CHAPTER 17The corners of Melanie Proctor’s eyes crinkled with kindness as she walked over, carrying an old athletic bag, to where Bohannon sat on the bricks. She knelt next to the detective and set down the bag. From it she took a bottle of water and a towel, and wiped at Bohannon’s head. He was a mess. Blood had matted his hair and was beginning to dry on the side of his face. But he didn’t seem to be in any pain.
He pulled back from the attention, and the movement caused the cast to open and fall away from his leg. “You don’t have to do that,” Bohannon said to Mrs. Proctor. He looked up to Mara. “Could you fetch my crutches for me?”
Mara jogged up the wide stairs to retrieve the crutch Bohannon had tossed during the altercation.
“I don’t think you will be needing your crutches anymore
