by Curry, Edna
“We should be able to go around it.”
Hank pulled onto the bridge and came to a stop behind a pickup truck. An officer was talking to the driver.
“Like hell it’s an accident,” Hank said. “It’s a damn road block! Hang on.” He started to back up, obviously trying to turn around and get back off the bridge. Sirens blared behind them and several more police cars pulled up behind them and blocked them in.
“Damn cops!” Hank braked, pulled his gun and fired at the cars behind them with one hand as he tried to maneuver the car with his other.
The police fired back almost immediately. Bullets hit metal and their tires and Loni screamed as she felt the car sway. Hank finally stopped again.
They were trapped between the concrete sides of the bridge and the police cars.
“Come on. We’re getting out,” Hank said, opening the door and yanking on her arm to pull her out with him.
“We’ll be killed,” Loni cried frantically. “Give up.”
“Never,” Hank said and yanked her in front of him as he headed for the side of the bridge. He gripped her arm painfully as she tried to resist him.
She couldn’t think. What was he trying to do? There was nowhere to go. It was almost dark and she could hardly see where they were. Headlights and a streetlight at the other end of the bridge barely illuminated the scene. A spotlight suddenly flashed on them from one of the police cars making Loni flinch and scream, “Don’t shoot!”
An officer’s voice echoed hers, yelling, “Hold your fire, he’s got a hostage.”
Hank dragged her with him as he moved toward the concrete side of the bridge. He turned to fire at the police again, but they had ducked behind their car doors.
Was the crazy nut going to jump into the river? Trees lined the river here and she could see their tall tops in front of them.
Loni knew they wouldn’t shoot at Hank for fear of hitting her. She had to do something to help.
She pretended to faint and went limp, dropping to the ground. Pain shot through her arm as he yanked on it, trying to hold her upright.
“Son of a bitch!” Hank bent down and grabbed her other arm and pulled at her, trying to get her back on her feet. He only succeeded in dragging her along the road a few inches. Then he gave up and let go of her.
Loni hunched down on the concrete, but looked up as she heard him run away. As she saw him climb onto the side of the bridge, she yelled, “Hank, no! Don’t jump!”
He ignored her and leapt over the side of the bridge.
She could hear various voices shouting, “The crazy fool!”
“He went over the side.”
“God, it’s a hundred feet down there!”
“Go around the end of the bridge and down the bank after him,” an officer yelled.
Someone helped Loni up and asked, “Are you all right?”
She nodded numbly, rubbing the painful muscles of her arms.
Then Matt was there, enfolding her in his arms. “It’s okay, Honey. You’re safe now.”
He led her back to Tom’s police car. They climbed into the back seat and Matt wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.
“You’re shaking,” he said.
“He jumped over the side of the bridge, Matt! Can you believe it? It’s a long way down there and nothing but rocks below where he jumped.” She shuddered.
“I know,” Matt said, hugging her close. “But he’s not from this area, so he didn’t know that. I suppose he saw the tops of those trees and thought it was only a few feet down to the ground there, so he could get away into the woods.”
“It’s awful.”
“I know, Honey. But it’s over now. The officers have gone after him. They’ll get him.”
The scream of an ambulance siren rent the air. An officer waved it over to park on the other side of the bridge, closest to the bank so they’d have access below the bridge. Other officers moved the cars making the roadblock and began directing traffic.
* * * *
Soon, Deputy Tom came back to his car and drove them back to the sheriff’s office.
Ben had left the library murder scene in the forensics team’s hands to deal with the new emergency himself. He told them Hank had died in the fall and they’d recovered his body.
Along with Deputy Tom, they answered questions for what seemed like hours, until Ben was satisfied that they’d dealt with all the paperwork he needed for now. Tom hurried off to finish his shift.
“By the way,” Ben said. “Jim Saunders told me he knew something was wrong because he got an e-mail from his mother that she’d sent just before the library’s closing time. Mrs. Saunders described a scary stranger who was in the library, using the computer and hanging around. She described Hank to a T, so we’re pretty sure he’s the one who killed her.”
Loni paled. “Oh, no. I can’t believe I misjudged the man so much. I’d never have imagined he’d use a gun. When I dated him, he seemed like a harmless computer geek. I thought he was quite nice.”
“Yeah, he was a real nice guy, all right,” Ben said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “But don’t feel bad about misjudging him. Lots of perps don’t fit the public’s idea of a criminal. They come in all sizes and styles.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Loni shivered, crossing her arms in front to hug herself.
“We should be able to wrap up that case soon, too. We’re hoping to get fingerprints off the computer he used at the library.”
The phone rang and Ben picked it up. He talked for a minute then hung up, rubbing the side of his nose and making a face. “I hate to tell you this, guys.”
Matt sat up abruptly. “What now, Ben?”
