by Kathy Harris
When Caleb returned his focus to the Rutherford, a solitary figure loitering in front of the high rise caught his attention. In the few weeks Caleb had surveilled this building, he had become familiar with its residents. There were occasional strangers, of course, but this man, at this hour, didn’t fit that profile. The Rutherford had a young, upwardly mobile clientele, and this character looked out of place, leaving cause for reasonable concern.
Caleb watched as the lanky, dark-clothed man lingered near the entrance. He appeared to be studying the keyless entry system, and his hesitation indicated unfamiliarity. Caleb counted ten seconds before the suspect raised his hand to punch in the code. When he did, the main entrance doors opened.
The stranger wasted no time entering the building. He hurried through the lobby, past the empty guard desk, and stopped in front of the bank of elevators visible through the front window.
Caleb crossed the street to improve his sightline. From the shadows he watched the lift doors slide open and the man step inside. Within seconds the floor indicator lights began to illuminate. One by one, the elevator crept upward toward the penthouse, stopping short at the seventh floor. The floor where Robert Evans lived.
Bingo!
Like any good cop, Caleb trusted his hunches. And he didn’t believe in coincidences. Both of those tenets had kept him alive for the five years he had worked with the Bureau. With his right hand he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed for backup. With his left he pounded on the front door of the Rutherford.
A drowsy-looking security guard, evidently just returning from his rounds, ambled in Caleb’s direction. Caleb flashed a badge and pointed toward the elevators.
“I’m TBI. I have reason to believe a felony is in progress on the seventh floor.”
The guard blinked but didn’t move.
“Come on, man. Let me in!”
Caleb pulled his 9mm Glock from the holster secured to his ankle and pounded on the door again.
The guard nodded, released the locking mechanism, and stepped away from the door.
Wasting no time, Caleb pushed through, stopping only to ask directions to the nearest stairwell. If he was going to surprise the suspect, he needed to avoid the elevator.
“Over there—”
The guard moved to follow Caleb, but he waved him off, shouting over his shoulder. “I’ve called Metro. Stay here and direct them to the seventh floor.”
“Yes, sir.” It appeared the young rent-a-cop hadn’t witnessed this much action in his entire career. Now was his chance to be a hero.
Caleb jogged toward the stairwell—thankful he had only seven flights to ascend and was in good enough shape to accomplish the task quickly. Taking the first flight of stairs two steps at a time, he calmed his mind by anticipating how it would feel to cuff the thug and question him for information that might move this case along.
As soon as he reached the seventh-floor landing, he paused to listen and assess his surroundings. Only silence and the sound of his own heavy breathing filled his ears.
Caleb cracked open the stairwell door, stopping to listen again. This time he heard a faint scraping noise.
Confident the intruder was far enough from the stairwell door, and distracted, Caleb sent up a silent prayer of protection and widened the opening enough to pass his head and shoulders through. About fifty yards to the left, the suspect hovered in front of the entrance to one of the residential units.
If Caleb had been afraid the man would see him, that fear was soon forgotten. Within seconds, the intruder breached the door and stepped inside the premises. Immediately the elevator doors opened, and two uniformed officers rushed into the hallway, guns drawn. Turning first in one direction and then the other, the cops scanned the hallway and then leveled their firearms at Caleb’s chest.
He acknowledged them with a flash of his badge, arms raised. “TBI undercover. Your man’s down the hall.” He pointed toward the open door at the far end of the corridor. “I’ve got your back.”
One of the uniformed men nodded, and the pair sprinted toward the breached apartment while Caleb crossed the hall to watch from behind an upright architectural beam jutting from the wall. If this ended up being a routine break-in, he might not have to break his cover.
He watched as the two officers took positions on either side of the unit door, the taller man on the right, the shorter on the left. After pausing to listen to what was going on inside, the smaller officer stepped into the opening and shouted. “Police. Come out with your hands up.” Seconds later, the burglar alarm went off.
Caleb’s first impulse was to shield his ears, but there was no time. Someone was opening the door to the apartment next to the compromised unit. An innocent life was about to be put in jeopardy. His mind flashed back to a drug deal gone bad more than a decade ago. That mistake would haunt him for the rest of his life, and he wouldn’t make it again.
He would have to act fast if he was going to neutralize this situation.
Danni fumbled with the locks on the front door of her condo. Right now, she would love to get her hands on the person who had set off that obnoxious alarm. And if the voices she had heard were coming from Rob’s apartment, as she had suspected when she was first awakened, that person would be Rob.
Why did he keep forgetting to tell her he had changed his schedule and was coming home early? His lack of respect could be frustrating. Nothing seemed to change with him.
She stood on her tiptoes to stare into the peephole, remembering the last time he had hidden beneath it. Sophie pushed against her, almost knocking her off her feet.
“Stay back, girl.” Danni forced the dog into a sitting position. “I’ll take care of this.” She stroked her head. “Then we can get some sleep.”
The Newfoundland stared at her with a blank expression that told Danni she wasn’t buying any part of her story. If Danni hadn’t been so tired, it would have been amusing. Sophie could always manage to provide levity in any situation. But she would laugh later. Right now, it was time to find out why Rob had returned sooner than expected.
