Tactical Advantage (17 page)

Unless she couldn’t answer.

“Ah, hell.” Nick pushed through the next sheet of plastic and lengthened his stride to take the stairs two at a time. The second and third floors passed by in a blur. The fourth floor was still a hive of activity. Raj Kapoor was there. But no petite brunette.

Ignoring them all, Nick raced up the last flight and broke through the yellow crime scene tape at the top. “Annie!”

The emptiness registered first. Then hot-pink paisley drew his eyes to the window across the open room. There was her purse, her camera, her kit. But where was Annie?

And then he heard the pounding, metallic at first. He heard a thump against wood and swung his gaze around to the sound. “Annie!”

“Nick? Nick!” Her voice sounded muffled, distant but strong.

“Where are you?”

“I’m in here. In the old elevator.”

He dashed to the broken-down walls at the end of the room. “Annie!” He tugged on the doorknob, but the whole thing—knobs, bolts, plate—came off in his hand. He swore and tossed the mechanism aside. He ran his hands around the frame, trying to find a spot to wedge his fingers inside. “Are you hurt?”

“The door’s jammed. I can’t reach it.”

“Are you hurt?” he repeated. Then his eyes landed on the discarded knob assembly. “Hold on.”

“Nick?”

“I’m coming, baby.” He tore apart the rusted pieces. “Tell me if you’re hurt.”

“Just some bruises. The elevator is parked between floors and I’m on the roof. But it’s gross down here. Mold, I think. I think something was living down here. And it’s dark and...”

A fist squeezed around Nick’s heart at the despair he heard in her voice. He picked up the long steel lynchpin and prayed years of neglect wouldn’t let it bend or snap in two.

“And what?” he asked as he jammed the makeshift mini-crowbar between the door and frame and shoved as hard as he could. The wood around the lock plate splintered. With a twist and a jerk, he popped the door open and whipped it out of his way. “Annie?”

The meager light shone down on a grimy, squinting beauty, holding the remnants of a shredded CSI vest and clutching a broken chunk of wood. “If I was taller, I could have climbed out. I tried.”

“I know you did, slugger.” Lying down on his stomach, Nick reached past the vest she’d hooked on a bolt to try to pull herself up. “Give me your hand.”

Mindful to check his relief until he knew she was all right, Nick waited for her to wipe off her hands and then stretch up on tiptoe. “I could have died because I’m so short. If you hadn’t come looking for me...”

“You didn’t answer your phone, so I came lookin’. You’re not dying today. Not on my watch. Come on.” Nick clasped his hand tightly around her wrist and pulled her up.

He grabbed a fistful of her coat and lifted her over the edge. Her chest fell across his and he rolled over with her, pulling her away from the opening. He cupped her dirt-streaked face, smoothed her hair away from the soiled bandage and checked the golden clarity in her beautiful eyes.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, batting his hands away and trying to sit up.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Now be still. You fell down a damn elevator shaft. What bruises? Where does it hurt?” He ran his hands along her arms and legs. Plenty of dirt, plenty of slime, but no broken bones, only a couple of ouches and quick catches of breath. “We need to get that bandage changed. Keep the wound clean.”

“Let me up. I heard my phone ringing. I felt like an idiot for not having it on me so I could call for help.”

“I said I’d be here.”

“No.” She planted her hands at the middle of his chest and shoved him back. “That’s not all I heard. Now let me up.”

“Fine.” He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and carry her away from all this, and she didn’t even want him touching her. He got up on his knees and swung the door shut before there were any more accidents. “Let’s get out of here.”

Annie was on her feet as soon as he was. “Wait. Don’t move. Tell me exactly what you touched out here.”

Nick picked up the pieces of the doorknob he’d used, waved them in front of her face and tossed them aside. “Thanks, Nick. I appreciate the rescue.”

For a split second, her eyes locked on to his. And then she cupped his face between her hands and pulled herself up on tiptoe to press a kiss against his lips. And then another harder one. By the time the third kiss came, Nick had moved past shock and hurt, and was kissing her back. Fast. Sweet. Done.

