Love Inspired Suspense September 2015 #1 (6 page)

Lydia saluted. “Aye, aye.” Then to everyone, she said, “Thank you so much for this party. I needed it after the week I've had. I'll be back on Monday.” As the last word slipped from her mouth, she pictured a few days ago when the bomb exploded, and shuddered. So much had changed in that time. She would be glad when she returned to her normal routine.

She made her way toward the front entrance with her goodies. When she reached for the handle, the door opened, and she quickly stepped back. Jesse with Brutus beside him filled the entry.

“I saw your car. I thought I'd catch you to make sure Mitch will be okay to go home today.” Dust covered Jesse's black uniform.

“Did you go Dumpster diving?”

One corner of his mouth hiked up. “Searching for clues can be a dirty job.”

“I was coming to see you to give you and whoever else is working the site this.” She thrust the foil-wrapped sweets into his hand. “JoAnn makes the best cinnamon rolls.”

“Thanks.” He stared at the gift for a few seconds, then looked her in the eye. “Is Mitch cleared to leave?”

“Yes, but I want to take him home.”

“You think he might need a vet?”

“No, but Kate wasn't happy when I told her Brutus wasn't coming back tonight. Mitch is familiar with me. I've treated him several times this year, and best of all, I think Kate won't give me a hard time.”

“But you don't have a fenced backyard.”

“I think Kate will jump at the chance of walking him around out back. My little sis has taken after me as far as loving animals.”
Not much else, though.

“Are you sure you don't need Brutus?”

“Yes.” She wanted to see more of Jesse, but she needed to remember it was only a case to him.

“Then that's fine with me. I'm so used to Brutus being around that it was lonely without him.”

“Great. I'm going to load Mitch and some food into my car and take him home now. I need a long nap.”

Instead of leaving, Jesse moved inside and shut the door. “Did you get any sleep last night? I was hoping Brutus would help you feel safe.”

“He did. It was probably my four-hour nap yesterday that threw me off schedule.” Although that could be part of the reason, the main one was the man standing in front of her. Even in a dusty police uniform, he commanded a person's full attention.

“And you're taking another one today?”

“Yep. You can carry the canned food.”

After she showed him where it was kept, she took a leash and retrieved an excited Mitch from his cage. She adjusted her gait as the German shepherd adapted the way he walked with a missing back leg.

Out in the parking lot, Jesse set the food on the seat in back while Lydia helped the dog climb into the front seat of her gray Jeep. She shut the passenger door and came around the hood of the car.

“I thank you, and so does Kate, for letting us have Mitch.”

Jesse peered at the bomb site and back to Lydia.

“Does Jake know about Mitch's leg?”

“No, I wanted him off the critical list and stabilized first. He was really attached to his dog.”

She'd known that, but she had no choice if Mitch was to live. “I'd like to go with you when you tell him.”

“You don't have to. I can break the news to him.”

“It'll devastate him, but I feel I need to be the one. I made the decision and can explain the reason why Mitch lost his leg.”

Jesse's barrier he kept between them fell in place. “I'll let Jake know now that he can receive visitors, then if you want you can talk to him.”

Lydia slipped in behind the steering wheel, started the car and lowered her window. “Have you found anything helpful this morning?”

“Not yet, but every area has to be combed through.”

While Lydia drove away from the animal hospital, she glanced at Jesse in the rearview mirror, his legs planted a foot apart, his gaze tracking her as she pulled out into traffic. She sighed as he disappeared from her sight. Probably a good thing. She didn't need to have a wreck, staring at him when she should be driving.

* * *

Jesse squatted next to Brutus and rubbed his hand down his back. “Break time is over. We have to get back to work. Sorry about your buddy not coming home with us.”

As he rose and stretched, he thought about yesterday and spending more time with Lydia than he'd wanted. And yet, in the end, he didn't mind it because leaving Brutus with her and Kate felt like the right call. Even so, he'd stayed outside her house for an hour before leaving.

He couldn't shake what she'd told him about marrying Aaron. If he ever saw his high school friend, he'd throttle him. He'd known Aaron was a player and tried to warn her, but she'd refused to listen. If only she had... Would they have been together today? He'd asked himself that question quite a bit with conflicting answers each time. Now it was too late.

