SEIZED Part 1: New Adult Romantic Suspense (Seize Me Romance Fiction Series) (5 page)

“Well, I’ve been practicing Judo since I was sixteen,” she says. “I couldn’t help April, but I got away okay.” Her eyes meet mine, and there’s no ego there. None of that show phony stuff with this woman, just the relay of direct information from one human to another. When we get to the part where she was hiding under the car, I get a real sense of how different this girl is from anyone I’ve ever known. She shows me the cuts and grazes on her calves and knees, and I can’t help but notice that her toes are painted a gold color. The cuts on her feet have been wrapped by the nurse but they need to be washed. For a moment, I picture how her petite foot would look in my big hand. I’d wash it gently and rub lotion into the soles of her feet until she couldn’t keep her hands off me.

Taking a deep breath, I know I need to get my shit together and focus. Her story is coming to an end, and I have some questions, but right now all I want to do is look at those lips. White teeth peep through her lipstick stained and swollen mouth. Her skin is flawless, sheening with health. That forehead wound may not need stiches, but it’ll sure as hell be sore. Again, my respect for her jumps another notch. She finishes her account of the evening, in tears at the fate of her friend.

“Look, Detective, April doesn’t deserve this, she’s not a bad person. Everyone loves her. You have to help me find her.”

I reach over and take her hand. We’re usually advised not to make contact with any witness, but my compassion for her outweighs my regard for the rules.

“Hey, hey, it’s gonna be okay,” I say, wishing I could hold her small frame to me. “I’m gonna ask you some questions now, then we’ll make a plan, all right?”

She nods and seems to calm down a little as we begin to talk through April’s situation. The recent death of her parents was an accident and seems unconnected. Picking up on something Carrie said earlier, I ask again about her uncle’s association with Caliber. After all, if the guy had proper security at the club to make sure his niece and friend got home, none of this would have happened.

“Well, her Uncle Jessup is kind of weird.”

My heart pounds at that name, and I almost fall off my chair. Uncle Jessup and April Lee—this has to be my main suspect’s niece we’re talking about. If April Lee is the niece of the man who kidnaps and traffics more women than any other criminal in the country, then maybe someone is trying to teach Jessup Lee a lesson.

I don’t believe Carrie notices my reaction, but if she does, she doesn’t give it away. I decide to keep the connection to myself for now, and do some more investigating. I knew Jessup had a sister, but the file says nothing about any nieces or nephews. This could be a whole new avenue, and it also sheds new light on Carrie’s situation.

Excusing myself, I leave the room for a moment and scribble a note to Lieutenant Jacobs, telling her to send a car over to the scene of April’s kidnap before she does anything else. They’re all in morning briefing now, but I tell the desk officer to make sure it’s a priority.

Carrie

O
fficer Anderson comes back looking pleased, and something inside me pings as he smiles and sits down. I have a feeling I know him from somewhere but I can’t put my finger on it.

He leans in closer and starts talking about the next steps of the case. I look into his eyes as it comes to me.

“Oh my God. You lived in Cedar Rapids, didn’t you?”

He flinches, and I’m taken aback, thinking I must be wrong. Then, he nods.

“Yeah, the family moved there for a few years when I was in high school. Is that where you grew up?”

“Yes. We totally went to school together!” It’s fascinating to see what time does to change people, but I immediately regret my enthusiasm when it’s not returned. “Don’t you remember me? I was Carrie Bonner back then, but a few years ago I ditched my stepdad’s name when he and Mom broke up.”

He shakes his head, looking astounded. “No, not
Carrie
. Is that really you?”

Then he does that big open-mouthed laugh and I’m reminded of everything we once shared. He leans forward and pushes a lock of my hair away from my forehead.

“I can’t believe how different you look!”

It’s like his whole face changes, and I feel that same familiar pull in my stomach. He is glad to see me. The relief I feel annoys me a bit, but I push it away. I used to have a wicked crush on this guy, and from the way he looks now, I have to hand it to myself. My teenage self had pretty damn good taste.

Blake arrived at Cedar Rapids High in the middle of tenth grade, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He just showed up and walked into the classroom like he owned it. He was smart, too. I noticed that right off the bat. I was the teachers’ pet back then, and more than fierce about prospective competition. After I realized he wasn’t planning on using those brains for good, I started to really notice him.