She sank back onto her heels without releasing him. Her eyes had warmed to that deep, soulful amber. “Thank you. I know you think I like to be alone all the time. But not really. And not like that.” With a wry smile, she wiped a smudge off his jaw and pulled away. “The others left?”

“Yeah. Elliott and his assistant had a meeting. Matuszak skipped out somewhere. I don’t think I made a very good impression on him. Raj is still on the fourth floor.” The woman was complicated, but worth the patience it took to figure out when her brain and her emotions weren’t always in sync. She was safe. They’d gotten to kisses three, four and five. He could slip back into detective mode, too. “Okay, I’m not understanding. How did you get stuck in there?”

“I didn’t. Someone pushed me in.” She walked a circle clear around him, scanning high, low, everywhere around the room. Nick’s hands clenched into fists, damning the man who’d hurt her, damning himself for not sensing something was wrong sooner. “I could hear him out here. Messing with my crime scene.”

He turned the same circle with her.
Check the emotional response,
he warned himself. Annie needed answers. He intended to give her whatever she needed. “I came up the stairs and made a beeline for the old elevator when I heard you. Used what I needed from the door. Didn’t touch anything else.”

She checked his work boots, then looked for a path that wasn’t there. “That thorough son of a gun.”

Even Nick could see what was missing. “He swept up. There’s no dust between here and the stairs.”

When she took off for the trash heap by the window, Nick figured it was safe to move and followed. She stopped beside the space heater and touched her fingers to the sooty carbon she’d left when she’d dusted for prints. “He didn’t touch this.” She moved on to the mattress and the window. “He didn’t touch anything.”

“Except you,” Nick pointed out.

“Wait.” She darted over to the wood spool where her purse sat beside her kit and camera. She opened her kit and pulled on a pair of sterile gloves. “He moved my camera.”

“Why?” Nick crossed up beside her.

She inspected the camera from all angles before picking it up. “Hand me the magnifying glass out of my kit.” Nick leaned in beside her and found the magnifier strapped to the lid with other tools. “I should dust it for prints. Although I expect he was wearing gloves.” She held out her hand again. “Tweezers.”

“Annie?” She pulled out the memory card, then pushed the camera into Nick’s hands while she pulled out a small evidence envelope and dropped the computer chip inside. “What is it?”

“He switched the memory card in my camera.”

“Who did?”

She pulled out a pen to mark the envelope. “I’m guessing a big man in a black parka? I didn’t see him.”

“The Cleaner?”

“Think about it, Nick. Nothing was taken in the break-in. The only thing damaged was that window. And if a homeless guy really did come in to spend the night, where’s the evidence of that? Where did he go?” She repacked everything into her kit and peeled off the sterile gloves. “This crime scene isn’t about the break-in or damaging Brian Elliott’s renovation project.”

“It’s about you.”

“It was a setup to get my camera. The photos from Rachel Dunbar’s murder were still on it.”

“It was a setup to leave you for dead.”

She visibly shivered at the notion of what someone was willing to do to hide any evidence relating to the Rose Red Rapist. Nick set the camera on top of her kit and pulled her into his arms. His fingers found their way into the soft curls at her nape as she hugged her arms around his waist. “How did The Cleaner know I’d be assigned to this crime scene?”

“The location. It fits the witness testimony about being abducted and taken to a construction site where the actual rape occurred. It’s in the right neighborhood where all the attacks have happened. He knew the task force would flag it.”

“But we never made that detail about the attacks public.” The shivering stopped. “If The Cleaner knows those details...”

“...then he knows who our rapist is. He’s not a fan.”

“He’s working with him.”

Reluctantly, Nick released her to pull out his phone to call Spencer. “We need to tell the others. We need to dig a little deeper and find out who reported the break-in.”

Annie slung her purse over her shoulder and gathered her things. “You need to take me to the lab to process this memory card.”

Nick wrinkled up his nose and brushed a patch of moldy grit off her face. “I think I’d better take you home first.”

