Unleashed

by Jacob Stone

  Chapter 5

  Morris often daydreamed about lazy Saturdays like this when he was on the force. As they had arranged, Kat brought Parker back at ten, which allowed him and Natalie to stay in bed until then. Since all three of them had worked up an appetite that morning and he had planned ahead, he played chef and prepared a bacon, cheddar, tomato, and spinach frittata from a recipe he had clipped earlier in the week from the LA Times.

  He had never attempted anything more advanced than scrambled eggs before, and Nat offered to help, but he insisted that she relax while he cooked up the frittata, and she only half-heartedly fought him on it. So, while he peeled and diced an onion, chopped up a tomato, cooked a pound of bacon in a cast-iron skillet, and beat the eggs into a frothy mixture, Natalie sat at the kitchen table, drank coffee, read the paper, and repeatedly bit her tongue to keep from offering advice. While the end result might not have looked exactly like the picture in the recipe, Morris thought it was tasty, Natalie claimed the same, and Parker nearly inhaled the slice Morris slipped into his dish.

  After what had to be considered a successful brunch, they lingered over coffee before Morris again insisted that Natalie relax, this time while he took care of the dishes. She didn’t put up a fight this time, not even a token one.

  “You’re spoiling me,” she said.

  “Not nearly as much as I’d like to.”

  From out of his peripheral vision, he caught the contented way she looked at him, and that made him smile.

  “It’s a nice, sunny day,” she announced. “I’ll be pottering around in the garden.”

  He watched as Natalie got up and headed out the patio door, with Parker trotting along after her. Once he had the kitchen cleaned up and everything put away, he joined her out in the yard and spent the next two hours pruning shrubs and filling up two green recycling bins with the trimmings. While he did this, Natalie weeded flower beds and Parker did his best to get underfoot. Now that they were back inside the house, all three of them went to the den; Morris lounging on a recliner with the newspaper, Natalie sitting on the sectional with her feet tucked up under her as she read a book, and Parker lying like a lump on his side in front of the same sectional. The book Natalie was so engrossed in was a Frankenstein-retelling from an obscure Boston author. She’d become a fan of this author after reading another of his novels, the earlier one about an odd type of weed that might or might not bring about the end of world.

  Morris heard a jingling from Parker’s dog collar, and saw that the bull terrier had raised his head, his ears perked up. Parker made several excited grunts, pushed himself to his feet, and took off in the direction of the front door, his ropy tail whipping back and forth. Morris got up and followed along after him. Even before he heard a knock on the door, followed by a key turning in the lock, he knew who it had to be. He was at the door in time to greet Rachel. He gave her a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then took the box from Maxine’s Bakery that she had brought so she could get on her knees and wrestle Parker. Morris didn’t know the bakery, but whatever was inside was heavy.

  “This is a pleasant surprise,” he said.

  Rachel was too busy at first keeping Parker from licking her face wet to respond. Once she had the dog corralled, she asked with a grin, “My visit or the dessert from Maxine’s?”

  “Both.”

  Parker had calmed down enough so that he was only wagging his tail and panting happily. Rachel hugged the bull terrier tightly and kissed him on top of his cement-hard head before getting back onto her feet. By this time Natalie had joined them, and she and Rachel embraced.

  Morris interrupted them to show Natalie the box from Maxine’s. “Our daughter came bearing a gift.”

  Natalie gave Rachel a careful look. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  “Things couldn’t be better. How about we head to the kitchen, make some coffee, and have some dessert?”

  Morris had been an LAPD homicide detective for too many years not to pick up on clues. For example, from the size of the box and its weight, he was pretty sure there was a cheesecake inside. And given the cat-who-ate-the-canary grin on his daughter’s lips and her concerted effort to shield the ring finger on her left hand, he had a good idea why she was really there and what she was planning to tell them. It added up. She’d been dating Doug Gilman for a little over a year, and a week ago when they had dinner together Morris could see how relaxed they were with each other. It was more than just that. He saw the looks and smiles they exchanged, as if the two of them shared a secret code that only they knew. But he kept his suspicions to himself, even though he could tell from how tensely Natalie was now studying Rachel that his wife was expecting the same news.

