First to Die (11 page)

I yanked back again. "Stop fighting it," he said.

The back of my hand slowly moved across his soft lips and he pinched my flesh between his teeth. I was a puppet. He pressed his lips on the mark he left, and whispered, "You're not going to win." Then he cut the strings and let my hand fall from his grip.

I wanted to say something witty. A deflective, smart-ass remark, but the words wouldn't come out. He’d caught me off guard. I completely lost my voice and I could feel a hot sensation burning deep inside, leaving another mark. Resisting Jason was like trying to stop the natural flow of oxygen. I held my breath. My heart was pounding hard and I felt like it was going to rip a hole in my chest. I could feel the sweat beading and rolling down the side of my cheek. I brushed it back with both hands and let out a deep, exhausting huff. "Awfully sure of yourself."

He leaned across the table "When I want something."

"I'm not a toy." I placed my napkin on the table.

"I'm not playing." His eyes locked onto mine.

"Either am I." I stared at him and didn't back down. I felt the blood rush to my face and color me an awful red.

"I'm not going to leave you." His voice was low and steady.

I jumped up and tossed money on the table. "Everybody always leaves."

He sat there with his eyes as wide as the saucers sitting underneath our coffee cups. "Where you going?"

I was so upset I ran right into Frankie carrying a big tray of food. The tray that I was determined to avoid.
Thump. Bump. Scream
. I tried to catch the wobbly disk, but the weight and law of gravity overpowered the both of us. I wondered what colors would be painted on my clothes once this latest ordeal was over. My arms flew over my head, and I took cover from the blast as the plates and glasses flew into the air and exploded on the floor. It was a lovely end to a perfect lunch, I thought. I opened my wallet and handed Frankie the only twenty that I had left to pay for my reckless exit. I apologized, hung my head and Jason escorted me out as I performed the walk of shame.

Chapter 15

A
week in the slammer. That's how it felt. Locked in a cage. Panting. Circling. Pacing. Days of starvation and the inability to swallow what they fed me when they finally came around with the food tray. Opening my mouth, and chewing on the words, clean scene and tortured alive, choked any anticipation that I had for escape and pushed me further behind the steel bars. False leads, U-turns, and dead ends. I circled my cage like a crazed animal.

The concrete sanded the soles of my boots down to my last pair of clean socks and my voice was cracked and raspy. If anyone knew anything, they weren't talking. Lack of evidence pushed Ward’s case against me, in his favor, and he made sure everybody knew about it. Kelly was in over her head, and I was beginning to believe it.

The entire department was working overtime and they were dropping faster than the flasher’s pants that we pulled in last night. Most of them were working the power shift, from seven p.m. to three a.m., pulling in anyone that looked suspicious. They were working hard and burning out fast. They were desensitized. Not by choice, but for means of survival. There’d been so much crime this week that the victims and assailants became numbers. I could no longer distinguish one from another. I was losing my patience. Any compassion that I’d had disappeared into the buckled pavement beneath my feet.

I was still on edge and Billy Randall was off limits until he settled down. I offered to help find him a therapist but his parents wanted nothing to do with it. Bill Sr. laughed at me, and slammed the phone in my ear. I thought it was a great idea. I’d had plenty of them through the years and look how I turned out. A bag of mixed nuts.

The news stations buzzed with the precision of a beehive, working endlessly to produce the sweetest story. No one could resist their tasty tale of murder. I made the mistake of turning on the twelve o'clock news while I was inhaling my lunch. Ivy was giving us the latest breaking news on The Reaper. Over the years, she’d dug her way out of the Channel 2 trenches with award-winning investigative reporting. Managed to land herself the lead crime investigator position and then something went horribly wrong. Her head blew up to the size of a hot air balloon traveling out of control. "The alleged killer, Billy Randall," flew out of her mouth like a bullet.

"Shit," I yelled and gagged on my corned beef and rye. Had she gone and lost her mind? The nice, straightforward, truth-telling, perky blond turned viper overnight.

I took the last bite of my sandwich, waited until she was off the air and dialed Ivy's number.

"Ivy Knox," she said, knowing that it was me on the other end of the line.

"Really, Ivy?" I paced the floor. "What's the matter with you?" I paused. "Billy Randall?" I growled.

"Don't I get a hello?" She was trying to soften me up.

"No, dammit," I shouted "Why would you air something like that?"

"I know how to report" She said, trying to defend herself. "I used the word alleged."

"Yes, you did, like an idiot. You know when you put alleged and killer followed by a name, you might as well say guilty." People want answers and somehow the word alleged disappears. I was out of my chair and pacing the floor. "Jesus, Ivy, he's not even a suspect. And he's a minor." When Bill Randall, Sr., gets a whiff of what she's selling, he's going to shove it right back in her face. Right along with a lawsuit. I leaned on the wall for support.

"Everybody's a suspect until you lock somebody up."

I couldn't believe she said that. "No, fruitcake, that’s not how it works and you know it." We were back to our usual bickering. "Yesterday, it was the poor homeless man and the day before that it was one of the kids from The Fins gang. This has got to stop."

"I have to do my job." She huffed.

"The only job you're worried about is getting ratings and shiny little statues." She had six of them on display.

"That's not true."

I think that she actually believed that. "Oh, please. Then retract it or whatever you do." It was a heavy request.

"I'm not doing it." Her voice raised. I've got a good source that tells me differently," she snapped back at me.

"Who?" I stayed calm.

"Don't be stupid."

Now I was pissed again. "Well, your source is feeding you inaccurate information." She wasn't gullible or naive.

"Then give me something I can use." She knew that I wouldn't, but I didn't blame her for trying.

"You know I can't disclose information in an ongoing investigation."