Danni turned the handle on the door and opened it just enough to peer into the well-lit hallway, looking in the direction of the elevators. Taking a sleeping pill to forestall another sleepless night had seemed like a great idea two hours ago, but at this point she had to work hard to shake the cobwebs from her head.
None of this made sense. If Rob was in town, why had the alarm gone off?
Caleb tucked his Glock into his waistband and stood out of sight of the peephole, to the right of the door. If he was going to get the upper hand, he would have to catch the occupant of the apartment by surprise. No one who woke up in the middle of the night to a disturbance would give credence to a homeless guy barking instructions at them. They would expect the worse, so he prepared for a fight. The safety of innocents was his first objective.
He would explain his tactics later, after they were secured. And, although he hoped he wouldn’t have to tackle a football player or a trigger-happy vigilante, Caleb was confident he could handle whoever appeared at the door. Years of training and street experience—along with the element of surprise—would give him an advantage. Still, he mustered all of his strength as the door opened wider.
The dark-haired woman dressed in a white robe took a tentative step into the hallway, peering to her right. She never saw what, or who, hit her. He lunged forward, pushing her sideways and back across the threshold into the safety of her apartment. With one arm around her waist to keep her from falling, he used the other to close the door behind them.
She screamed. And then a big dog lunged from out of nowhere.
CHAPTER 5
After midnight – March 18
The man who had pushed Danni was now lying in a fetal position on the entry floor and shielding his head from Sophie’s snarling teeth. She had to do something. But what? There was no way to step around him and run for help.
She spotted a large vase on the hall table and reach
ed to grab it. Securing the heavy object in both hands, Danni raised it high above her head, then hesitated. How could she be sure she wouldn’t hit Sophie? The Newfoundland was her sole protector—the only thing between Danni and an unspeakable end, if this stranger should best her.
She would have to deliver a knockout blow. And it had to be accurate.
When Sophie backed off, Danni poised to strike. Then the intruder turned his face upward, pleading for her to call off the dog.
It was the face of the street stalker!
Fear gripped Danni’s throat, muffling her gasp, and then she heard the sound of gunfire down the hall. He wasn’t alone.
She sent the vase crashing down onto the stranger’s head.
An hour later, a uniformed Metro police officer sat perched on the edge of Danni’s sofa. He held a notepad in one hand and a pen in the other.
Danni pushed deeper into a armchair halfway across the room. Sophie lay next to her on the floor. Since the attack, the dog hadn’t left her side.
“Is that dog secure, ma’am?” The officer eyed Sophie.
“Yes, she’s fine.” Danni patted Sophie on the head. “I’m not sure what got into her a while ago. She usually loves people.”
The officer assessed Danni’s grip on the dog’s collar and then continued his questioning. “Ms. . . . ?”
“Kemp. Danielle Kemp.”
“Can you tell me what happened, Ms. Kemp?”
“I’m not sure.” Danni pulled her robe tighter to her waist and thought back to the events of the past hour. “I heard voices shouting in the unit next door. Since it’s my boyfriend’s condo, and he’s out of town, I decided to check it out.” She replayed the moment in her head. “Then that obnoxious alarm went off.”
“About what time was that?”
“I don’t know. I’d been asleep an hour or two. Maybe one thirty?”
The man scribbled on his pad. “What happened next?”
“The sound was deafening. I knew I had to do something.” Danni reflected on her decision to enter the hallway. “I guess I did the wrong thing. I probably should have stayed inside my unit.”
“That might have been best, ma’am.” The officer nodded as he continued to write.
“As soon as I opened the door the homeless man jumped at me. He pushed me back inside, and I thought . . .” An involuntary shiver ran down her spine. “I thought something awful was about to happen to me.”
“I understand.” The officer looked up.
For the first time, Danni saw compassion in his eyes. “I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”
“That’s when your dog attacked him?” He glanced toward Sophie, who was now sitting with her head in Danni’s lap.
Danni relaxed her hold on the leash. “Yes. Thank God.” She bent to give Sophie a kiss on the head. “But I couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt, and I was afraid the attacker was about to get the upper hand. That’s why I grabbed the closest thing I could find.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, it was an expensive vase. Rob is going to kill me.”
“Is Rob your boyfriend?”
“Yes. Actually, we’re almost engaged.”
“Then I’m sure he’ll agree that losing a vase is better than losing you, ma’am.” The man studied her face.
“Of course.” She was grateful the officer understood her predicament. Perhaps she wouldn’t get in trouble for taking matters into her own hands. “I hope I didn’t hurt him—you know, the homeless guy—too badly. Do you think he’ll be okay?”
The officer returned his notebook to his pocket and stood. “He’ll probably have a headache for a few days.” The man chuckled. “We’ll know more when we see you at the station.”
“The police station?” Danni scrambled to her feet, wobbled, and steadied herself with the arm of the chair. The sleeping pill she had taken a few hours ago definitely hadn’t been a good idea.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” The officer reached toward her. Sophie growled.