  They headed back as a group to the kitchen, all of them too deep in their private thoughts to speak. Parker, who had recovered from his excitement at seeing Rachel, noticed the box Morris was carrying, and tried unsuccessfully to stick his nose into it. Morris, for his part, was trying to come to grips with what was coming. He didn’t want to show any of the uneasiness he felt when Rachel announced to them her engagement; and he also couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way. Gilman was a good man. He knew that.

  He had first met Gilman when, in Gilman’s role as the mayor’s deputy assistant, he’d arranged for Morris and MBI to take charge of the Skull Cracker Killer investigation. At the time, Morris thought this was a purely political move by an astute and ambitious young politician who hoped to gain influence in the mayor’s office, but he later came to understand that Gilman’s only motivation was that he wanted to see the killer caught before any more lives were taken. Morris liked him a good deal more after that. He also knew Gilman cherished his daughter, and although Rachel kept her feelings close to the vest, he suspected that his daughter felt the same way about him. So why was he feeling so anxious? Because they’d only been dating for a year? That made no sense. He had only known Nat a week before he knew he wanted to marry her. Could it be only a selfish impulse because he didn’t want to lose his little girl? Rachel was twenty-four and as independent as they came. If that was his reason, he better get over it damn quick!

  When they got to the kitchen, Morris started a pot of coffee while Natalie and Rachel set the table. With that done, it was left to Morris to open the Maxine’s Bakery box and as he suspected, it held a cheesecake, one that was decorated with cherries and blueberries.

  “Maxine’s is famous for that,” Rachel said.

  Morris had never heard of the bakery, but he nodded as if he had. He smelled a whiff of bourbon. No wonder their cheesecake was so famous! When he picked up a knife to slice the cake, Rachel offered to do the honors. It was only then that she let them see the ring finger on her left hand, and as Morris expected, she was wearing a diamond engagement ring. Natalie must’ve been looking for the ring also, because she burst out into tears, and she and Rachel met for a tight embrace.

  Morris felt his own eyes tearing up, but he played dumb. “I don’t get it,” he said.

  “Men,” Natalie said with a smile of pure joy once she separated from her daughter, her face already wet with tears. Rachel grinned from ear to ear as she pointed out the engagement ring. Morris continued to play dumb for several more seconds, only because a lump had formed in his throat and he wasn’t sure he could talk right away. When he did talk next, his voice came out as a hoarse croak and he whispered “Mazel tov” to Rachel, then moved in and kissed her on the forehead. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the wetness from his eyes. The anxiousness he was feeling before was gone. Now he only felt happiness for his daughter.

  Natalie was bursting with questions for Rachel, and so Morris took the knife, cut the cheesecake into slices, put three of them on plates, and got the coffee together. As he did this he half-listened as Nat asked about the wedding plans and tried to convince their stubborn daughter to let them throw an engagement party. Later, as they were sitting at the k
itchen table sampling the bourbon-soaked blueberry and cherry cheesecake, Morris asked why Rachel didn’t bring her fiancé along.

  “Doug wanted to come, but I thought it would be better if it was just us when I told you the news.” Rachel’s slate gray eyes slitted and her lips tightened into a hard smile. “I didn’t want you digging out your old baseball bat.”

  Morris had played third base for his high school team, and scouts thought he was good enough that he could’ve played pro ball someday, but he’d decided early on that he wanted to follow in his dad’s footsteps and be an LAPD homicide detective. He did, however, keep his bat from his senior year’s state championship game—a game in which he had hit two home runs. He thought he might someday pass the bat along to a son, but he only had one child—Rachel, and while she played soccer and basketball (at four feet ten inches as a high school freshman, she was an undersized point guard, but still a starter) she never had any interest in baseball. He still kept the bat and he used it when Rachel brought home boyfriends. He’d show the boys the bat and he let them know what would happen if they ever disrespected his daughter. While he never showed it to Doug Gilman, he still told Gilman the same story a year ago when he discovered Gilman was dating his daughter.