Chapter Eleven

Annie unplugged the hair dryer and wound the cord around the handle in evenly spaced loops before putting it away in the bathroom drawer. She looked into the mirror over the sink to replace the gauze bandage on her forehead and run her fingers through her dampish curls, wondering how much longer she could hide out in the bathroom before Nick sent in a search party.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have a legitimate excuse for staying here, away from the laughter and home-cooked smells coming from her kitchen and living room. She’d literally soaped up twice to get rid of the dirt and what she suspected might be mouse droppings that had clung to her skin and clothes after her tumble down the old elevator shaft. She was truly grateful that the women in Nick’s family cared enough to bring over soup and fresh bread and a hand-knit gift. Connie, Trudy, Natalie, Nadine and Nell were friendly and generous, and certainly loved to talk. But Annie wasn’t quite sure how she fit in with her apartment full of guests.

Was she Nick’s friend? Their friend? A lonesome charity case they’d adopted for the holidays? And just how was she supposed to get a word in edgewise when there seemed to be a dozen conversations going on at any one time? What exactly was she supposed to contribute to the well-oiled Fensom machine that would show her gratitude and not make them regret their kindness to her in the first place?

Nick had said it was just what families did for each other.

But she wasn’t family. She hadn’t been part of a family—part of anything—for a long time.

And while she’d very much like to be a part of something like that again, right now she was just the odd duck their precious Nicky worked with.

Her reflection seemed to chide her shyness when it came to interacting with so many people all at once. She needed to suck it up and get dressed and get out there with her guests to eat some soup and thank them kindly and get over to the crime lab with the evidence she’d locked up in the back of Nick’s Jeep.

She could figure out all the other answers later, after her job tonight was done.

Pulling her robe off the door hook, Annie slipped it on over her underwear and hurried down the hallway to her bedroom.

But she found a visitor there, as well. Nell Fensom sat cross-legged in the middle of Annie’s bed, cradling a mysteriously attentive G.B. in her lap.

“I hope this is okay. I promise I didn’t mess with anything.” Nell stroked a line between G.B.’s dark ears, eliciting a purr that filled the room. “He seems to like it back here where it’s quiet. But if you want me to leave, I’ll go.”

Annie looked from her Siamese cat’s drowsy eyes to the petulant expression on the teenager’s face, and closed the door. She’d had college roommates see her get dressed before. “You can stay.” She put on a pair of argyle socks and pulled a pair of clean blue jeans off a hanger. “G.B. doesn’t make friends easily. He must like you to let you pet him like that.”

“I like him, too.” Nell scooted to the edge of the bed and G.B. rode along in her lap without changing his tune. “It’s just, if one more person asks me how I’m feeling...”

“How you’re feeling about what?” Annie zipped her jeans and opened her dresser to find a long-sleeved T-shirt and a sweater.

“I broke up with Jordan. I thought about what you said this morning, that he was just using me.” Nell pulled out her phone and showed Annie the screen. “I sent him a text.”

Annie read as Nell scrolled through it. Not very concise, but the meaning was clear.

She pulled the T-shirt over her head and reached for the blue sweater. “Looks to me like you handled it just fine. How did he take it? Did he give you an answer?”

Nell cradled the cat in one arm to stand and hand Annie her phone. “A few times. He’s mad, but it’s not like I’m going to change my mind.” She pulled up her sleeve beneath the draped cat to reveal the angry bruise encircling her wrist. “I know the kind of people Nick used to work with. This is nothing compared to what some of them do. Maybe I was trying to get my family’s attention. I mean, Jordan’s cute and stuff, but—”

“A few times?” As disturbing as the abusive mark on Nell’s arm was, the sheer number of texts on the girl’s phone frightened Annie even more.

Still luv u. Want u back.

I won’t take no 4 an ansr.

WTF! Talk to me.

U R MINE.

Annie skipped her shoes and new pink scarf and opened the door. “Nick?” She opened the door and hurried down the hallway, interrupting him at the kitchen counter with a spoonful of minestrone halfway to his mouth. “Look at these. All from Garza. I’ll bet there’s a hundred of them.”

Nick wiped his mouth with a napkin as he scrolled through the text messages. “Son of a bitch.”

“Annie?” Nell had dumped the cat and run through the apartment after her. “What are you doing? I showed you that stuff in confidence.”

“Nell, this is not something you keep secret. This is harassment.” She looked straight into the girl’s stricken blue eyes. “First he hurts you and now he’s threatening you? Trying to coerce you into taking him back?”

