Silent Scream (22 page)

“I never said thanks.”  She shifted the box from one arm to the other.

“Sure you did.”

“Not to him.”  She pointed at Donner.  “I didn’t, and without him, I’d just be a statistic.  We both know that.”  Her gaze carefully avoided his as she spoke, kneeling and patting Donner on the head.  “He’s a beautiful dog.”

“Yeah, he is,” he replied distractedly as he watched Maddie stroke Donner, her small, thin fingers brushing through his coat.  “What have you been doing with yourself these days?”  He watched the dog nudge closer to Maddie, and before he could stop it, Donner had playfully jumped up on her and knocked her to the ground.

“Donner!” he snapped, “What’s gotten into you?”  He saw the surprise on her face, and again his mind flashed back to that night as her body lay sprawled on the ground. 
She’s alive
, he reminded himself, grimacing as he stretched his arm out and offered his hand.  “Geez, I’m sorry about that.  Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said as laughter bubbled up and overtook her.  “It’s all right, really.  I like dogs.  Had I not gone to medical school, I would have been a vet.” Grabbing Gabriel’s hand, she let him pull her upright, and as she stood, he noticed lots of dead grass stuck to her sweater and jeans.”

“You’ve got grass on your backside.”   He thought about brushing it off, but it seemed inappropriate to touch her without her acknowledgement.  The last thing he wanted was to remind her of the time a man had touched her without her permission or desire, a touch that had very nearly killed her.

“Would you mind getting it off?” she asked, swatting the seat of her jeans.

“Sure.”  He brushed her sweater off and managed to remove most of the clippings.  A few stragglers remained.  “Hold still.”  He plucked away the rest.  “There, good as new.” 

Donner started to jump on her again, but Gabriel quickly stepped between the two and pointed an accusing finger at the dog.  “Down, Donner!  I said sit!”

Donner whimpered twice, barked once, and sat on his haunches, eyeing Maddie imploringly.

“I don’t know what his problem is.”  Gabriel set his hands on his hips and shook his head while staring at Donner.  “He never acts like this.”

“I know why he’s doing that.”

Gabriel turned to find Maddie smiling at him.  “Okay, I give.  What’s the secret?”  As he stared at her, he now saw the beauty which had been hidden beneath the injuries, the pain and the fear.  The morning light accentuated the auburn streaks in her hair.  The pallor had fled from her cheeks, and her olive complexion now appeared much healthier.  Although the cut on the side of her face had left a scar, between the hair delicately framing her face and her complexion, Gabriel barely saw it and knew that anyone who was unaware of it would miss it altogether.  He looked into the blue of her eyes–a wild shade of lightness that reminded him of a Colorado sky.

Maddie must have realized he was staring as she blushed and peered at the box still in her hands, the same box she shook from side to side to hear the rumble of the contents.  “He’s trying to get these.”

As Maddie held out the box to Gabriel, Donner stood and jumped for it, barely missing as Gabriel lifted the box out of the dog’s reach.  “Milk Bone dog biscuits, I take it?”

“Yep.”  Maddie laughed as Donner continued his frenzied hopping, trying to bite the box.  “Persistent, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea.”  Gabriel glared at the dog and pointed at him.  “Sit, Donner!”  The dog barked twice and finally obeyed.  Gabriel pulled the wrapping paper from the top of the box and then pulled the tab loose.  As he grabbed two biscuits, Donner began to wag his tail furiously and whimpered again.  Gabriel tossed the treats toward the dog.   Donner snapped one up in midair and gobbled the other from where it had landed beside Gabriel’s shoe.

“Well, you did mention he liked them,” Maddie said, laughing.

Gabriel also started laughing.  His gaze lingered on her face.  Swallowing hard, she patted her hair, wondering if one lock had decided to stand on end.  “Have I sprouted horns or something?”

He quickly glanced at the ground and then at the dog. “Horns?  What do you mean?”

“You were staring.”

Gabriel shrugged and dug the toe of his shoe into the dead grass, trying to think of something to say.

“You
were
staring at me.”

Gabriel shoved his hands into his jeans pocket.  “Yeah...I was.”  A flush crept into his cheeks, and he purposely avoided her gaze.  Once or twice he opened his mouth to speak but then shut it before the words would come out, the same words he’d been hiding since he’d been watching over her months ago.  “I was just thinking that you look so much better these days.”

