Somewhere in His Arms (39 page)

Chapter Twenty-four

The rest of the night was a loud and blinding blur of police cars and ambulances converging on the scene. Lucy sat in shock as the paramedics placed her arm in a sling for transport to the hospital and gave her a shot for the pain. Her eye was completely swollen shut by now and she could hardly breathe through her nose. But most of that was nothing compared to Alec who sat beside her in stoic silence, having his arm bandaged, and answering a plethora of inquires about the dead man in their driveway.

             
The sheriff's deputies were a little uncouth in their questioning until Alec finally lost his temper and practically screamed at one of them to fetch something from the truck's glove compartment.

             
One little man, who projected an air of authority befitting a Bantam rooster, did as he was asked, and had paled considerably by the time he jogged back. He handed the something to Alec who fished out a laminated card from the black folding wallet. “My warrant card,” he informed them brusquely and flashed them the badge on the other side.

             
“Alec?” Lucy was just as curious. “What's going on?”

             
“These good men think I just killed somebody in cold blood,” he said, wincing at the words on his swollen tongue. “I'm just showing them I had every right to protect you, love.” The sheriff's deputy tipped his hat with a mumbled apology and scurried off to where the other officers were photographing Reese's body. He handed Lucy the wallet.

             
She held it in her lap for a moment before examining the contents. Then she burst out laughing, wincing as she did so.
“ Detective Inspector
Barrington?' she chuckled in disbelief.

             
Her husband frowned and reached up to tuck a tangled lock of hair behind her ear. “And what's so funny about that, wife? It's a very respectable occupation, you know!”

             
“I know,” she said, kissing his bruised cheek. “ But why the secrecy? Here I was thinking you were some sort of convict or something!”

             
“Oh, I don't know,” he sighed, taking her hand and kissing it tenderly. “I just never got around to it.”

             
Her laughter died in her throat, and the recent events of the night came upon her in all its hideous glory. A broken sob emerged as a wet croak and she began to weep, mostly in relief. Alec drew her close and comforted her the best he could. “I told you he'd have to go through me. Didn't I, love?”

             
Lucy nodded and reached up to caress his bandaged arm. “You're going to need stitches,” she whispered hoarsely.

             
“Hush,” he soothed and helped her up into the ambulance.

             
She watched as the sheriff came back to grill Alec one last time, before nodding and shaking his hand. Then the paramedics shooed her husband in with her and they were off to the hospital.

              Alec filled out insurance paperwork with his good hand as he waited for them to set Lucy's arm. She'd taken the brunt of Reese's fury and once they'd stitched him up, Alec had called Rudy and told him if he ever wanted to see daylight again, he'd better haul his sorry arse up here.

             
It was nearly four in the morning and he was completely knackered. He'd had to contend with the police once more when he got to hospital, and he never wanted to hear the name of Reese ever again. He'd done what he had to; he shouldn't be condemned for it. Local police were the worst. They damned you if you did and damned you if you didn't. You couldn't win.

             
He handed off the clipboard to the nurse and waited for Rudy. Alec wanted to have a good long talk with him. Maybe strangle him while he was it. Reese hadn't found them by accident. Someone had to have snitched. And he had a sneaking suspicion it was someone
very
familiar.

             
“How long is it going to be?” he asked the gray-haired charge nurse.

             
She smiled up at the handsome young man who looked like he'd been through ten rounds with a bull. “It might take a while. They took her downstairs for X-rays.” She smiled kindly. “You could go to the cafeteria for some coffee, you look like you could use some.”

             
“No, I'll wait.” He dropped back into this chair and tried not to nod off. But that's just what he did and found himself being nudged awake by a beautiful angel. “Hey, love,” he smiled sleepily and stretched his long frame.

             
“Why didn't you go to the cafeteria?” she sat down beside him and adjusted her sling.

             
“I didn't want you to come out thinking I'd abandoned you.”

             
“I'd never think that.” She yawned and put her head on his shoulder. ”How were the stitches?”

             
He kissed the top of her head. “Horrible! I'll have nightmares for the rest of my life!”

             
“How many?”

             
“Forty!”

             
“Ouch!” she winced and kissed his scruffy cheek. “You need a shave.”

             
“I
need
a drink!”

             
“You and
me
both!” Lucy sighed tiredly. “Where are we going to sleep? I don't think we can go back there.”

             
“How's the Ritz-Carlton sound?”

             
“Can we afford that?”

             
Alec chuckled and winced at his swollen tongue. “I think we can.” He grinned at her. “Unless you'd like to go back to me stepdad’s.”

             
She feigned a look of horror. “The Ritz will be fine.” Lucy then thought of something. “How did he find us?”

             
“I don't know, love.”

             
“And Rudy?”

             
Alec got to his feet and helped his wife up. “I'll send him a homing pigeon.” He walked her out to a waiting taxi. “Let's get to bed, wife,” he said, sliding in beside her. He gave the driver the address for the hotel. “We're going to get wrecked and sleep for a week!”