"Any info about that creepy guy in my news report from last week?"

"No, I already told you that." The scary man from her report was a mystery.

"I have no choice but to work with my source."

"Fine. If you don't fix it on the five o'clock, my next call is going to be to your boss." The threat was futile because her boss was a jackass and it would never happen. I had to try.

"Are you coming over tonight?"
Not anytime soon
, I wanted to tell her.

"No, I'm not. I'm so tired that I could pass out right here." That was the truth.

"All right, Sam, but you’re going to miss out some yummy imported wine and filets, and Jason is stopping by." I’d already told her that I wasn't coming earlier in the week. She knew that I would be going into hibernation as soon as the weekend arrived. No matter what Ivy was serving, it would be elaborate. She had been planning this get-together for the past month. All the bells and whistles and it would be the topic of conversation until the next one.

"I know. I don't have the energy to play nice."

"When do your ever play nice?"

I had to laugh. She was right about that. I had been in a pissy mood for days, and I was well aware of the damage I could do if I was cut loose on an innocent crowd.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of meetings and disagreements. The afternoon shift was making another attempt to go house-to-house in a four block area for more statements and alibi follow ups, collect any addition information and the hotline leads were being sorted and prioritized. "Thank you, everyone, and I appreciate you putting in the extra time," I said, inching my way out of the briefing room.

"Will you be available this weekend if something happens?" Cole poked his head up.

"Yes, of course," I yelled back. I’d alerted Jason and the rest of the crew that I was taking a two-day vacation. They knew what that meant. I wasn't answering the phone and I wasn't leaving the house unless it was going up in flames. "Don't call me unless it's an emergency," I yelled as Max and I headed to the back door of the station. If somebody wanted something bad enough, they wouldn't think twice about banging on my door.

Neville shouted back from one of the cubicles, "Hey, what about my midnight coffee break?"

Crap, I couldn't say no the guy who’d saved my life more times than I could count. Then again, he was the one that got me into the shit in the first place. "Do a drive by. If I'm up, I'll make you a pot." I laughed.

"I'm just yanking your chain, I'm going prowling tonight." He stood up and threw a plastic bag at me. "Maggie sent these for Max."

Maggie Neville was like no other. She knew everyone's favorite cake and baked it to perfection. Not one birthday was ever missed, including shit bird Ward’s. And how she managed to put up with Mike's shenanigans, I will never understand. "Send Maggie instead," I said, lifting the bag of peanut butter doggy treats to my nose and heading out the door.

I pulled in the driveway ten minutes after dark. I was surprised that I’d still had enough sense to leave a light on. I was exhausted, but I could finally feel the weight of the past week fall away. I cut Max loose and she took off down the winding path towards the river. I didn't have the energy to follow. It was quiet and the moist air coming from the water washed over me like a soothing bath. I took every bit of it in, knowing that the sedating effect would wear off before I had a chance to heal from the wounds. Max raced back and we wrestled our way through the only door that offered retreat. I switched my cell to silent and shut the blinds one by one, cutting us off from the outside world.

***

The party came to an abrupt halt Sunday night. The clock raced forward and my time was limited. My heart doubled its pace. Tomorrow, I would have to face the music, dodge the backlash, and come up with a better plan of attack. The thought of reliving the treacherous course of last week’s defeat settled back in place and cranked my blood pressure beyond the normal limits. It was the Harper case all over again.

I didn't want my little vacation to end. I fought my way up the stairs, kicking and screaming with every step I took. I was grateful for the time and no disruptions. I stopped in front of the huge mirror in my room. That was a mistake. The reflection scared me. I looked like I’d aged ten years. Lines I hadn't noticed before. Purple and black puffy stuff under my eyes. I turned to the side and lifted my shirt. The stress diet took at least five pounds. "Who are you?" I whispered to the face that I didn't recognize. "What the hell happened to you?"

I crawled into bed next to Max and buried myself under the covers. It wasn't long before I was rehashing the conversation that I’d had with Ivy on Friday. I turned to the other side. Her source? Right. I was her source and I’d kept my mouth shut and it pissed her off. Someone was feeding her some shit. I turned back. I loved her like a sister. She didn't lie to me, but I didn't know if I could trust her anymore. Not when it came to this case and her latest reporting skills. I pulled the covers further over my head and turned back to the other side. I heard Max crawl as I discharged myself from the conversation.

Chapter 16

T
he sound of a motor hummed in my ears and it was getting louder as I approached the cemetery. The sun danced on the tips of the trees along the edge of the forest and the gates were closing faster than I could run. My heart was pushing out through my chest and my lungs burned from the forced pressure. A few more minutes and I would make it. Please, just a few more minutes. "Wait," I screamed, but was met with only silence. I saw a girl stretching her arms out to me, but I couldn't reach her. I heard the rustling of footsteps and the snap of branches behind me, lunging closer. My legs were working against my will and slowing me down. I felt the jagged nails latch onto my back and rip pieces of my flesh.

The motor roared again and pulled me from my nightmare. Max scratched at my back. I sat straight up, laboring for air, choking on the horror of the nightmare, and Max was now growling at the end of the bed.

I managed to catch my breath and sat silent to listen for the sound that Max was trained on. I couldn't match her ability and heard nothing but her low, steady growls. I grabbed my gun from the nightstand, pushed myself out of the bed and tiptoed across the room. Max was getting agitated and lunged for the door, headed down the hall. I sank my feet into my boots and sprinted behind her. My heels hit the wood like drum beats warning of an impending war and barking faded out into the night by the time I reached the bottom of the stairs. The back door was open and Max was gone. I followed her without hesitation, a move that could end in disaster. I was defenseless out in the open, but I couldn't lose her.