When he reached the bomb site, he picked up where he and Brutus had left off. Fifteen minutes into searching his section, his cell phone rang, his ring tone the call of a bull moose. He saw it was Thomas and asked, “I thought you were going to be at the bomb site. Has something happened?”

“Yes, but not another bomb. I got the autopsy information back on the waitress. She died from a large air embolism. After some investigation and looking at video feed, it has been ruled a murder. A medium
-size
d man was caught going into her room, dressed as an orderly, but no one on the staff fits his description. It turns out an orderly's badge was stolen in the locker room the day the waitress died.”

“Then we have a photo of the guy.”

“Sort of.”

Jesse surveyed the area. “What do you mean?”

“It looks like a disguise, although we'll use the photo. Even if our bomber is using disguises, maybe this will help us. I'm just not sure how accurate it will be and the orderly had an uncanny way of avoiding the cameras. I can't find anyone he interacted with on the floor. I'm almost at the bomb site.”

Jesse clicked off. If the waitress was murdered, then she must have seen something in the dining area or the bomber thought she did. What about Lydia? She couldn't remember, but the man wouldn't know that, and even if he did, he killed the waitress to get rid of a witness. Jesse tried calling Lydia on her cell phone, but she didn't answer. Spying Thomas's car pulling up, he hurried toward the detective.

Thomas met him partway. “I'm worried about Lydia. Did you just see her? Is she still at the animal hospital? I want to show her this picture.”

“Yes and no. She's taking Mitch home with her. I'd feel a lot better about that if the dog wasn't injured. I tried calling her cell phone, but she isn't picking up. She wouldn't be home yet.”

“Maybe she stopped somewhere. Doesn't have her cell. It died. We could be overreacting.”

Jesse frowned. “I'd rather be overreacting than have something happen. I'm going to her house. I'll take the picture to show her.”

“I'll have a patrol car near there go by Lydia's until you arrive. With this development, she needs police protection. Stay with her until I get everything set up. If this guy thought he needed to kill the waitress, then he must have thought she saw something. Lydia probably saw it, too.”

“Yeah, let's hope she did. There's no guarantee.” Jesse strode to his SUV and settled Brutus in the back. On the way he called her again, praying he was overreacting.

* * *

Lydia pulled into the driveway and punched a remote button to raise the garage door. “We're at my house, Mitch.”

The German shepherd perked up on the seat beside her.

“I'm going to take the food in first. I'll be right back, then I'll show you my house. I have a couple of cats I need to put in the bathroom until you all are properly introduced.”

Mitch cocked his head as though he understood every word she'd said. Dogs were attuned to a person's body language and tone of voice, so maybe he got the gist of it.

She rubbed the top of his head. “Then I'll take you for a walk out back.”

Lydia slid from the backseat and grabbed the box of cans. When she lifted it, a pang of pain stabbed her chest. Her bruised ribs were healing but not fast enough for her. With the dog food in her arms, she fumbled to open the door into the house. When it swung wide, she almost fell through the entrance. She recovered her balance but not before the box crashed to the tile floor. Her actions only reinforced her earlier pain. She hurried to close the door to the garage before one of her cats got out and decided to investigate the strange dog in her car.

As she picked up the dog food that had rolled from the box, she began to have reservations about Mitch. She hadn't really thought about her two cats. Mitch could appease Kate but cause an animal war in the house.

One of the cans landed under her kitchen table. She scooted a chair away and eased herself down to crawl after it. She grabbed it and backed out.

A sound caught her attention. Footsteps? The cats? Where were they? They were always in here greeting her when she returned home.

She rose slowly, her body already protesting the physical exertion. Her gaze swung from one end of the room to the other. Her cats weren't in the kitchen. She needed to find them to lock them up. It would take time to acclimate Charlie to Mitch. Cheri wouldn't have any trouble, so she would start with her.