             
“Sounds good,” she sighed, resting her head on her husband's shoulder, and nodded off.

             
Rudy arrived the next morning, having hightailed it to San Francisco in a former client's private jet. He'd headed straight for the cottage first thing and nearly had a stroke at the carnage that awaited him. The cottage was in shambles, especially the kitchen where Reese had attacked Lucy. The driveway had splashes of blood where Alec had bled and there was a chalk outline denoting the position of Reese's corpse. A sheriff's deputy had driven him to the morgue where he was supposed to identify the body.

             
Somehow in that dingy room that reeked of formaldehyde, Rudy had been certain Reese wasn't dead, that the stiffening corpse was some sort of impostor. For the remains of the most prolific child killer Rudy had ever known lay peacefully in his refrigerated drawer. Surely this was not the same horrifying monster that had murdered nearly a hundred children over a twenty-year span; had crossed thirty-three states to get to them; thumbed his nose at every authority known to man; and had nearly ruined Rudy's career.

             
No, it couldn't be Milford Reese. But on closer inspection once the sheet was lifted off his swollen face, Rudy breathed a sigh of relief. Reese was dead and Alec had made certain it was a painful trip. Alec had nearly beaten the son of a bitch to death. His face and head bulged awkwardly in all directions, his eyes sank into his skull, and there was a bright red ligature mark around his neck. But Alec hadn't merely strangled him. He'd damn near snapped his head off. He'd made him pay for what he'd done to Lucy, and Rudy felt no grief at his passing. Good riddance to bad rubbish. If only he'd had Alec twenty-years ago. All those children might have been saved, and Rudy's sanity along with it.

             
The sheet was lowered again and the body slipped back into its crypt. Rudy filled out the necessary paperwork and informed the coroner that there would be no grieving relatives to claim the body. Reese had started his murderous career at a young age, having stabbed his mother to death at the age of eight and shooting his father in the back when he was fifteen. Any remaining relatives had given up claim on Reese long ago. Rudy decided to do the decent thing and claimed the body himself. He'd arrange for a cremation and scatter the ashes to the four winds.

             
With that done, he flew back to San Francisco and took a cab to the hotel where Alec and Lucy were staying. By all accounts, the marriage seemed to be going well. He was happy for them. It had turned out as well could be. He approached their door and knocked.

             
He was about to knock again when the door flung open. Alec stood much the worse for wear with various scrapes and bruises. He had his arm bandaged up and his lip was bloodied and swollen. Alec looked none too pleased to see him. Not pleased at all. “Well, you took your sweet time,” he muttered and pulled him in.

             
Rudy stood for a moment in shock before gathering his wits. “How's Lucy?”

             
“My
wife,”
Alec growled, emphasizing the word, “had to be sedated at six in the morning thinking that bastard was still trying to get her. How do you think
she
is?”

             
“God, Alec,” Rudy said, loosening his tie. “I don't know what to say.”

             
“You could tell me how the little fucker found us. Start with that!”

             
“You think
I
know?”

             
“He said you were an alcoholic,” Alec challenged him. “How would he know that?”

             
“I don't know!” Rudy cried, flustered at being interrogated like a criminal, and not even trying to deny the accusation either. “All right? I don't know!” Rudy thrust his hands into his pockets and stalked over to the large windows. He peered at the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. “I didn't tell him anything if that's what you're implying.”

             
“”How'd he know then?”

             
Rudy turned and raked his hand through his salt and pepper hair. “I don't know. We go way back. We knew each other long before you were even born. Just leave it at that.”

             
“He had to have gotten the information somehow,” Alec said, going to the bar and pouring himself a drink. He knocked two bourbons back and made Rudy a screwdriver. “Maybe there's a snitch in the police department.”

             
“Maybe,” Rudy grunted and gulped down the drink. “There were only three people who knew where you were. You,” he pointed with his glass, “me, and Detective Brandon.”

             
“Why would anyone tell that little wanker anything?”

             
Rudy drained the last of his drink and flopped down onto a sofa. He rubbed the flesh between his eyes and sighed wearily. “You spend years in this business and you're apt to piss someone off, I guess.”

             
Alec sat down beside him and poured some more vodka. “Think someone has a grudge?”

             
“Who knows?” Rudy set his empty glass on the antique coffee table. “I guess that's enough.”

             
Alec felt sorry for the man who was looking like he'd just seen the devil himself. “See the body?”

             
“Yep.”

             
“I'm not sorry.”

             
“You shouldn't be. He had it coming.”

             
“He was going to rape Lucy.”

             
“He
was?”

             
“To get back at you.”

             
“Don't!” Rudy groaned and held up his hands. “I know what he was capable of.”

             
“I know,” Alec sighed, and felt the start of a murderous headache. “Have you had breakfast?”

             
“Nah, I don't think I can eat anything.”

             
Alec stood up and peered toward the bedroom where Lucy slept. “She's got a broken arm, black eye, split lip. She'll be asleep for a while. Let's go and get something to eat and you can fill me in.”