Scene of the Crime

by Sharon Dunn

  The Queens’ officer disappeared into the trees while Jackson ran the other way. Within minutes, the K-9 team was clear of the trees. Jackson’s feet pounded across the baseball diamonds as he looked side to side. Up ahead was another cluster of trees where 80th Street and 19th Avenue intersected.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. More help was on the way. Smokey picked up the pace as they got closer to the trees. He must have detected something.

  They entered the treed area. Jackson could hear the hum of traffic on 19th Avenue not far away. A closer noise drew his attention back to the trees. He and Smokey headed in that direction.

  He stopped when something shiny on the ground caught his attention. The rifle. Chloe must have ditched it because she’d be too easy to spot hauling it on the street. That meant she was panicked and close by.

  With Smokey’s help, he did a quick search for her in the area where the rifle had been dropped then raced toward the street. Once clear of the trees, his view was of cars, streets, people and buildings. He scanned everywhere, locking on to the face of every pedestrian. All she had to do was blend in and not call attention to herself. He tried to get a look at the people in the cars, as well.

  Not wanting to be slowed down by carrying the rifle, Jackson continued his search, running for several blocks before giving up. The smart thing to do would be to get the rifle before someone snatched it, so it could be taken into evidence. He also needed to find a cop with a radio so the other officers could shift their search parameters, though now that Chloe was in the city, the chances of catching her were substantially reduced.

  He went back to where the rifle was, conducting an even deeper search of the area on the outside chance Chloe had returned. He found nothing.

  As he carried the rifle, Jackson gritted his teeth. A sense of frustration overtook him. At least Chloe couldn’t shoot from a distance anymore. That just meant she would find some other way to get to Darcy.

  * * *

  Darcy sat in the back of the patrol car wishing she could be helping in some way. Several calls came over the radio, indicating that the police had completed searches of different areas without finding Chloe and that more officers were arriving.

  The patrol officer paced through the parking lot and searched the edges of it. He looked in Darcy’s direction every five minutes. She waited, staring at the ceiling.

  Another call came over the police radio. A rifle had been found, but still no shooter.

  Darcy tapped her fingers on the seat.

  Her phone rang. Good, it still worked. She was glad she’d sprung for the waterproof model. The number was Harlan’s, not Jackson’s. She quelled her disappointment.

  “Hey, Harlan. What’s up?”

  “Darcy, have you been watching the news?”

  “No, I’ve been a bit preoccupied.”

  “Maybe it’s better that way.” Harlan sounded distressed.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Look, this was not my decision. But I asked to be the one to break the news to you even though I’m not your boss.”

  Darcy felt that familiar twisting knot in her stomach. “Don’t drag it out. Just tell me.”

  “This whole thing with Reuben and the gun found at the Martel crime scene... The press won’t let go of the idea that the K-9 Unit put pressure on Forensics to come up with evidence that linked the first murder to Reuben Bray.”

  This was not news to her. “Harlan, tell me something I don’t already know.” She knew Harlan was probably taking a long time to get to the point because he cared about her feelings.

  “The higher-ups think it would be good if you went on paid leave until the air clears over this. They will make a statement and there will be an investigation into the allegations. I know that you are good at your job. They think once Reuben’s trial takes place, and the details get out to the press, this will blow over. You’re always amazing on the stand, Darcy,” he said. “The trial will be televised. People will know you would never be sloppy in your work or cave to pressure from anyone.”

  Her throat went tight. “Okay, I guess if that’s how it has to be.”

  “Darcy, I’m really sorry about this.”

  “It’s not your fault. The trial will go forward, and people will see the truth.” She ended the call, determined not to give in to negative thoughts. The thing that bothered her the most was that her work on the Emery case would be put on the back burner again.

  Someone tapped on her window.

  She started, not realizing how deep in thought she’d been. It was Jackson, Smokey heeled at his side.

  She rolled down the window, noting Jackson’s grim expression. “I heard on the radio what happened. At least she doesn’t have a rifle anymore.”

  He nodded. “Since it is only a strong theory that Chloe is behind all this... If the rifle can be linked to her, it won’t be just a theory anymore.”

  “That’s how cases get solved. One piece of evidence at a time.” She tried to sound hopeful.

  Jackson shook his head. “Look, I’m going to see if I can get a patrol car to take us back to your apartment. I’ll clear the place and stay with you until an officer is parked outside. I’m kind of useless without a radio anyway. I do need to swing by somewhere and get a temp phone. Too dangerous to be without one.”

  She heard the despair in his voice. She felt it, too.

  When would this be over?

  FOURTEEN

  Jackson awoke in Darcy’s dark living room to Smokey’s low-level growl.

  He’d fallen asleep on her couch. When it looked like the department couldn’t spare a patrol car to sit outside for several hours, he’d opted to stay with her, especially because her sister was away on another school trip and Darcy would be alone. The plunge into the river had caught up with both of them. Darcy had gone to sleep in her room, and he had conked out, as well, falling into a deep sleep.

  Jackson reached out to touch Smokey where he lay on the floor by the couch. “What is it, boy?” It could just be a loud noise on the street that had alarmed Smokey.