Lydia headed for the dining room that flowed into the living room, calling their names. They usually came when she called, but occasionally they would ignore her. When she stopped in the foyer, she heard a cry coming from the hallway to the bedroom. She didn't want to leave Mitch alone in a new place for long, so she hurried toward the sound Cheri was making, like the cry of a baby.

The noise continued, emanating from her room at the end. As she approached, she tried to remember if she'd closed the door. Sometimes she did. She'd been rushing this morning and—

Her home phone rang.

The ringing of the phone cut through the silence. She gasped at the sudden sound and glanced over her shoulder. She froze. A man in a ski mask emerged from her bathroom. All she saw was the long knife in his hand.

SIX

J
esse disconnected his phone and stepped on the accelerator. She didn't even answer her house phone. Was she outside walking Mitch?

He was still ten minutes out, and he couldn't shake that something was wrong. What if the bomber followed her from the animal hospital and ran her off the road or...

He shook the what-ifs from his mind. It would only distract him from getting to Lydia. He took a sharp curve ten miles over the speed limit. At least Thomas had called for a patrol car to go to Lydia's. But what if there wasn't an officer available in the area?

He clenched his jaw, hoping to make her house in half the time.

* * *

Not taking her eyes off the knife in the man's hand, Lydia lunged for her bedroom door, shoved it open, whirled around and banged it shut. She threw the lock in place, then backed away.

Off to the side Cheri perched on her bed, wailing as though she was being assaulted. Something slammed against the door. The lock held. But not for long. The wood wasn't thick. She went to her bedside table to retrieve her father's revolver. As her assailant attacked the flimsy barrier, his pounding fist vied with her heartbeat—ever increasing. Although the weapon was always loaded, she checked to see if the gun had bullets in every chamber. Empty! The spare ammunition was kept in a hall closet.

Her cell was in the car. Why wasn't there an extension of the home phone in here? She frantically looked around for any kind of weapon to use. Nothing useful against a knife. Her gaze fell on the window at the end of her bed. Maybe if she could climb out of it and escape...

A crashing sound, as if the intruder was throwing his body against the door, rattled the pictures on the wall nearby. She rushed to the window and fought to unlock it. It wouldn't budge. After wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans, she poured all her strength into trying one last time before she searched for something to break the glass. The bolt gave way, and she shoved the window up.

The sound of sirens—not far away—echoed in the air. Suddenly an eerie silence came from the hallway. What was the intruder doing? Looking for something else to smash the door open? Either way she had to get out of her bedroom. The sirens probably weren't for her.

She poked her head out to see how far down she would have to jump to the ground. A motion out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. A man dressed in black jeans and T-shirt ran across her yard from her back door, heading for the woods nearby. It had to be her attacker, although earlier she hadn't even noticed what he was wearing. Or could there be two people and the other one was waiting out in the hallway for her?

* * *

Jesse turned the corner onto the road that ran in front of Lydia's home. He spied a patrol car parked in front with the lights flashing. As he shut down his emotions, preparing himself to handle anything coming his way, he pulled up behind the cruiser and glanced toward her house.

Lydia came out onto the porch with Officer Williams, her arms crisscrossed over her chest. The look on her face twisted his heart. Something happened there, but at least she was alive.

He climbed from his white SUV and rounded the rear to release Brutus. He strode toward Lydia, and her head swiveled toward him. She bit her lip, then returned her attention to Officer Williams.

“What happened?” Jesse asked as he approached them.

“Dr. McKenzie found a man in her house. I was going to have her sit in my car while I take a look inside.”

“He's gone. He ran out the back door toward the woods.” Lydia's voice quavered, and she clamped her lips together.

Jesse headed for the left side of her house. “How long ago?”

“Four or five minutes ago,” the police officer answered.

“Stay here and guard her. Brutus and I will follow the intruder's trail. Don't leave her alone.”

Officer Williams nodded his head.

Jesse disappeared from their view, hurrying his steps. He wanted to catch this man—put an end to the past weeks' terror. Brutus picked up a scent at the back door, and Jesse gave him a long leash as they charged across the yard into the woods. His partner weaved through the trees as though the intruder wasn't sure which way to go. Good. Maybe he had a chance to catch the guy even with his lead.