The smile dimmed slightly, and she nodded.  “Yes, well, at least I’ve healed.”

He saw her face and the saw the way the sunlight danced in her hair, illuminating reddish-gold streaks amid the soft curls framing her face. 
Beautiful—God, she was beautiful.
  He reached down and slowly took her arm, the one which had been broken.  Half-expecting her to flinch, he moved slowly, touching her wrist with gentle fingers.  “I’m glad you’ve healed.”  Even after he’d seen for himself just how well she had healed, his fingers lingered, memorizing the feel of her pulse.  Could he admit he’d thought of her over the last two months?  He’d wanted to call her just to hear her voice.  He’d dreamed about her many times, often having nightmares that someone else had come after her. 

“Me, too.”  She frowned.

He felt his heart slamming in his chest, and he purposely tried to keep his breathing slow and easy.  “Maddie, I....”  His voice died as he pulled his hand away.

“What were you about to say?”  She touched her wrist where his fingers had been.  His stomach clenched.  Had his touch reminded her too much of the past?  God, how could he ever not remind her of that? He swallowed slowly.  “That I’m glad you came,” he said in a voice seasoned with emotions he tried to keep at bay.  He turned back toward the station, trying not to think.

“I also came with a dinner invitation.”  She folded her arms across her chest.  “You gave me back my life, and I wanted to say thank you again.”

His shoulders stiffened, and he clenched his teeth
.  Damn, I don’t want her to be grateful.  I don’t want to remind her of that night for the rest of her life.  I want to remind her of what can come after that if she would let it, but I don’t think she can.
 “You don’t have anything to be grateful for, Maddie.  I was only doing the right thing.”

“Okay.”  She tugged her fingers through her hair.  “The offer still stands, and if you ever get hungry enough, look me up.”  She drew her keys from her jeans pocket and slowly walked to her car without looking back.

Gabriel watched her go, and Donner barked twice in her passing.  “Damn.”  He turned to Donner as her car pulled away.  “Couldn’t you have introduced the two of us in any other way?”

Chapter Twenty

"How's your doctor friend these days?" Ramsey asked.

Gabriel frowned and dumped the steaming spaghetti into a large bowl, trying not to think of how raw seeing her two weeks ago had left him.  "To tell the truth, I dunno.  I talked to the crisis counselor who helped her, and she seems to think Maddie’s doing better."  Of course, at present, Tammy wasn’t doing so hot, with impacted wisdom teeth she was supposed to be getting out today.  And of course the subject always went back to Sam when he talked to Tammy.

As he felt the heat through the potholder, he half-dropped the empty pan on the stove and tossed the potholder next to the bowl.  "Damn, that was hot!"

"No shit, Sherlock!  What a fine detective you would make."  Ramsey peered at him, scrutinizing his features, searching for something.  "I could be out of line, but it seemed like you were pretty focused on her."  He turned his attention to mixing quartered tomatoes in with the lettuce and grated cheese before he plucked the ranch dressing from the refrigerator door.

"Yeah, you're out of line, all right.  Hell, maybe you just took a dive off the deep end."  He watched the steam rise from the noodles, and hoped the heat coming off them would conceal his suddenly flushed cheeks--a flush that didn't have anything to do with food.

Ramsey laughed and dumped the sauce, complete with golf-ball sized meatballs, into a large glass bowl.  "Yeah, well, notice I didn't ask that.  What I did ask you was how your doctor friend was doing."  He set the bowl on the table.

"Thanks for the replay."  Gabriel carried the noodles to the table as well.  As he walked past the oven, he could smell the rolls rising inside, the pale dough burnishing to a deeper tan as the  butter-coated skin cooked.

"Care to divulge any more information—you  know, maybe something useful?  Inquiring minds want to know."

"I haven't seen her in a couple of weeks, so I wouldn't know how she’s doing.  I'm guessing she's fine."  He gritted his teeth, trying not to remember how often he dreamed of her.  Sometimes it came as a nightmare--the guy grabbing her and killing her before Gabriel could pull the trigger.  Sometimes he dreamed he visited her in the hospital where she worked, only this Maddie wore pink scrubs and an eighties Madonna hairstyle, tresses teased to the max, looking so far removed from Maddie's classy style; he still didn't know what that dream was about.  Sometimes, rarer still, he'd even dreamed his sister was best friends with Maddie, and that he’d first seen Maddie in high school, when Jessie had brought her over to spend the night.  That dream wasn't so farfetched, considering he knew Jessie would have enjoyed Maddie's personality, but the two had never met.  And they never would.

