Cooked Goose

began to frantically dry off.
    “I’m at a phone booth,” the girl said between gasps. “I ran all the way here and I can’t breathe.”
    Savannah raced across the hall to her bedroom. She tucked the phone between her ear and shoulder and pulled a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from her dresser drawer. “That’s because you’re scared. Honey, try to take a couple of slow, deep breaths. Come on, do it with me. In... really slow... now out... that’s it. Again. And again. Now tell me where you are.”
    “I told you. I’m in a phone booth.”
    “I know, but where is the phone booth?” She struggled into the clothes and pulled on a pair of sneakers. “Are you near a store or—”
    “A service station... a Mobil. But it’s closed. There’s no one around.”
    “A Mobil station... orange groves... is it the one on Turner Canyon Road ?”
    “I think so.”
    “Where was the rapist, the last time you saw him?” Margie laughed, but it was the sound of hysteria. “He was flying across my car. I ran it into a water tank as hard as I could. I think it knocked him out. I didn’t hang around to find out. I got out of the car and ran like crazy.”
    “Good girl! You did great, Margie. I’m very proud of you. Is the phone booth where you are, well lit?”
    “Yes. When I opened the door, the light came on.“
    “Well, I want you to hang up and get out of the booth. Look around you. Is there any place you can hide... beside the building... in some bushes?”
    “There’s a pile of old tires next to a truck.”
    “Get between those tires and the truck and don’t move until I get there. It’ll take me about five or six minutes.” Savannah raced down the stairs and snatched her purse, gun and keys from the hall table. “As soon as we hang up, I’m going to call the police for you,” she told the girl. “Maybe they can get there first and—”
    “No! Don’t call the cops! That’s why I called you. I don’t want to talk to my stupid dad yet.” She began to cry again. “I just want to see you first, not him.”
    “Okay, okay. I’m on my way. Now hide and hang tight until I get there.”
    No sooner had Savannah turned the phone off than it rang again. Gran.
    She punched the button again. “Gotta go, Gran,” she said as she ran out the door. “Emergency.”
    “I understand. I’ll pray for you.”
    “Thanks, love you.”
    “You, too.”
    As Savannah sprinted down the driveway to her car, she said a couple of quick prayers herself. One to thank God for a grandmother who was astute enough to know, from three thousand miles away, when her granddaughter needed a prayer. And one for Margie... that the good Lord above would keep that rotten bastard away from the kid until Savannah could get to her.

CHAPTER TEN

    8:02 P.M.

    O n the way to the gas station on Turner Canyon Road , Savannah called Dirk on her cellular phone. When he didn’t answer at work, she gave him a ring at home. His sleepy “hello” told her he had hit the sack early, trying to make up for the sleep deprivation of the past forty-eight hours.
    Too bad. If she couldn’t enjoy a simple bubble bath, he sure as hell didn’t get snooze time.
    “You’ll never guess where I am,” she told him as she sped toward the edge of town and the agricultural area of the county.
    “I don’t care where you are,” he grumped.
    “He nabbed another one.”
    Mentally, she could see Dirk perk up like a bloodhound catching a whiff of raccoon scent. “Where? When?” He certainly didn’t sound sleepy now.
    “Just now, out on Turner Canyon Road . But forget about where and when. Ask me who?“
    “Ask you who?“
    “That’s right. Ask.”
    “Okay... who?”
    “Captain Bloss’s teenage daughter, Margie.”
    “No shit!”
    “Absolutely not a smidgen. But she got away from him before he could rape her, or worse. She called me at home and I’m on my way right now to pick her up.”
    “Where? Where are you going? Where is she?”
    She could hear him rushing around, throwing on clothes, just as she had done a few minutes ago.
    “I’ll tell you, but you can’t question her until I get her to a hospital or back to my house. She’s shook up and she said she didn’t want me to call the cops until we’ve had a chance to talk.”
    “Yeah, right. Where is she? Where are you picking her up?”
    “I’m not telling you unless you promise not to butt in.”
    “Butt in, my ass. I—”
    “Or your ass either. I don’t want to see any part