In the thick brush to the left, a flash of black caught Jesse's attention. He turned Brutus loose, and his dog made a beeline toward the heavy foliage a couple of football fields to the west. The sound of a motorcycle's engine revving spurred Jesse on faster. When he broke out of the line of trees onto a path, his K-9 raced down the trail after a person in black hunkered over a motorcycle speeding around a curve.

Jesse ran twenty yards behind his Rottweiler and rounded the turn onto a paved road. Brutus and the motorcycle had disappeared from view.

* * *

So cold
. Lydia sank onto a chair on her front porch, her whole body shaking, and massaged her hands up and down her arms.

Leaning against the house, Officer Williams stood next to her, panning the yard. “Can you remember anything about the guy in your house?”

“I wish I could give you a description of the man in the hallway. I just don't remember anything other than the knife he had.”

“But you think it was a man?”

Yeah, she did—even before she glimpsed the person running away from her house. She tried to recall anything to help catch the intruder. Did he have on jeans, a black T-shirt? Although she only stared at the knife, it was against a dark background. “Yes.”

“Okay, you said the guy running from the house was medium height and build. How about his hair color?”

She'd given the officer a brief description right when he showed up, thinking he might go after the intruder, but he'd told her Detective Caldwell had insisted he stay with her. She visualized in her mind the man escaping toward the woods. “He had on a black ball cap, and dark brown hair was sticking out of the back.”

“Then dark brown hair, medium height. At least it's a start.”

One that fit a lot of men in Anchorage. Why didn't she think to study the guy? Because she was too busy trying to get away from him. “Is Detective Caldwell coming here?” she asked, glad that at least Kate had been at school.

“I don't know.”

Lydia looked toward the left, wondering where Jesse was. He knew how to protect himself, but this man—if he was the bomber—had nothing to lose by killing him. Or her.

She clasped her hands together in her lap, squeezing so tightly her knuckles whitened. She checked her watch. Jesse had been gone fifteen
long
minutes. What if the intruder hid and then attacked him? No, he'd be all right. Brutus, too. They worked well together.

Lord, I haven't asked for much, but please keep Jesse and Brutus safe
.

The prayer came to her mind unexpectedly. She hadn't prayed much in the past years. She'd given up when hers went unanswered after her daughter died.

Finally, five minutes later, Jesse came around the side of the house with Brutus but no intruder. She sank against the back of the chair and unclasped her hands. He was unhurt. But the man was still out there.

Jesse mounted the steps. His look zeroed in on her. “Are you okay?”

She started to nod, but she couldn't. She wasn't all right. A huge knot twisted her stomach. Her ribs were sore, and finally she was beginning to realize how close she had come to being hurt or killed. Again. The trembling sped through her body, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Officer Williams, why don't you walk through the house? See how the man got inside.”

Her head lowered, she heard the screen door bang closed. She sensed Jesse moving toward her, but for the life of her, she couldn't look at him. If she did, she might totally fall apart, and she couldn't. It wouldn't change anything.

Jesse squatted in front of her and laid his hands over hers.

She finally looked into his eyes. The kindness in them battered at the dam she desperately tried to shore up. They weren't even friends anymore. All she was to Jesse was a possible witness to a crime...one who couldn't even remember anything to help the police—to help herself.

He cradled her hands between his as though he cared. His gaze softened, and for a few seconds, she was swept back to when they had been dating and she'd fallen while skiing. He'd been there by her side almost instantly, holding her like this and asking her if she was okay.

She slid her eyes closed before the emotions cramming her throat turned to tears and demanded release.

“Lydia, I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Thomas is going to move you to a safe house, and you'll have a guard with you at all times. That's what he's working on right now.”

She coated her dry throat and asked, “How did you know what was going on? If the officer hadn't turned on his siren and arrived when he did...” The sounds of the intruder attacking her door echoed through her mind as though it were still happening. She flinched with each strike.

Jesse released her hands and drew her to her feet, then wrapped his arms around her. “We now believe the waitress was murdered. When I was told about the autopsy report, I headed here while Thomas dispatched a patrol car in the area.”

