Circle of Blood (Forensic Mystery)

this at Mariah.
    There was a tremor in Mariah’s voice as she said, “Yeah. I’ve got to get to Ouray. Your mom said she’d take me, but I’m still waitin’.”
    “And I will,” Hannah explained, each word as shiny as a freshly minted penny, “but when I saw her I knew something was wrong. I wanted to help.” Hannah smiled again, like something bursting. “I’m making sure Mariah is safe. It’s a dangerous world out there.”
    By maneuvering forward, Cameryn got her first really good look at the girl. Mariah’s nose, small and upturned, reminded her of the pretty dolls she used to line up on her windowsill, the kind with too-big eyes and lips the color of pink roses. Gingersnap freckles sprayed across Mariah’s entire face like a honey-colored constellation, and her brows, although unplucked, were perfect arches. She didn’t seem like a girl in danger. But then again, Cameryn wasn’t sure what a girl in danger looked like.
    Mariah bent forward so that she could look directly into Cameryn’s eyes. “Your mother said she was goin’ to Ouray.” It was as though all of Hannah’s earlier agitation had siphoned into the girl. Clutching her knees so hard her fingertips blanched white, Mariah said, “We need to be leavin’.” She seemed coiled up, ready to spring at the least provocation. In a way, Cameryn could understand why her mother did not want to turn this girl loose. Behind those pale eyes she could sense Mariah’s synapses firing wildly as the girl looked from Cameryn to Hannah and then back again. “Please.”
    It was clear Mariah wanted to leave and equally clear Hannah didn’t want her to go. The girl’s head turned like a ratchet when a group of men, snowboarders by the look of them, walked by, jostling each other, laughing. A truck, followed by a red sedan, slowed before moving on.
    Once they passed, Mariah’s eyes grew wider. “You know what? I can’t stay here.” Muttering something Cameryn couldn’t understand, she bolted from the car, not even bothering to shut the door. For a moment Hannah watched the girl’s retreating figure. Then, stretching across the passenger seat, Hannah pulled the door shut and righted herself, stricken.
    “What was that all about?” Cameryn asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    “Why did you even pick her up? Hitchhikers can be dangerous.”
    “Not little girls. She was hiding in the restroom at the gas station and she told me she was desperate. I know how desperate feels. I promised I’d help.”
    “What did she say just now? I couldn’t hear.”
    “She said, ‘God helps those who help themselves.’ I—” Hannah stopped abruptly as she stared at the floor, her eyes wide. “Oh my God!”
    “What?”
    “No.” The eyes narrowed to slashes. “No!”
    “Mom, what is it?” Cameryn asked, straightening so she could see inside the car. “What’s wrong?”
    That’s when she saw her mother’s purse. The black leather gaucho handbag lay open on the floor. Scooping it up, Hannah dumped the contents on the passenger seat, quickly sifting through them. Her face twisted. “My wallet—she stole my wallet!”
    “Are you sure?”
    “Of course I’m sure!” With her arm Hannah swept the contents of her purse onto the car floor. “I used my card to buy gas. What am I going to do without money?” She slammed her fist against the steering wheel. “That little thief! ”
    Cameryn had never seen a person’s mood change so fast; it was as if a tornado had suddenly landed inside her mother’s small body. “Go and get my wallet!” she cried. “Run! Catch her!”
    “Me?”
    “ Please!” Muscles stretched and pulled on Hannah’s neck like cords beneath her skin. “Jayne’s pictures are in my wallet! I need them!”
    It took Cameryn only a moment to decide. She could still see the girl’s bright blue jacket on the sidewalk ahead. As she sprinted, Cameryn’s teeth jarred with every step, her body on automatic. Her mother had told her to get back her wallet, and if she could, she would. Hannah needed her.
    Over the icy streets, over the dingy gray mounds of snow, Cameryn flew. Mariah had turned west on Greene Street, and Cameryn, determined, followed in hot pursuit. The girl had a head start but had been slowed by a backpack, bulky and oversized for her small frame. Her braid was long, whipping through the air as she ran. Once Mariah looked over her shoulder, and for a moment they caught each other’s eyes: Mariah’s were scared. Cameryn