Danni reined in the leash. “Yes. I’m just . . . exhausted. I thought this was over. You know, I don’t really want to go to the police station.”
“I’m afraid it’s necessary if you’re going to press charges.”
“Press charges? I’m not sure—”
“Ms. Kemp, I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But the guy did assault you in your own home. You could be saving another person from something worse down the road.”
Or give him reason to come back for me. Especially now he knew where she lived. Or had he already known where she lived? After all he had found his way to her front door.
Danni’s hands trembled as she wrapped her fingers around Sophie’s collar and escorted the officer to the door.
“If we haven’t heard from you, we’ll follow up with you in a few days.” He handed her a business card. “We’ll also need to talk to your boyfriend. He will need to sign paperwork to press charges for the break-in next door.”
Danni tucked the card into the pocket of her robe. “Thank you, officer. I’ll have him call you as soon as he can. He’s out of town.”
“Goodnight, Ms. Kemp.” The officer gestured to the deadbolt on her front door. “Lock yourself in and try to get some sleep.”
Well, he could count on her locking the door. But sleep? That was a different matter. Closing the door and checking the lock twice, Danni took off in search of her phone. She had to talk to Rob now. Even if it was two o’clock in the morning.
Caleb awoke lying flat on his back in a speeding ambulance. The pain in his head dug deep into the left side of his skull, reminding him of the time his brother had whopped him on the head with a croquet mallet. Of course that childhood incident had been an accident. The dark-haired woman had intended to clobber him. Not that he blamed her. She had undoubtedly thought he was the bad guy. Undercover cops dressed as hobos weren’t usually welcomed as houseguests.
The last thing Caleb remembered was reaching for his badge and then seeing a large object speeding toward his head. The crash had split his eardrums, and then shards of glass had penetrated his skull.
Ouch! Caleb made an effort to lift his hand, but an EMT sitting next to him grabbed his arm and eased it back to the cot. “Hey, buddy. You don’t want to do that. Your hand is bandaged.”
Bandaged? “Why—?”
“Dog bites.” The tech smiled, a big toothy grin. “Before you got decked by a woman.” The man shook his head. “A good-looking one too. What’d you do to deserve that?”
The big guy seemed to be enjoying Caleb’s predicament. “Thanks for your sympathy, but I need to—” Caleb reached with his unbandaged hand for his badge.
“Whoa.” The EMT grabbed his arm again. “No need to do that. The police took your weapon. Maybe you’ll get it back if everything checks out. But for now, just relax and let us take care of you. We’re almost to the hospital.”
Robert Evans escorted his guest down the long, dimly lit hallway toward the exit of the bus. The soft light emitted by strings of digital LEDs running along the top and bottom of the front lounge sidewalls provided just enough illumination to navigate safely between the sofa on the left and a pair of leather chairs on the right.
He leaned across his guest to flip a switch on the driver’s side panel, opening two hydraulic doors into the chilly night.
“I had a good time.” The slender young woman, barely twenty years of age, if Rob had judged correctly, teetered on the top step and then planted a kiss on his cheek. “Call me sometime.” She smiled.
He brushed his hand against her brow and nodded. She was a beautiful woman, but he didn’t need to be tied down with another relationship. He stifled a yawn. He had a full schedule in the morning.
This morning. It was now well past midnight.
The blond hurried down the stairs, then turned and waved before disappearing around the front of the coach.
Rob lingered for just a second before closing the door and retracing his steps to the back of the bus. Pi
cking up his phone, he saw several missed calls from Danni.
It would wait. Right now, he needed his sleep.
He switched the setting on his phone from Do Not Disturb and tossed the smartphone onto the nightstand before climbing into bed.
CHAPTER 6
Rob awoke from a dreamless sleep to the accusatory ring of his cell phone. Reaching across the darkness, he snagged the menacing object from his nightstand, answering without a glance to the caller ID. It was either Danni or one of his tour managers.
If it was Danni, she wouldn’t be happy, because he hadn’t called her back, but he could smooth it over easily enough. However, dealing with one his tour managers at this time of morning might require a little more finesse. He had learned years ago that the worst problems started at night or in the early morning when tour buses and trucks had stalled between cities. Or when band members had been busted for imbibing too much in a bar.
Rob cleared his head, and his throat, for what would come next. “Hello.”
“Robert.”
Ramirez? It wasn’t the wakeup call he’d expected.
Rob sat up in bed. “Yes, sir.”
“We have trouble in Nashville.”
“Excuse me, sir?” Rob glanced at his watch. 5 a.m. “What could be—?”
“You’ve had a break-in at your place, and the word on the street is it was an amateur.”
Val Ramirez’s voice betrayed his anger, uncharacteristic for a man who could be listed in the dictionary under stoic.
Rob switched on his bedside lamp and rubbed his eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“You know as well as I do, Robert, a break-in is like sending an invitation to the cops.”
“You’re right, sir. I’ll take care of it. I don’t—”
“This is the last thing we need. I want to know how a street thug heard about your cache.”
“I don’t know, sir. I’m always careful.” Rob swung around, dangling his feet off the side of the bed.
