my own vomit and Dr. Dulur’s blood. I had witnessed something gruesome, and according to every medical show on TV, my shivering meant that shock was setting in. Nathan gave nomore information. He was holding on through his own shock and pain. I sat by him in the doorway for no more than ten minutes before what looked like Cannes’s entire police force and fire department arrived.
Paramedics whisked Nathan off to the hospital, and after ascertaining that none of the blood that covered me from head to toe was my own, they handcuffed me, read me my rights, and shoved me in the back of a police car.
Despite knowing most of the police force, despite the fact that my photo was hanging in their processing room and they affectionately called me Underwear Girl, I was practically bathed in Dr. Simon Dulur’s blood, my belongings were found next to his corpse, and my fingerprints had to be all over him. There was the pesky problem of not finding the dentist’s missing face, but otherwise, they thought they had a pretty airtight case against me.
They looked at me differently. I thought I detected fear, but I wasn’t in my right mind, and it could have been
That’s when I threw up, and that’s when I heard the sound.
I stood, doubled over, and listened. It was a low guttural noise, a man. The sound repeated, getting louder and stronger. It sounded just like the movies when Jason or Freddy Krueger was getting ready to hack some unsuspecting female to death. My fight-or-flight response kicked in. I turned on my heel sharply, ready to run out of there as fast as I could. I was betting I could run pretty fast.
But I turned too sharply, and my heel got caught on the carpeting, and I was sent careening forward. I fell toward Dr. Dulur, flinging my arms around in a wild attempt to defy gravity, anything not to land on him. Like a slapstick comedy routine, my limbs took on a life of their own, swaying and circling through the air, trying to alter the inevitable. And it worked. I narrowly missed Dr. Dulur by inches, falling on all fours to the sticky, blood-soaked floor with a thud and hurting my knee again. Trying to alleviate the pain and get out of the bloody puddle, I quickly changed positions, attempting to hop up, not knowing how close my shoulder was to the dentist chair.
I knocked it with force, making it sway. My hand flewto my shoulder, which was probably bruised, and I felt another hand clap on top of mine. I froze. I’m sure my heart stopped. I gasped for air and thought of my face—not bad, some would even say pretty, and I didn’t want to lose it. Then I heard a thud. I turned to see Dr. Dulur’s leg had fallen off the chair, and I realized it was his hand on top of mine. I swallowed a scream, and tears filled my eyes. As if in slow motion, although really fast for a dead guy, Dr. Dulur rolled off the chair, landing directly on top of me.
I probably turned green, because suddenly I was imbued with Incredible Hulk strength. Pushing Dr. Dulur off me, I scattered to my feet and ran for the exit. I got all the way to Bliss Dental’s front door, but Nathan Smith, the dental assistant, was blocking the exit. He was lying slumped in the doorway. I recognized his moaning as the sound I heard earlier. I wanted to jump over him and run for my life, but the Good Samaritan part of me interfered, and I knelt down to see how he was.
The back of his head was bleeding, and he was going in and out of consciousness.
“Nathan?” I asked. “Are you all right? What happened here?”
“I tried to get away,” he said. “But he hit me from behind.”
“You saw the person who did this?”
“A shadow. A large shadow.”
I USED the Bliss Dental phone and got through to the police after trying Spencer, whose phone was off. I stayed with Nathan and urged him to stay awake until help arrived. I was covered in my own vomit and Dr. Dulur’s blood. I had witnessed something gruesome, and according to every medical show on TV, my shivering meant that shock was setting in. Nathan gave nomore information. He was holding on through his own shock and pain. I sat by him in the doorway for no more than ten minutes before what looked like Cannes’s entire police force and fire department arrived.
Paramedics whisked Nathan off to the hospital, and after ascertaining that none of the blood that covered me from head to toe was my own, they handcuffed me, read me my rights, and shoved me in the back of a police car.
Despite knowing most of the police force, despite the fact that my photo was hanging in their processing room and they affectionately called me Underwear Girl, I was practically bathed in Dr. Simon Dulur’s blood, my belongings were found next to his corpse, and my fingerprints had to be all over him. There was the pesky problem of not finding the dentist’s missing face, but otherwise, they thought they had a pretty airtight case against me.
They looked at me differently. I thought I detected fear, but I wasn’t in my right mind, and it could have been
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