While patrolling a remote road late at night, I spotted movement near a ditch. It was a woman, barefoot, in a bathrobe, and clearly terrified. I approached carefully, but she backed away, crying, “Please don’t hurt me!” Then came the shocker: “My husband and his mom did this.” What she revealed next made my blood run cold, and forced me to call for immediate backup…
I approached her slowly, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible. "Hey, it's okay," I said. "I'm here to help. Let's get you some help, alright?" She nodded, though her eyes still held fear. I radioed for medical assistance, keeping my voice steady as I explained the situation. In the silence of the night, my words felt loud. She looked at me, a glimmer of hope crossing her eyes.
I opened the door to the patrol car, motioning for her to sit. "Let's get you warm," I suggested. She hesitated but eventually settled into the passenger seat. Her hands were trembling, but she tried to relax. "Thank you," she whispered, exhaustion evident in her voice. The engine's hum was comforting, providing a brief respite from the chaos outside. I kept an eye on her, ready to offer any comfort she needed.
Soon, the ambulance pulled up. The paramedics were quick, their practiced hands checking her vitals. "She's stable but needs a hospital," one said, giving me a nod. I briefed them on the little I knew, feeling the weight of the situation. Susan, as she introduced herself, seemed relieved by their presence. I assured her, "You're in good hands now, Susan." She managed a small smile, her courage shining through.
We started the drive to the nearest hospital, the road stretching out ahead. I filled out the initial incident reports, jotting down her details and what had happened so far. Susan sat quietly, eyes closed, sometimes mumbling. Her story stuck with me, weighing on my mind like an unsolved puzzle. Who could do this to her? As the hospital came into view, I knew we were just beginning to scratch the surface.