by Debra Erfert
“I’m putting in an IV.” Edward hung up a plastic bag of clear liquid on a tall metal pole at the end of the gurney. “Your heart’s beating too fast. It looks like you’re going into shock.”
“My fingers hurt,” Candice whispered, closing her eyes and pushing the tears down her cheeks.
“I know,” Edward said. “But I need to get the IV started. Bill,” he said to his medic, “put Silvadene cream on her burns. Sergeant, you and the detective need to step out. And don’t forget to keep that oxygen up.” Then he turned up the gauge on her oxygen. That lightheaded feeling she was experiencing quickly passed when the extra gas hit her bloodstream, but it couldn’t stop the tears she shed, or the flames from destroying her home.
When the prick of a needle entered her skin, she had every reason to cry out loud. It hurt. “I’m sorry, Candice,” Edward apologized. She just turned her face away from him so he couldn’t see the coward that she’d become—and she cried harder.
~*~
“Candice? Are you awake?” Alex whispered.
Candice opened her eyes to the dimmed lights of her ER exam room to find Alex sitting in a chair next to her bed. She remembered being sedated, or at least the nurse said she was about to give her something to calm her down, and in the next instant, Alex woke her up. It felt like he was always waking her up.
“Yeah, I think so,” Candice whispered. “What time is it?” How long had he been here?
“It’s just after midnight,” he told her, standing up. He leaned over her and tenderly stroked her forehead with a touch lighter than a butterfly’s wing. “You look better,” he said in hushed tones.
“So do you,” she said. “And you sound better, too.”
“I was on oxygen for the better part of three hours, just on the other side of the curtain,” Alex said. “The doc told me I had mild smoke inhalation. Yours was worse.” He picked up her hand, taking care not to touch the two fingers that were bandaged. “You’ve been sleeping since we got here. I tried to talk with you several times but you wouldn’t answer me. I hoped you were sleeping and not still mad at me.”
“Oh, Alex, I’m not angry with you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I opened my big mouth and said too much.” Alex gently ran his fingers down her hair curling around her shoulders. Her up-do didn’t survive the ordeal.
“What? I should get mad that you can keep up with me?” she asked with a grin.
He touched her cheek near her mouth. “I love seeing this dimple when you smile.” He leaned over and kissed it before moving his attention to her dried, cracked lips.
“Do you know when I’m going to be released?” Candice asked after he finally lifted his lips from hers.
“I think as soon as you are awake,” he said. “I’ll go tell the doc and then I’ll take you to my folks’ place.” He turned to leave.
“No, Alex.” That stopped him fast.
“What do you mean, Candice? I don’t want you going to a hotel.”
“Alex, I want you to take me to Grandfather’s—to my home. I can move into the guesthouse. I’ll be safe there.” She could see him thinking about the large grounds and the security she’d ordered, and with the guards patrolling, who would be stupid enough to attempt anything there?
“Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t be any safer than if I was with you,” he finally agreed. “My mom will come over and change your bandages tomorrow, then. She wants to be the one to take care of your burns. She wants to take you to see her primary care physician, too, to make sure the ER doctor did everything right.”
It wouldn’t be a bad thing to have a retired intensive care unit nurse look after her. “That’s fine with me. I would appreciate it,” she said tiredly. “Did you see Liz anywhere?”
Alex came back inside and returned to his chair. “She found her way here around nine and stayed for a couple of hours, waiting for you to wake up. I’m surprised you didn’t hear her rapid-fire talking. I finally sent her home. She said she’ll call you in the morning.”
Call her? “I lost my phone,” she mumbled.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I was calling the fire department when I unlocked the deadbolt. I guess the deadbolt’s throw was the only thing keeping the door closed. I don’t remember exactly when I dropped it.” When he held out her phone, she started to cry again. He had to have stayed inside longer to find her phone. Dangerous seconds that might have taken his life. She could’ve lost him.
“Candice?” He shoved his arms under her back and embraced her. “Please don’t cry anymore, not because of me,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m sorry I went back inside to get your things, and I promise if you stop crying, I won’t ever go back inside a burning building to just get things ever again. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, taking in a blessedly painless breath, and then another. “Okay . . . okay.” She felt every fiber in her body begin to relax. She knew he meant it. “Please go tell the doctor I’m ready to go home.”
Before he left, he tenderly wiped the tears from her face with a slow sweep of his fingers. It was such a gentle action, she fell deeper in love with him. Now if only she could admit it to him—and to herself.