Honestly, at first I thought he couldn’t help it, the amount of times he was sent out for being argumentative in history or philosophy. But then I got to know more. The guy had a desire to get noticed, and a major problem with authority. Becoming a cop was the last career I would have expected him to have. It’s crazy that he’s here.
Shit!
It’s crazier that he’s the one taking my statement about April.

Jeez, I was so obsessed with the guy. I remember looking at the back of his neck in math class, and desperately wanting to reach forward and touch it. His hair was so blond and soft, and his body looked so delicious under those stupid ripped shirts he wore. Blake was totally moody back then; sporting a sour face most of the time, then laughing and friendly on the occasional precious day. There were two different people inside him. I couldn’t get enough of the happy Blake; he had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the room. But on his bad days, I felt like he wasn’t into me at all. It was a painful time. I never had the guts to actually ask him out, all I did was think about him constantly. He never made a real move, but I know he felt me looking. We were nothing more than friends, and that killed me.

How crazy to be sitting across from him ten years later. We are eye to eye for the first time since we nearly kissed, and now Blake’s looking at me differently than he did back then. Again, I feel a warm rush that I don’t agree with. He had his chance but never took it. I called him twice before we left on vacation that year, but he didn’t call back. That was his choice, not mine. There’s a flush on his neck now, and I wonder if it’s guilt or embarrassment. The guy disappeared from my life at a time I needed someone to protect me the most. I can see by the way he holds himself that he’s trying to stay professional. I guess I can respect that. A lot went down back then, but so much water’s under the bridge. There’s nothing I can do now about all those years ago.

I wonder what he’s been doing for the last ten years.

“So, what happened?” I ask, “How come you left?”

I say it evenly, making sure there’s no inflection of hurt in my tone. I figure it was because of his family. It always is when you’re in high school. Teens have no control over anything, no decisions to make and no power.

“Yeah, my family moved, it was...”

He looks down, and I know there’s more to it, but it’s not my place to ask. I’m not exactly offering up the details of my life, either.

Cedar Rapids holds bad memories for me. Everyone I know says high school sucks, but I’m not sure if it actually did for them, the way it was for me. I always felt like a reject. I was too good at schoolwork, and too focused on sports. I had my mind made up so early about journalism, and I’m sure I ran the school paper with an iron fist. I wince a bit, thinking of the cool kids and their sneers. I don’t think of that as a happy time, but I do wonder what would have happened if things had turned out differently that summer after the state try-outs.

By all accounts, Cedar Rapids was a good town to grow up in. I’ve got to remember that when I’m all down and out about my childhood. And if I didn’t live there, I would never have gotten to know April. So, that’s one redeeming feature about the place. Back then, we were super close. She went to another high school, but we used to hang out most weeknights and every weekend.

I would constantly gossip away to her about my Blake obsession. Talking through scenarios that didn’t happen and making plans I never carried out. I’m sure I drove her crazy, but the power of his hold on me went beyond logic. He wasn’t the sporty type I usually went for. He wasn’t even nice to me most of the time. There was just something about him.

It’s so surreal to see him looking back at me right now. I know I must look like a hot, crazy mess, but that shouldn’t even matter. I need to keep reminding myself what’s important.

“So, what did you do with yourself?”

I don’t mean to sound nosy, but the Blake who sits in front of me is different than the sixteen-year-old I knew back then.

“Apart from becoming a cop, you mean?”

He raises that same eyebrow sardonically and I see his sense of humor is still intact. Physically, though, everything is different about him. The way he stands, the way he walks. His hair is short, and he must be three times bigger than he used to be. He’s honestly turned into a full-blown hottie.

I couldn’t help myself from looking at his butt when he got up earlier. It’s rock solid under that trim little waist. Not to mention those thick forearms I saw when he rolled up his sleeves. No tattoos that I can see now, but time has done him well. He’s all man now, yummy gold hairs glinting off that same brown skin I used to fret over. God, even his stubble-covered jaw has grown and is in stunning proportion to his gorgeous face and neck.