“He just feels bad. I text my friends when I’m upset.” She tried to snatch her phone back from her brother, but Nick held it high over his head, easily out of her reach.

At the same time, he was on his own phone, calling the deputy commissioner of KCPD. “Uncle George. I need a twenty on Jordan Garza right now.” Nell surrendered the fight, plopping down on the couch, her whole body in a pout. Nadine and Natalie flanked their sister on either side, offering unwanted condolences, while Connie fixed Annie a mug of soup and Trudy anxiously followed her son down the hallway, eavesdropping on his conversation. Nick was hugging his mom around the shoulders when they came back, the conversation over. “George is heading over to the house right now in case Garza shows up there. It’ll be all right, Mom.”

“I knew I didn’t like that boy.” Trudy patted Annie’s arm as she circled around her to include Connie in the hugs. “To think he hurt my baby.”

Connie reached over to squeeze Annie’s hand. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Connie’s delicate white brows arched in surprise. “Protecting our family.”

It was on the tip of Annie’s tongue to remind her she’d just been doing her job, but another mini-drama was unfolding.

Nick circled around the back of the couch to give Nell’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll take care of it, Nellie. Everything will be fine.”

The teenager shrugged him off and shot to her feet. She whirled around with tears in her eyes. “You said Jordan was a problem and I took care of it. I’m not a baby. You don’t have to fix everything for me.”

“No, you’re a young woman, and I’m protecting you. I’m doing my job—as a cop and as your brother.” She tipped her head to the ceiling and groaned. “I need the people I love to be safe. But I’d do the same for any woman who was being treated like this.” When that got no response except a tear rolling down her cheek, Nick muttered a curse and headed back to the relative privacy of the hallway. “I’m calling Spencer and telling him I need someone to escort you all back home while I take Annie to the lab.” He nodded to her as he stalked past. “Eat something and then we’ll go.”

Connie and Trudy busied themselves pouring soup for the women while they set places in front of the stools at the kitchen counter. A couple of silent minutes passed before Nell came over to Annie and quietly asked, “Is Nicky right? Is sending me all those texts against the law?”

“Yes, it’s sexual harassment.” Annie wasn’t sure if the rest of the family knew the whole truth, but she wasn’t going to lie. “And that bruise on your wrist is an assault.”

“Oh, my God. Nellie.” The other women gathered around in a protective circle, crying and hugging and bringing ice and drying tears.

Annie sat apart and watched. Nell was lucky she had someone like Nick looking out for her. Even if she wasn’t sure she wanted him to.

Leaving that familiar-sounding revelation percolating in her mind, Annie carried her mug of soup to the front window and peeked through the sheers to the snowy twilight outside. It all looked peaceful, serene. Some of that serenity seemed to be finding its way into her cautious heart. Her apartment hadn’t seen this many people, or this kind of emotional energy for years. And even though they were dealing with a difficult topic, it was nice to hear all the activity behind her.

That,
however, wasn’t so nice.

Just as Annie started to relax with the company in her tiny place, her pulse went on red alert. She needed Nick. Now.

“He’s on his way.” She nearly plowed into his chest as he reentered the living room. “Easy, slugger.” With a deft grasp, he saved the minestrone from spilling down the front of his sweater and caught Annie by the arm. “What’s wrong?”

He passed the cup off to one of his sisters as Annie pulled him to the window.

“Look out there.” She pointed outside to where a black Chevy Suburban was parked near the entrance to the lot across the street. “Is that the same car from last night?”

“Our friend, E-14.” Nick closed the curtain, checked the gun on his belt and grabbed his jacket off the rack by the front door. “I’ll go introduce myself.”

Annie unhooked the locks while he zipped up. “Stay put?”

“What do you think?” He squeezed her hand and hurried down the stairs.

All the Fensom women lined up beside Annie at the window to watch Nick creeping swiftly over the snow, from tree to tree in the courtyard, to come up behind the black SUV. With night approaching, the streetlamps were on, but Annie could see Nick’s point about too many dark places where someone could hide. If not for the tiny clouds of breath that followed him through the shadows, she’d have lost him completely.

