Cowboy Defender. Carla Cassidy

      “It’s sulfuric acid.”

      “S...sulfuric...” Her voice trailed away as stunned shock swept through her. She stared at Clay and then looked down at her sweater. The acid had already begun eating away at the cotton threads.

      Her knees weakened and the crowd around them blurred. Acid. As she thought about what would have happened if the liquid had hit her face, a chill she had never felt before iced her entire body.

      Clay pulled her close to his side, along with the two children who obviously knew something was horribly wrong. She leaned into him, desperately needing his warmth, his strong support.

      “We need to call Dillon,” he said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

      “Sh...should we pick up the sweater?” she asked, her teeth chattering in her head.

      “No. Don’t touch it,” Clay replied and then he connected with Dillon. He told the chief of police what had happened and where they were located and then hung up.

      “He should be here in just a few minutes.”

      He tightened his arm around her, as if knowing she needed his strength, his body heat to pull her back from complete hysteria.

      It had to be some sort of a horrid mistake. If it wasn’t, then that meant somebody had just tried to hurt her, to disfigure her with acid.