There were times when I used to stare at him like a helpless knob. I would shrink and end up nearly hiding in my locker as he walked down the hall. I’m sure I’m flushing now just remembering it. He must have thought I was a complete weirdo. All googley-eyed, and so obviously in love with him. I know I wasn’t the only one, either. At one point, every girl in that town was watching him right along with me. That was before everything happened. I’m nowhere near the little fool I was then. I’ll bet he has no idea who he’s sitting across from. The old Carrie and everything she was back then has completely stopped existing.

I pull my head back into the present. He’s looking at me, asking something about April’s family, and I wonder why he cares. It’s hardly as if the accident has anything to do with last night. Their deaths were completely random. One minute, April’s mom and dad were heading out to get some chocolate chip ice cream, and the next they were wrapped around a pole. There was no one else even remotely nearby. That’s why they didn’t make it. Both died from their injuries, both strapped into the seatbelts that didn’t protect them from the chest trauma that occurred when the front of the car buckled in.

April didn’t see the gory details, but I did. A crew from KCRG was sent out to film it. I’m grateful she never had to see it on the news. The station manager graded it inappropriate for viewings. God, it was sad. They were even holding hands when they died. I wanted to tell April that, but then I’d have to explain about the tapes, and I knew she’d force me to get them for her.

“There’s no link,” I say, and my statement seems to surprise him. “I mean, there’s nothing connecting their death to last night, nothing I can see anyway.”

Maybe it’s my vehemence that makes him ask, “So, what do you think then?”

He picks up his pen and waits for my answer.

“Well, she had no enemies, so I can’t imagine this was planned, but the thing is, those guys were deadly serious, so that makes me think it’s not a random rape case, either.”

My serious tone seems to make him sit up and pay a little more attention. “Ahh, that’s right,” he says. “You’re press. Of course you’ve got an opinion.”

His eyebrow goes up again, but I’m not offended. I take it as a challenge. Men and their stupid assumptions about female journalists. I get it every damn day, even with my boss, and I’m sick of it. The challenging stare I unleash on him, filled with venom and daring, obviously touches a nerve, because he shuts right up and gives me the space to continue.

I talk and talk, going through everything that has been flooding my mind since I first got here. There are so many possibilities, and I ask if there have been similar abductions in the last month. Blake ends up telling me more than I should probably know as a witness, and I quietly feel a glow that he’s giving me what I want. Maybe I’m more persuasive than I think I am. One thing’s for certain, there’s no way I’m giving up.

It must be eight in the morning by now, and my head has almost stopped throbbing. All I can feel is a fire to do something about April. I’ve got no patience for this stuff. I wonder if he’s been working all night. I can definitely see that he’s tired, but that’s how all cops are. Their caseloads are massive, so once the leads go cold, it’s way too easy for them to stop looking. If I don’t drive this investigation, or at least make some noise, then he’s going to forget about the girl from Iowa.

I know that’s what happens. I’ve spoken to the families of too many victims of violent crime to think otherwise. Even if Officer Anderson and I do have a past connection, it’s time for me to stop complaining about my injuries and start thinking like an investigative reporter. April was there for me all those years ago, and now I need to return the favor.

I realize how hungry I am, and when I say so I see his concern immediately flare in his eyes. He jumps straight up and heads out to the vending machine. I don’t know what he’s getting me, and I don’t care. His eyes really take me back. They’re deep blue, flecked with little grey spots.

All of a sudden, I remember when he used to come and watch my track meets. He’d stand in the bleachers and silently root for me. I’d be shocked every time he showed up. Blake looked totally out of place there amongst the jocks and cheerleaders. I liked it, though. I liked knowing he was there, and I was grateful whenever he came to watch.

The day I qualified for state was the best day in memory. Every lap of the fifteen-hundred meters, I’d loop around the track and see him standing in the same place; his steady eyes watching me, urging me on. He knew how much I wanted to win and how embarrassed I was to have people see me fail. I hadn’t even told April I was trying out, but for some reason I had found myself telling Blake about the qualifiers. He didn’t wave and cheer or make noise like the other supporters, that wouldn’t have been his MO. But I remember that he stayed for every heat during this track meet, his presence comforting me in the pressured atmosphere.