“That was Joe Jennings from the Chicago PD. I sent him Hank’s fingerprints to compare to ones he had on file for some cases we talked about before. They matched, so he and an FBI agent are very interested in Hank. They think he’s the serial killer they’ve been looking for.”
Loni gasped. “A serial killer? Oh my God!”
Ben nodded. “The murders of at least three young blonde women match his profile. They searched his apartment in Minneapolis and found souvenir locks of hair. They’ve sent the hair to their lab to compare DNA with the murder victims.”
Matt put his arm around Loni, who had turned pale again and was shaking her head in disbelief. She stared at them numbly, and repeated, “Hank? A serial killer!”
Ben eyed Loni kindly. “He’s dead, Loni. It’s over. Matt, I suggest you take Loni home now. Take good care of her, she’s had a shock and looks like she could use some sleep.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks, Ben.” Matt rose and helped Loni to her feet.
The street dance was still under way and people were talking about the murder of the librarian and the police incident at the bridge in little groups on the street.
Not feeling up to any more socializing, they got in Matt’s car and headed for his house.
“I suppose there’s really no reason to stay with you now,” Loni said tentatively.
He glanced at her. “I don’t think you’re ready to be alone tonight. I’d like you to stay with me.”
“Thanks,” she said, giving him a weary smile. “You’re right, I don’t feel so hot.”
At his house, Matt fixed them hot soup and toast with tea.
The phone rang and she flinched, then gave a little laugh. “It can’t be him now, can it?”
“No, Darling, it can’t. He’s dead. You’re safe now.”
He answered the phone and said, “Hi, Mom. What’s up?”
“Are you and Loni okay?”
“Yes, Mom, we’re both fine.”
“Good. I want to know what happened,” she said. “The crisis is over, isn’t it?”
He laughed. “Yes, it is. Did you have another of your psychic experiences?”
Her voice sharpened. “Don’t make fun of your mother. I was very worried.”
Matt’s voice softened. “I’m not making fun of you, Mom. I apprec
iate your concern. You’re right; it was a very scary evening.”
He proceeded to give her a thumbnail version of their evening and promised to get down to Florida to see her soon. Then she insisted on talking to Loni. “I need to hear her voice, to know she’s really okay,” his mother said.
Loni talked to her and when she hung up, she smiled at Matt. “She seems very nice. You’re lucky to have such a loving family.”
“Aren’t yours?”
She shrugged. “Yes, but not so close that they know what’s going on without being told.”
He grinned. “Luckily, that only happens when danger is involved, not all the time. There are some things better left private.”
She laughed. “I suppose you’re right about that.”
“Come on, I’m ready to hit the sack.”
They snuggled in his bed. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asked. “You’re still as tense as can be.”
“I think so. I just can’t get the sight of him going over the bridge out of my mind.”
She shivered and snuggled closer. “Hold me, Matt. I never want to live through something like that again.”
“Me neither. I was so scared he’d hurt you or worse. It made me realize how much I love you. You know I do, don’t you, Loni?”
She nodded. “I love you, too, Matt. Love me. Make me forget.”
He slid a hand along her thigh. “I’ll be happy to. You have such silky skin, Loni. I can never get enough of touching you or making love to you.”
He began kissing her and soon she’d forgotten everything except how good they were together. Kisses led to much more and their hands and mouths began exploring until at last he plunged inside her.
She rode the wave of sensations up to the heights, until stars exploded behind her eyelids and she felt his own release pulse within her.
Later, when they’d returned to earth, she said, “I suppose I should be going back to my own house tomorrow.”
He rose on one elbow to look into her eyes. “I’d rather you didn’t. Stay here with me.”
She shuddered. “I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable in that house again, but really, Matt, I can’t stay here with you. What would people say?”
“Who cares? Marry me, and they won’t say anything, except maybe congratulations.”
Loni gasped in surprise, then asked cautiously, “Matt, are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I was never more sure of anything, Darling. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Matt.”
“So, will you marry me?”
“Yes, I will marry you.”
“All right!” he whooped and kissed her again.
The end.
***
If you enjoyed this story, I’d very much appreciate it if you’d take a few minutes to leave a review on Amazon. Link: http://amzn.to/1NADOXb
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About the author:
Edna Curry lives in Minnesota and often sets her novels there among the lakes, evergreens and river valleys. She especially enjoys the Dalles area of the St. Croix Valley, gateway to the Wild River, which draws many tourists who give her story ideas. Besides non-fiction articles, she writes mystery, romance and romantic suspense novels.
Edna is married and is a member of the Romance Writers of America and two of its chapters: Kiss Of Death and Northern Lights Writers.
Circle of Shadows (half of Deadly Duos #1) was a finalist in RWA's prestigious Golden Heart Contest.