  All the same, Jackson needed to check it out. Except for a light from the kitchen, which was bright enough to see by, the room was dark.

  He sat up. The shades on Darcy’s repaired window had been drawn. Feeling rested, he rose and walked across the room, pulling the curtain back so he had a view of the street. Though it was past ten, the neighborhood was still very much alive at this time of night. Traffic, though sparse, clipped by on the street. Behind him, Smokey was still agitated.

  Jackson moved down the hallway, padding softly. He eased Darcy’s door open just a crack to make sure she was okay. The night-light illuminated her sleeping form, Mr. Tubbs next to her.

  It was still at least an hour before the patrol division would have an officer available to protect Darcy. He stepped back down the hall and returned to the living room/kitchen area. He stopped by the couch. Though he could not say why, something had shifted since he’d left the room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears. He couldn’t see or hear Smokey.

  He stepped closer to the kitchen. His dog lay on his side, motionless.

  He barely had time to register the blow to the back of his head before he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

  * * *

  Darcy awoke with as start in total darkness. Her night-light had stopped working. Mr. Tubbs leaped off the bed, making a yowling noise that indicated distress.

  Darcy sat up, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the darkness and for the fog of sleep to lift. As she rose from the bed, her heart beat a little faster. Maybe it was just the darkness that was making her so afraid.

  Now that she was more awake, she could find her way to the light switch in the dark. She took several steps on the carpet, holding her hand out in front of her. She stepped carefully over the
objects on the floor. Her hand found the wall and then the light switch.

  Just as the room lit up, she saw that her night-light had been pulled out of the outlet. Before what that meant could even register in her brain, a hand went over her mouth.

  The person who had grabbed her was a woman. A very strong woman. Darcy felt herself being dragged backward. She twisted to try to free herself. She struggled with such force that she got away but fell on the floor on her stomach.

  She crawled on all fours to escape. Then flipped over. The woman stepped toward Darcy, her face red, teeth showing. Chloe.

  Chloe pulled a Taser out of her pocket.

  Darcy yelled out Jackson’s name twice. Chloe stalked toward her, weapon in hand.

  Darcy reached for the first object her hand could find—a boot, which she threw at the other woman. She hit her mark, smacking Chloe in the head, causing her to drop the Taser.

  Frantic, Darcy glanced around for another object to throw. She turned over and crawled toward the other boot, which she threw, hitting Chloe in the stomach. The distraction gave Darcy time to stand. She grabbed everything she could, hurling it all at her attacker: a curling iron, a hairbrush, makeup. Chloe held her hands up in a defensive posture. Darcy’s caught sight of the Taser on the floor, but there was no way she could get to it in time.

  Chloe’s eyes were filled with murderous rage as she lunged toward Darcy.

  Darcy jumped on the bed, thinking something must have happened to Jackson or he would have come by now. There was now only one way out of the bedroom. Chloe was closer to the door than Darcy was. She couldn’t get out that way without being caught. Maybe she could fling the window open and yell for help at least. She wouldn’t be able to get out because of the bars. She slid off the bed and reached for the latch.

  Chloe grabbed her from behind, yanking her pajama shirt back so hard that the collar dug into her neck. Darcy twisted, trying to break free. She kicked wildly, not making impact with anything.

  Chloe spun her around and grabbed her neck under the chin with one hand.

  Darcy choked and gasped for air as Chloe pressed on her windpipe. Black dots filled Darcy’s field of vision. Chloe used her free hand to pull a sheathed knife from her back pocket.

  Air. Darcy needed air. It would be easier for Chloe to kill her with the knife if she was unconscious and couldn’t fight back. Chloe’s original intent must have been to disable her with the Taser and then stab her.

  Chloe let go of Darcy to pull the sheath off the knife. Darcy gasped and sputtered. She bent over, wheezing in air. When she looked up, the knife blade caught the light.

  Fear enveloped her at the same time an instinct to survive kicked into high gear. She had to get away.

  Darcy took a step toward Chloe, intending to push her out of the way so she could get to the bedroom door. Chloe pointed the knife at her, causing her to freeze. Darcy reached for the hand that held the knife, but Chloe was faster and stronger.

  She knocked Darcy’s hand away and grabbed her throat again, squeezing as she backed her up to a wall. Though she could get some breath, Darcy was growing light-headed.

  Chloe raised the knife.

  Darcy clawed at the hand that held her neck at the same time that she angled her body with all the force she could muster.

  She felt a slice of pain on her upper arm and then the warm ooze of blood. She reached a hand out to push Chloe out of the way. The blade went into her stomach.

  This is not happening.

  The sound of Smokey’s barking seemed to come from very far away.

  A look of shock clouded Chloe’s expression. She turned and ran out of the room.

  Darcy looked down at the red drops of blood on her floor. She turned away, seeking to protect herself, pressing her hand against the expanding red circle on her stomach as she doubled over.

  Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint. She was losing consciousness.

  She was going down.

  Her head hit the corner of the dresser.

  As her world went black, a thought cascaded through her mind.

  I’m going to die here.