  “The bat’s been retired,” Morris promised between bites of bourbon-infused cheesecake.

  Chapter 6

  “You look as tired as I’m feeling,” Alex said.

  His fiancée showed him a weary smile. “I’m good,” she insisted.

  He didn’t argue the obvious. It made sense for Jill to look wiped out. She had spent weeks running around to make sure that every detail of their engagement party would be just right, and once the party started she was on like he’d never seen before as the two of them spent the entire time making the rounds and chatting with guests.

  They returned back to the apartment a half hour ago, and their plan had been to put on more comfortable clothing and head straight out to their favorite Santa Monica bar for burgers and beer—something they hadn’t done since Jill accepted his marriage proposal. But he had worn her down earlier, insisting that since she had eaten almost nothing that day, she could break with her pre-wedding diet this one time. Fortunately, she was too hungry to argue and so she agreed. Even though they had all that ridiculously delicious-looking (and expensive) food at the party—food that they had so carefully selected—they ended up being too busy to eat even a bite of it. But thanks to the security firm Jill’s parents had hired, their plans were quickly shot once she saw the piles of gifts that were left stacked up in the bedroom. Of course, she wanted to open one or two of them before they left (and truth be told, so did Alex). They started with the gift cards, but those soon became like potato chips—it was impossible to stop after one.

  After a mad frenzy of ripping open the gift cards and tallying up an impressive amount in cash and checks—enough to pay for their planned Paris honeymoon, as well as upgrade to a suite at the Four Seasons—they were now sitting cross-legged among the wreckage. At Jill’s urging, Alex had opened three additional gifts, unveiling a high-end cappuccino maker from Jill’s sister, a chef-quality German knife set from one of his uncles, and a Baccarat crystal bowl from one of Jill’s sorority sisters, but his stomach was rumbling and he knew Jill had to be even hungrier since, unlike himself, she hadn’t eaten any quiche lorraine that morning.

  “The rest of these gifts will wait,” he said. “If we don’t get burgers in our bellies soon, we’ll be passing out.”

  “One more,” she pleaded. “After that, we’ll get going. I swear.”

  She gave him that puppy-dog look she was so good at and was impossible for him to resist. What else could he do but take one more gift-wrapped box from the pile? He chose a smaller one—a cube-shaped box that was ten inches by ten inches.

  “I’ll open this one, but if I have to put you on my shoulder and carry you out afterwards, I will,” he threatened.

  Jill looked quite pleased with herself. Alex used one of the German-chef knives to cut through the wrapping paper and slice the cardboard box open.

  He pulled the flaps apart and frowned as he looked inside. “There’s no card,” he said. He reached inside and took out a heavy tissue-paper-wrapped object. There was a second one just like it. He gave the wrapped gift a puzzled look.

  “I think it’s a coffee mug,” he said, his voice showing his disbelief over that prospect.

  “Give it to me.”

  He handed it to Jill while he took the other one from the box and ripped away the tissue paper. He had guessed right: It was a coffee mug. A cheap, cheesy-looking one with a cartoon drawing of a chubby little boy kissing an equally chubby little girl with pigtails. Underneath the cartoon drawing were emblazoned World’s Cutest Couple, and above it were a bunch of hearts.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said.

  Jill, who was the most positive person he had ever met, seemed amused by it. “It’s a gag gift,” she said. “I bet it’s from Todd. But I like it. I’m bringing it to work with me on Monday.”

  Alex thought it over. Yeah, it made sense that Todd would give them these. His brother had a perverse sense of humor, to put it mildly, and he was probably laughing his ass off right now, knowing that Jill would insist for sentimental reasons that Alex use one of them, which meant that he’d have to look at this ugly-as-sin mug every day, at least until he accidentally broke it.

  Enough of this. “I kept my end of the deal,” he said. “Let’s get going before we pass out.”

  He could see that Jill was about to beg that he open one more gift. He knew the argument she was going to make. That a gag gift shouldn’t count. But before she could say anything, their intercom buzzed.

  Saved by the bell, he thought.