“If the officer had been five minutes later, the intruder would have gotten into my bedroom. My gun wasn't loaded. It should have been.” She pulled back from Jesse. “I never unloaded it. Dad had it there, and I kept it in the same place.”

“Would Kate have?”

“I'll ask her, but I don't think so. She doesn't like guns, and when Dad tried to teach her to shoot, she refused. But she never had a problem with me having it for protection. She just didn't want to be the one holding it.”

Jesse glanced around. “Let's go inside. I see a few of your neighbors are getting curious.” With his arm around her shoulder, he walked with her into the foyer. “When you feel ready, I want you to tell me and show me what you did when you came home.”

Lydia cupped her hand over her mouth. “Oh, no. Mitch is still out in my car in the garage.” She hurried toward the kitchen and almost ran into Officer Williams coming out of the room. She could vaguely hear Jesse talking to the police officer as she entered the garage.

When she opened the door, Mitch perked up and slowly climbed down. “I'm sorry it took so long.” She petted him, glad he hadn't been with her. He might have gotten hurt further trying to apprehend the intruder.

The German shepherd was learning how to compensate for his lost leg. The K-9s she treated were always very smart dogs and able to adapt to different kinds of situations they found themselves in. He followed her into the house. His tail began to wag when he spied Brutus near Jesse.

“Where's Officer Williams?”

“Checking the perimeter. We haven't figured out how the man got into the house.”

“You think he had a key?”

“I don't know. If so, how did he get it?”

Which also brought up the question why did he kill the waitress at the hospital but not her? He didn't try until now. “If he's trying to kill me, why now and not at the hospital?”

“Several reasons possibly. You had people in your room coming and going all the time. Kate. Bree. Me. Your assistant from work. The waitress didn't have any family nearby. She'd recently moved to Alaska. Usually it was just staff moving in and out of her room. If he impersonated an orderly, he could find enough time when no one else was around.”

“Do you have a photo of the man you think did it?”

“Yes, a couple, but not any good ones.” Jesse opened his cell phone and showed her the ones Thomas sent him from the surveillance cameras at the hospital. “I know that part of his face is hidden, but does this trigger anything? Was it the man you saw today?”

She stared at the pictures—one with the left side of his face while the other was a full-body shot, but in the distance and not clear. “This guy has blond hair so that's different from the intruder.”

“Hair color can be changed.”

“It's hard to tell for sure. His build seems familiar if I use the door as a reference point for height, but he's chubby around the waist. I don't think the guy in my house was.” But uncertainty nagged her. Was she trying to fill in details because she wanted to remember? Was she missing something? She thought back to the visitors and staff who were in her hospital room and...

Jesse started to take his cell phone back.

“Wait.” She clasped his wrist to still his movements. “I remember seeing a guy like this in my room. Bree had me walking in the corridor, and when we came back into the room, he was there. He said he had just finished changing my sheets and he rushed out. So many staff came and went, I really didn't think about it, even though he struck me as a little weird. You know how it is in a hospital. The parade of people through your room makes it difficult to get much rest.”

“That's why I avoid hospitals as much as possible.”

“Have you ever had to stay in one?”

“Only twice in the ER. They almost admitted me the time I was shot, but I managed to avoid it.”

“You were shot? On the job?”

“Yes. It wasn't that big of a deal. Hardly more than a flesh wound.”

There was so much she didn't know about Jesse now. And there was much he didn't know about her. They were strangers in many ways, and that thought saddened her.

After Lydia put some water down for Mitch and Brutus, Jesse said, “Tell me what happened once you came inside the house.”

She went through the steps she'd taken earlier. “Cheri was carrying on, and I was following her cries and looking for where Charlie was. Neither one came to greet me.” She paused. “Wait. Where is Charlie? Cheri had been shut up in my bedroom.” She surveyed the hallway and began checking the rooms—the third bedroom that her dad had turned into an office, the bathroom, Kate's room and then she came to hers, the master bedroom, with the door nearly destroyed. It drove home how close she'd come to being killed. “Cheri was on my pillow. When the pounding started, she went under the bed.”