Ramsey set plates around the table.  "And you're just going to let it drop?"  He shook his head, and as he moved to set down a plate, it struck a nearby glass, making it ring.   "Just like that?"

Gabriel glared at him.  "As opposed to forcing her to pay attention to things she doesn't need to worry about right now?  And she's probably not even sure she wants anything to do with any man, let alone one paying that much attention to her."  Gabriel plunked a fork and butter knife beside each plate.  "Besides, you act like I'm crazy about her, and it's not like I did anything so unusual for her.  You're making a lot out of a little."

"Am I?"  He set his hand over his chest, feigning indignation.  "Yeah, well, maybe everybody would have saved her.  Maybe everybody would have stopped by the hospital, but, Gabriel, you didn't just stop there.  You stayed the night over at her house to make sure the rapist didn't return."  He shook his head and put the salt and pepper shakers on the table.   "That's not an everyday thing, and you know it."  He pointed a knowing finger at his friend.  "Don't even bother denying it."

Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but the jarring ring of the alarm jolted him. 

"Man!"  Ramsey peered at the set table just begging the two of them to sit down and feast.  "So much for dinner."  His gaze lingered upon the pasta and sauce.  "Can't the damned thing ever go off after the meal, before bedtime, or after we get up?  Just once?"

"In your dreams," Gabriel retorted, thumping his buddy on the back.  "Time to suit up."  He strode from the kitchen, relieved to have avoided that line of questions; he damned sure didn't have any answers he wanted to fess up to, or even answers he'd really thought about.

* * *

In the Eastside Apartment Complex, the heat had filled the one-bedroom units quickly.  Most of the residents had already awoken and fled as flames reached the third floor, where Tammy Ballard lay in bed, unconscious from a Lortab-induce stupor intended to ease the ache of newly removed teeth.  Still, in her dreams, she heard panicked screams, and she thought she was strolling the deck of the Titanic as everyone around her rushed past. 
I should be running,
she thought, but she looked down at the black pumps she wore, heels skinny and tall, and knew she couldn't run unless she took them off.

So take them off
, she thought as the screams grew louder.  A thumping noise, like someone knocking.  She looked around the deck.  No one was there.

"Fire!" someone screamed, and Tammy opened her eyes, inviting the throbbing pain in her head and mouth to fester.  Her hand flew to it and tried to rub it away before the pain behind her eyes blossomed into something unthinkable. 
Fire?
 She thought. 
Where?
  The words echoed in her mind, but the echo sounded slow and distorted.  Her head felt like her mouth when she had just come from the dentist earlier, all doped up and stuffed with gauze.  She tried to jerk upright, but there seemed to be some kind of break in the synapses—or at least a delay as her body was so slow to obey her mind’s commands.  It felt so sluggish—so heavy and hard to control.

“Fire!” another voice yelled as someone pounded on the door.

Hot.  It’s so hot.
  She wiped her hand across her forehead.  Sweat slicked her skin, soaking her hand and dripping onto the floral burgundy comforter molded to her body.  She looked down at her shirt and found the front of it soaked and stuck to her chest.

I need to get out of here
, she thought as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.  As if in response to her movement, she felt her stomach muscles spasm.  Her hand drifted to her abdomen, touching the taut muscles.  She knew she was going to be sick.  She was barely able to lean over the bed before the nausea punched her stomach.  Vomit spewed on the carpet. 

Black spots marred her vision, growing larger until they blotted out everything.  She struggled away from the bed, trying to reach the living room, but she couldn’t remember the way.  Then she slipped toward blackness.

* * *

Why does this place sound familiar?
Gabriel thought as the fire truck stopped in front of a burning, three-story apartment complex.  Two other trucks had already arrived, and the men from those units scrambled to hook up hoses and such.  Numerous cops also milled about the scene, some talking to firefighters and others keeping  bystanders at a distance.  A small grouping suggested where the incident command center was.  Many people watching were shouting in anger or fear.