Bleeding Green by Anne James Page B

dried blood.
    Bill kept his large hand under her head. “That was a lot of blood, I think she’s hurt bad.” He glanced at the blood-soaked knees of his dark green pants.
    Kneeling beside Laurel, Boyd said, “Keep her neck straight. I want to see her back.”
    Bill slid his forearm under Laurel’s head and placed his left hand on her forehead.
    “Ready?” Boyd asked as he glanced at Bill. He placed a hand on the young man’s arm. “Hey, buddy, you okay?”
    Bill gave a robust sniff. “Yup. I’m good. Thought I might toss my cookies but now I’m so mad, I just want to strangle the SOB that did this. I’m gittin’ over it. No, I don’t want to strangle him. I want to torture him slow. Real slow.”
    A grim smile touched Boyd’s lips as he gave Bill’s arm a pat. “I know just what you mean, buddy.”
    Their eyes locked in mutual understanding. Bill liked the feeling of support from his supervisor. A fellow could always count on Boyd to back him up. Not all managers had that quality. He knew that from many of the stories the rangers exchanged about their personal experiences in other parks around the state.
    In tandem, Bill supported Laurel’s spine as Boyd gripped her shoulder and hip turning the limp body a few inches, as he peered under her. He saw the blood-soaked shirt with a four-inch tear near her right shoulder. Blood was seeping out of the wound.
    Bill watched Boyd’s face sag as if he had just lost twenty years.
    Bowing his head for a moment, Boyd said, “Looks like she’s been stabbed pretty good. Let’s lay her back.”
    Sirens shrilled in the distance.
    An ambulance followed a large red fire truck. Taking up the rear was the county sheriff.
    Boyd strode out to meet them as they parked in empty campsites in front of the bathhouse. He gave them a quick rundown on the scene as they all jogged to the back of the restroom.
    Rounding the corner, the paramedics rushed to take over Bill’s job. One of the men placed two fingers on the carotid artery in her neck. He bent low turning his head sideways to see if he could hear or feel her breathing. “Got a pulse! She’s breathing.” Looking up at his partner he said, “Get a stretcher over here and let’s get some fluids going.”
    Lt. Meer and Bureau Chief Staley rounded the corner of the bathhouse at a jog, colliding with the beefy paramedic. With brief apologies exchanged, Meer and Staley rushed to Boyd.
    John Staley nodded at Boyd, “She alive?”
    “She’s breathing. Just barely.” A wry smile sat on his lips for a moment. He nodded back at his chief, with a voice full of irony, said, “You know that expression we use in the park service for dedicated, devoted employees? Well, Laurel Grey is truly bleeding green.”
    Lt. Meer scanned Boyd’s face as he answered. She saw intense concern and fear. Checking to make sure Laurel was receiving prompt medical care, Carolyn approached Ranger Bill and grasped his elbow, noting the yellowish-green color of his face.
    “You okay, Bill?”
    Bill nodded at Lt. Meer. “Yes, ma’am. But I don’t know if she’s gonna make it.” Tears welled up in his eyes as he hung his head.
    She gave him a half-hug with one arm. In a low voice she said, “Laurel will make it, Bill. She’s a fighter.” She hugged him again. “Are you able to answer some questions and take me through the events as you saw them?”
    Bill lifted his handsome face and sparks seemed to shoot from his cornflower blue eyes.
    “Lieutenant, we have to catch this sick bastard!”
    “We will, Bill. We will. We already have a pretty good idea where to start. Now ...” She was interrupted as Bill dashed for the woods.
    Making it about twenty feet he leaned against a pine, falling to his hands and knees vomiting.
     
     

Chapter 12
     
     
    L aur el opened her eyes. She felt her hand clasped. The patrician features of Brodie’s lovely profile came into view. Gentleness and peace radiated from her soul. Why did she look so sad and