  He got up and headed to the hallway so he could answer the intercom. Jill joined him. When he pressed the intercom button and asked who it was, a man’s voice said, “Roma’s Pizza. I have a delivery.”

  He wondered whether Roma’s could’ve found out about his and Jill’s engagement, since Roma’s was their favorite pizza place. “I didn’t order anything,” he said.

  There was the sound of paper rustling over the intercom, then, “It says here the order was paid for by Todd Frey.”

  That made sense. Sending over a pizza was exactly what his brother would do. He might be a smart-ass at times, but he also had a good heart, and he’d know that the two of them would be worn-out after the party. Still, knowing Todd, there was a chance he’d send over something like broccoli and anchovies, which Jill would like but he’d hate.

  “What type of pizza?”

  “A large fig jam and prosciutto.”

  He raised a questioning eyebrow toward Jill. He’d had his heart set on a burger, but this was their favorite pizza. She leaned in close to him and wrapped a thin arm around his waist.

  “Why not?” she said. “We’ll be getting to bed earlier this way. And I made you a promise this morning.”

  Well, that settled it! Alex pressed the intercom button and told the guy to come right up. While they waited, Jill nestled in closer to him and whispered in his ear all the things she’d be doing to Mr. Willie Winkie, assuming he was able to make a return visit. Her hand crept down to feel that that wasn’t going to be an issue.

  “How about we eat one slice to keep up our strength, and then head to bed,” Alex suggested. “We could keep the rest of the pizza warming in the oven and have it when we’re done.”

  She smiled naughtily. “Or when we need to replenish our strength.”

  Thank you, Todd, he thought.

  There was a knock on the door. Alex gave a quick look through the security peephole and saw a guy his age wearing an LA Dodgers baseball cap pulled low over his forehead and holding a large Roma’s Pizza box. He wrestled his wallet out from his back pocket so he could give the guy a twenty-dollar tip. The pizza might’ve
already been paid for, but it had been a perfect day so far and he expected it to only get better, so why not pay it forward? With the twenty in hand, he opened the door. Before he could say anything, or even reach for the pizza, the box was slammed into his chest. He stumbled back, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a foot-long club swinging at his head. Whatever it was hit him in the left ear and knocked him woozy. His feet slid out from under him, and next thing he knew he was tumbling to the floor.

  The room spun crazily around him as he lay sprawled out in the hallway. Nauseous and desperate, he fought to push himself to his knees, but his muscles had become rubbery and there seemed to be a disconnect between his brain and body. While his thinking remained jumbled, he still had enough wits about him to know his attacker had rushed past him. A cold horror filled him, realizing that Jill was defenseless. If she screamed, there was a chance that could bring help, but he didn’t hear her scream. Instead, he only heard the sickening sound of something hard smacking flesh. This caused him to fight harder to get to his feet so he could save Jill. The spinning had slowed down enough so that when he lifted his head he could see that Jill lay crumpled on the floor. A second later he was kicked in the jaw and the world disappeared on him.

  Chapter 7

  When Alex woke up, he couldn’t remember where he was or what had happened. The only thing he knew was that his head throbbed, his jaw ached; his shoulders also. Something was wrong with his tongue. It felt unnaturally fuzzy, the same with the inside of his mouth, like it was stuffed with cotton. No, not cotton: something scratchier. It also hurt when he tried opening his eyes. Almost like tiny little slivers of glass were cutting into his eyeballs. He remembered then about opening the door for the pizza-delivery guy and being attacked.

  Oh, Jesus, Jill!

  He forced his eyes open enough so he could see that Jill was sitting naked in a chair across from him, maybe six feet away. His vision was blurry and the room ebbed in and out, but he could still see that duct tape had been wrapped around her mouth. The brightness in the room made him squeeze his eyes closed. When he could open them again, he saw that it was far worse than her being stripped naked and gagged. Her ankles were bound tightly to the chair legs by duct tape and her arms pulled back behind her. Something was very wrong with her right shoulder. It sloped downward and was bent unnaturally. He forced his gaze upward and saw that her eyes were wet with tears and her face rigid with fear. It was like a punch in the heart seeing her like that.