“Shh, it’s okay, baby,” I tried my best to soothe her despite the rage coursing through my veins.
“It was him,” her voice shook as she buried her head against me, finding comfort in the close contact.
“Did you see him?” I kept her tight against me as the older couple approached in matching flannel. She shook her head as they answered for her, concern obvious on both of their aged and weathered faces.
“We had just stepped out to enjoy our coffee, whoever was driving had one of those black, what do you call it?” The man started, lost for the word he was seeking.
“Ski masks,” his wife added for him, patting his back gently.
“Yeah, a ski mask.”
“Did you see what he was driving?” I asked, cradling her shaking body against me.
“Sure did,” he said, “A white Malibu, no license plates though. He was waiting at the park, and had been sitting there a while.” The man pointed across the street where a park was located with a walking trail along the river. No houses sat on that side of the road, giving him plenty of room to see when she would arrive on the trail.
“We called the police already,” his wife added, holding up the quilt she must have had wrapped around Raelynn. “I’ve been trying to keep her warm.”
Thanking her, I took the blanket and tucked it around her before wrapping my arms around her back.
“You’re more than welcome to bring her inside to wait; it’s rather chilly this morning,” the man said, motioning for us to walk with him and his wife. I weighed the options; they hadn’t hurt her while she had been with them right after it happened, and even if they wanted to now, they had to be in their late seventies. I could easily overpower them if I needed to.
As we entered the house, the smell of mothballs hit me first, that telltale indicator of an old folks home. Floral prints and matching wallpaper assaulted my eyes. I tried my best not to judge them. They were old, and they were being helpful; I couldn’t exactly walk out of their house based on their choice in tacky nursing home decor.
The woman patted the couch, probably where Raelynn had been sitting before, which had a perfect view out of a baywindow overlooking the front yard and the road where my Jeep was parked. Raelynn gripped my shirt tighter as we sat on the couch. I kept her tucked close to my side while the couple sat in armchairs on either side of the bay window.
“Try drinking some of your tea, dear, it will help your nerves, it’s lavender and chamomile.” The older woman said, nudging the teacup in her direction. Raelynn looked less inclined to take it, but thanked the woman anyway.
“I’m Lucilie,” she said, folding her wrinkled hands in her lap over her jean skirt, “that’s my husband Walter.”
I introduced myself, and Raelynn, just in case, with all the chaos, she hadn’t gotten around to giving the couple her name. We didn’t get the chance to start much small talk as a police cruiser pulled into the driveway, two officers stepping out, one I had never met before. That wasn’t unusual, though. The town was small, but the police department had a decently high turnover as officers went on to bigger cities that offered better pay, from what Johnson had told me over drinks one night.
A knock on the door came as Walter slowly made his way over, his age showing in his movements. He didn’t seem capable of standing up straight, his hand resting on his lower back as he stubbornly neglected the cane that was propped up against his chair.
“Come on in, officers,” he greeted, letting the two men inside the quaint little home.
“We got a call about someone being involved in a hit and run?” The first officer spoke, his dark head was void of any hair, given how young he was, it was probably by choice. His body language was relaxed, though he kept his hands resting on his utility belt. “I’m Officer Perdue, this is Officer Vaden.”
“Yes,” Lucilie said, “This young woman was run off the road while she was running, we saw it happen.”
Officer Vaden, just as young as his partner, walked to stand in front of Raelynn and me, taking in her appearance, making me realize I hadn’t even taken the time to look her over physically to make sure she was ok. She had run to me earlier and hadn’t seemed like she was suffering any major injuries.
“Are you okay, miss?” He asked, his tone not as pleasant as I would have preferred, given the circumstances. He sounded more annoyed than anything.
She nodded, sitting up and slightly away from me, “A few scrapes, but I think I’m fine, I was able to roll into the ditch.” She shrugged the quilt off her shoulders and rolled up the sleeves of her tie-dye sweatshirt. She had a few scrapes on both of her arms, the blood now dried, though one deep one that marred the tattoos on her left arm seemed to still be a little wet. It wasn’t actively bleeding, so I doubted it needed stitches.
“Do you mind if I take some photos for our report?” Officer Perdue asked gently, taking a digital camera out of a pouch on his belt.
I felt her tense beside me; they had put her through the same ordeal at the clinic, taking dozens of photographs of her body. It was mandatory for all patients; they didn’t get a choice. She nodded, though, putting on a brave face and holding her arms out.
“There are a few on my legs too,” She let him take a few photos of her arms before rolling up her yoga pants, letting him take a few of her legs. Leaves and grass were still sticking out of her hair. She was lucky that a few scrapes and bruises were all she would walk away with physically.
“Can you tell us what happened?” Officer Vaden asked as his partner put the camera away.
“I was on a run this morning, and a white car came out of nowhere and started driving right at me while I was on the trail,” She pointed out the window.
“Did you see what type of car it was?” Officer Perdue asked, both of them now making notes in their notebooks.
“I did,” Walter spoke from where he leaned against the back of his now-empty armchair. “It was a white Malibu, but it didn’t have any plates. He did it right outside our house.”