Visit her webpage at http://www.ednacurry.com
Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/Edna.Curry.author
Twitter: Edna_Curry
Blog:
http://ednacurry.blogspot.com/
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Recent or upcoming books by Edna Curry:
My Sister’s Keeper
Best Friends
Lost Memories
Mirror Image
Hard Hat Man
Double Trouble
Flight to Love
Circle of Shadows
Traveling Bug
Secret Daddy
Never Love a Logger
I’ll Always Find You
Meet Me, Darling Melange Books
Wrong Memories
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Short stories:
5 Children’s Stories
7 Short Stories
Non-fiction:
The Jam of all Jams
The story of the world’s largest logjam ever.
Lady Locksmith Series:
The Lilliput Bar Mystery -- Book 1
Body in the Antique Trunk -- Book 2
Coming Soon: The Missing Banker -- Book 3
Lacey Summers’ PI Mystery Series:
Yesterday’s Shadow -- Book 1
Dead Man’s Image -- Book 2
Dead in Bed -- Book 3
Eccentric Lady -- Book 4
***
Lin
Links to Edna Curry:
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1NADOXb
Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/search?Query=Edna+Curry
Ibooks:
B& N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/%22Edna%20Curry%22?Ns=P_Sales_Rank&Ntk=P_key_Contributor_List&Ntx=mode%20matchall
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/bookworm777
Exerpt from Wrong Memories:
Wrong Memories
by Edna Curry
Copyright 2015 by Edna Curry
________________________________________
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
This is a work of fiction. All events and names in this story are fictitious and any resemblance to any event or any person living or dead is purely coincidental.
No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without written permission of the author, except for short excerpts for reviews.
Credit:
Cover by Bev Haynes
Chapter 1
Wednesday, March 4, 2015, Grand Bahama Island
Wealthy young playboy, Roscoe Mattison sat on the beach on Grand Bahama Island, furious with his fiancé, Lucille Denton, and with himself.
He’d overstepped his own rules. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t ever do that again. He knew better now, he’d told himself. Violence wasn’t his style. It was messy and his last girlfriend hadn’t put up with it, and neither had Lucille. He’d only hit her a couple of times, but he should have known she was too smart to take it without fighting back. She’d screamed, but she hadn’t even fought back, just sat there on the floor and looked at him with that appalled stare.
He’d walked out, then, but he should have stayed and kept a close eye on her. She’d waited until he was down in the bar drinking with a friend, then she’d left.
He’d figured that out when he got back to his room hours later.
And she’d taken all those traveler’s checks she’d bought for them both to use on this supposed two week sun-filled vacation. He’d planned to enjoy sex many times in those two weeks. Ha. Two days, is all he’d gotten out of her. That he’d hit her was her fault, though. She’d made him so mad with her lousy excuses. ‘Too tired.’ ‘Hungry, let’s go eat first.’ ‘I have a headache from too much wine.’ Now she’d escaped and he had a problem. He couldn’t let her get away with it. She might even tell the newspapers he’d abused her, or press charges against him when he got home. His family was very important in Minneapolis. He couldn’t let her spoil that for him.
He called Buddy, a guy he knew and could trust, who took care of situations like this and told him to take care of her for him. He told him what flight she’d taken back to Minneapolis; he’d gotten that info from the airport.
“You’ve met her at parties at my dad’s place. You remember what she looks like, don’t you?”
“Yes, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll meet her plane and follow her. You know I always make it look like an accident.”
“Good. I’ll pay
you the usual way.” He hung up and went online and transferred the agreed upon amount of cash to another overseas account, then transferred it again to Buddy’s account.
Then he went back to the bar for another drink. She’d pay for leaving him, just like the last gal had. No one left a Mattison man without consequences. No one said no to him.
He’d stay here, of course, to make sure he had an alibi, just in case they tried to connect her accident to him. The hotel and his credit card purchases would verify that he’d been here. Then he moved to his beach chair to sun himself, drink in hand. He stared out at the ocean waves rolling in gently and breaking on the sand.
A tall, willowy blonde in a skimpy red bikini walked by. She eyed him and smiled invitingly. He rose and walked with her, smiling and chatting. Soon they moved to the bar and he bought her a drink. She chatted happily and snuggled close to him, a hand rubbing his thigh suggestively. He smiled back. A couple more drinks and maybe dinner, then he’d invite her up to his room. No sense spending the time alone just because one bitch had run out on him. Perhaps this vacation had possibilities after all, he thought.
***
Tuesday, March 10, 2015, St. Paul, Minnesota.
Pain echoed through Lucy’s head as she awoke. When she tried to sit up, everything whirled around her. Where was she? In a bed of sorts, an IV in her arm. A hospital, then?
A swish of uniform beside her caused her to look that way. A middle aged black lady was adjusting the controls on her IV bottle. Her name tag said ‘Anna.’
She smiled at her. “Ah, you’re awake. I’m Anna, your nurse today. How are you feeling?”