But now she spotted him darting across the street to the opposite sidewalk. She caught her breath, wrinkling the curtain in her fist when she saw his gun drawn down at his side. “Be careful,” she whispered.

“Amen,” Connie whispered beside her.

“Jordan!” The front door swung open behind them and Nell ran down the stairs, shouting her ex-boyfriend’s name. “Don’t shoot him! Jordan!”

The black SUV belonged to Jordan Garza?

“Nell!” Annie caught the door and hurried down the stairs after her. “Call 9-1-1. Call Spencer Montgomery.” She tossed the orders over her shoulder and burst out into the cold damp night after her. “Nell, get back here!”

“Jordan!”

Hearing his sister’s warning shout, Nick gave up on stealth and ran straight to the driver’s window with his gun leading the way. “KCPD! Get out of the car!”

“That’s Ramon’s car. Jordan’s with him.” Nell slowed down when she reached the slippery sidewalk, but Annie never broke stride.

She grabbed the teen and pulled her down into the snow behind a tree. “Get back here. It isn’t safe.” Nell tried to get free, but Annie threw her entire body weight on top of the girl to hold her there. “I’ve got her, Nick!”

“I don’t want him to die.”

“Which one?” Annie demanded to know. “You don’t think your boyfriend’s got a gun in there, too?”

Her words finally got through to the girl. She stared up at Annie from the crude snow angel their struggle had made. Her voice was quiet, sad. “I’m sorry.”

The driver gunned the engine, shifted into gear.

“I said get out of the car!” Nick understood the situation now, too. “You’re under arrest, Garza! You and Sanchez get on the ground now!”

The SUV’s passenger window rolled down and Jordan Garza yelled across the street. “I gave you a chance to be with me, Nellie! You’re screwed, baby! You’re screwed! Punch it, Ramon!”

Sirens in the distance muffled his shouts.

“Get him, Nicky!” Nell’s allegiance had suddenly changed.

The car hadn’t been after Annie at all. The driver, a thug friend of Jordan, no doubt, had been following Nick, trying to keep tabs on whatever information they could get about KCPD’s gang enforcement activities, probably never realizing that gangs were no longer his primary concern at the department.

The vehicle’s big tires squealed for traction on the icy street.

“Don’t do it, Sanchez!” The SUV peeled away from the curb. Two shots rang out.

“Nick!” Annie raised her head.

He’d shot out a tire. The big vehicle fishtailed into the street, smashing into a couple of cars on the opposite side. The driver accelerated again, forcing the SUV to lurch forward.

Flashing lights bounced off the wall of the apartment buildings as an unmarked cruiser whipped around the corner, blocking their escape. It screeched to a stop and Spencer Montgomery jumped out, bracing his gun on the open door of the car and ordering them to stop.

Ramon Sanchez shifted his souped-up Chevy into Reverse and barreled back past the courtyard until
bam!
—a black-and-white KCPD truck blocked the street behind them and they crashed into another car. With Detective Montgomery coming straight down the middle of the street with his gun pointed at the windshield and Nick running toward them from the side, the two 7th Streeters threw open their doors and jumped out of the SUV, running for the only open ground in sight—the snowy courtyard where Annie and Nell crouched beneath an evergreen tree.

Big Pike Taylor climbed out of the black-and-white truck and opened the door behind him. “Get down on the ground! Now!”

But the boys kept running.

“No guns!” Nick shouted. “We’ve got civilians!”

“This is my fault,” Nell moaned.

“Just stay down,” Annie warned, pushing her back into the snow.

Sanchez flew past, heading for the break between the buildings. Jordan ran by them. A flash of denim and brown leather pounded through the snow after him. A terrible, wild bark filled the night.

“Hans, get him!”

In a matter of seconds, Nick had tackled Jordan Garza and had him in handcuffs. Pike’s K-9 partner, Hans, had Ramon Sanchez by the arm on the ground, pleading for mercy and a quick arrest.

Annie didn’t let Nell up until both teens had been loaded in the back of a black-and-white police car that had answered the 9-1-1 call. Pike was playing a rewarding came of tug-of-war with his German shepherd. She and Nell were both wet and shivering when Nick ran over to find them. “You two okay?”