Lalla Bains 02 - A Dead Red Heart - Plot & Excerpts
Lalla! Can you hear me?" "Roger that." I wasn't exactly connected when I said it, and then when I did, knew it sounded goofy. Del? Where's Del? "Are you hurt? Lalla, answer me." I was relieved to hear a woman's voice and see a pair of dark slacks kneeling beside me. Thank God, it was a policewoman. Clutching at my savior's pant leg, I pulled myself up into a sitting position next to a bag of take-out boxes spilled out onto the pavement. Grace Kim. Her white shirt and black slacks must've made me think she was a police officer, though Modesto police wore brown, not black. "Grace, how nice," I said, woozy from the head crack on the ground. "You brought me take-out." With a tight nod at my feeble attempt to make light of the incident, she pulled me to my feet. When I winced at the painful scrapes on my elbow, she shifted her grip to my bicep and held on till I stopped swaying. "I was across the street," she said, wiping at leaves clinging to my clothes. "This guy comes running out of the parking lot.
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