  FIFTEEN

  As Jackson regained consciousness, the first thing to register was that Smokey was barking and pacing around him, clearly upset that Jackson was lying on the floor, not moving. Fear seized his heart. Chloe must have knocked him unconscious to get to Darcy. He could only guess at what she had used to disable Smokey. He pushed himself to his feet, swaying as his head throbbed with pain. He hurried through the living room. He heard banging noises. And then silence. He pulled his weapon and stepped down the hallway seeing a very scared cat seek refuge in the other bedroom.

  A breeze from the open bathroom door caused him to peer inside. A window had been left open. The only window that didn’t have bars across it. That must have been how Chloe had gotten in, despite the lock.

  His primary concern was for Darcy. He ran to her bedroom, pulling his phone out. He dialed headquarters and advised Gavin of Chloe’s possible location.

  He pushed the door open. Darcy lay facedown on the floor, not moving. His breathing became shallow as he ran over to her. Kneeling, he turned her over. She was unresponsive. She had a bleeding gash on her forehead and her upper arm had been cut, but it was the stain of blood on her pajama shirt that made him gasp. The side of her neck pulsed. She was alive but unconscious and losing a lot of blood. He still had Gavin on the line. “Get an ambulance to Darcy’s address.”

  Smokey’s barking must have caused Chloe to flee before she’d had a chance to stab Darcy with the fatal blow. She must have been concerned about getting in and out quickly or she would have taken the time to kill him and Smokey, too. He saw the Taser on the floor—no doubt that had disabled Smokey long enough for Chloe to have hit Jackson on the back of the head.

  There were bruises on Darcy’s neck, consistent with someone trying to strangle her. The gash on her forehead suggested she had been hit by an object. The blow was probably what had knocked her out.

  “Come on, Darcy,” he said. He drew her closer to his chest and whispered in her ear. “Come back to me. I don’t want to lose you.”

  He heard the paramedics knocking on the locked front door. He ran to let them in.

  Within minutes, they had taken Darcy’s vitals and loaded her on a stretcher. She had not regained consciousness. Jackson stood back, feeling helpless as they wheeled her outside. He didn’t want to leave Smokey behind and the K-9 couldn’t ride in the ambulance. “I’ll catch a ride and follow you guys.”

  Several police units were now in the area searching for Chloe. Jackson chased down one of the officers and asked to use the patrol car. He secured Smokey in the passenger seat. Smokey whined and licked Jackson’s cheeks.

  “She’s in a real tough spot, Smokey.”

  Jackson pulled out onto the street. Focusing in on the flashing lights of the ambulance, he sped up. The ambulance remained several blocks ahead of him all the way to the emergency room. By the time he found a parking space, Darcy had been unloaded and was being transported into the ER. He got behind the stretcher and followed it into the exam area.

  A curtain was pulled around her. He watched as doctors and other medical staff entered her cubicle. He could hear their chatter and medical jargon.

  His heart squeezed tight. He stepped toward where the curtain was open a sliver.

  A nurse stepped up to him from inside the cubicle. “Sir, are you family?”

  “No, I’m a friend. A good friend.”

  “Why don’t you take a chair and we’ll let you know as soon as we can what the prognosis is for her. We need to stabilize her and get that cut in abdomen stitched up.”

  “I can’t sit still. I’ll check back in a few minutes.” He stepped outside into the chill September night. Jackson walked over to his loaner patrol car, opened the door and commanded Smo
key to jump down.

  He couldn’t shake off his nerves and worry over what was going to happen with Darcy. Seeing her so lifeless in that unconscious state had really shaken him. With Smokey next to him, he did a brisk walk that turned into a run. As his steps ate up distance over both sidewalk and grass, he prayed for Darcy’s recovery.

  She was part of his life now. A big part.

  In addition to how fun she was, the nice thing about Darcy was that she understood what it meant to be a police officer. The kiss they’d shared had been a little impulsive, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t liked kissing her. His feelings for her were such a tangled mess. In his heart, he knew that friendship was the kindest thing he could offer Darcy. If he was still on guard from the wounds of his last relationship, he wouldn’t be any good to her as a boyfriend. If there was to be anything between them, he had to know that he could give 100 percent. What did it matter anyway? She didn’t date cops.

  His run slowed to a walk. He’d gone completely around the hospital and his car was now in sight. He loaded Smokey back into the vehicle, put the air-conditioning on low and locked the car, again grateful for that feature because he didn’t know how long he’d be inside. He was just turning back toward the ER entrance when he noticed a hunched-over figure in baggy clothes disappear inside.

  Would Chloe be so bold as to show up here? It would be easy enough to conclude that Darcy had ended up in the hospital even if Chloe hadn’t hidden somewhere to watch what had happened.

  His heart beat a little faster and he sprinted across the parking lot to the ER entrance. When he stepped inside the brightly lit room, he saw no one in the waiting area who resembled the hooded figure.

  Jackson walked the aisles of the ER, past pulled curtains, a closed door where a man groaned in agony, and past another partially open door where he heard a child crying. He widened his search, stepping toward the elevators. He had nothing to go on but his gut instinct. The hooded figure reminded him of the watcher in the woods when he and Smokey had found Griffin Martel’s body.