Chapter 17
CANDICE WATCHED THE streetlights slowly wash over Alex’s work SUV as they drove back to the police department to get his personal truck, and she noticed they were going very near Joslyn Smith’s house. The timing was right for another appearance from her stalker, Devin Metz.
“Alex, what would you say if I asked to park down a nice dark street for a while?”
Alex looked at her with a hopeful grin. “This truck stands out a little too much for the privacy we’d need.” He touched the center console. “This would get in the way.”
It took Candice a couple of beats to understand what he was saying. She laughed. “Alexander Delaney! What do you think I was wanting to do, exactly?”
His dimples dug deeper into his cheeks. “Kiss me in the dark? Hold me? Cuddle?”
Candice whispered, “I can think of a lot better places for that than your duty vehicle.”
“Me, too,” he said quietly.
She shook that thought out of her head. “Actually, I was hoping we could stake out my client’s house for a bit.”
He glanced at her. “Your stalker case? Do you think he’d show up again so soon?”
“Maybe. I plan on watching for him every night until I catch him. I missed last night.”
“I suppose we could. But wouldn’t you rather go home and take a shower?”
Candice sniffed the ends of her hair. “I do stink like a campfire.”
“Campfires do not stink. I’ll have to take you camping, then you’d know there was more than burning wood involved with your apartment fire. Paint fumes, to name one.” He sniffed his shirtsleeve. “I’m pretty stinky, too. I guess we cancel each other out.”
It took another twenty minutes before Alex turned into Joslyn’s subdivision.
“Pull over here,” Candice said, pointing to the right.
“But we’re two blocks away.”
“I want to walk in from here so Metz will have less of a chance to see your truck. And since you’re with me, we can catch his butt instead of capturing his profile on a worthless video.”
Alex pulled over to the curb and killed the engine. “So your client couldn’t confirm that it was Metz?”
Candice sighed. “No. I sent the picture to Joslyn’s phone this afternoon, or, rather, yesterday afternoon, but she wasn’t sure it was him, and until she is sure, we can’t get him arrested for threats.”
“Does she have a restrainer order?”
“It was a temporary. Ninety days lapsed last week.” Candice picked up her backpack from the floor and set it on her lap. “Technically, he hasn’t done anything to her.”
“Do you have a sweater or a thicker jacket in your pack?” Alex said, reaching into the backseat.
Candice glanced at her inappropriate surv
eillance attire. While she would rather be wearing black jeans and a turtleneck, her suit was dark enough not to stand out in the darkness. She didn’t think the little bit of pink shirt ruffling at her neck would give her away. She hoped.
“Here, you can wear my PD hoodie sweatshirt,” Alex said, passing her the sweater.
Candice lifted it to her nose and inhaled. “It smells much better than we do at the moment.”
Alex chuckled. “Let’s get going.”
Candice got out and met him at the front bumper, lifting her backpack over her good shoulder with her good hand.
“How’re your burns doing?” Alex carefully grasped the hand that had her fingers bandaged.
Candice tugged him forward. “They aren’t bad. I probably won’t need to have your mom rewrap them tomorrow. The ER doc was being overly cautious.”
“The doc said a week. Give it time to heal, sweetheart.”
As they walked, Candice kept looking around for any signs of Metz, in case he’d changed his route. But she also looked for smoke drifting through the streetlights. The neighborhood was quiet. Most of the porch lights were out, making the sidewalks dark enough to keep them hidden, and while Alex’s athletic-type shoes were silent when he walked, Candice still had her boots on. While comfortable, each step produced a slight tapping noise.
“Metz didn’t use a flashlight the other night, so I’m fairly sure he won’t bring one the next time he tries leaving another disgusting threat under her doormat.”
“If he tries again,” Alex said in a whisper, “you’ll chase him again. You might even call him another childish name.”
“You heard that?” Candice asked in surprise.
Alex chuckled softly. “You called Devin Metz a toad.
Candice had forgotten she yelled it.
“Hold it!” Alex said. He let go of her hand and took hold of her elbow while taking her off the sidewalk to behind a low wall that divided two properties. “I saw something,” he whispered.
Candice knelt next to Alex and looked over the wall. While no light touched them, a streetlight caught a single man dressed in dark clothing rushing across the street. “He has a knit cap,” she whispered only loud enough for Alex to hear.
Alex motioned with a nod of his head. “He’s headed to the neighbor’s house.”
“I wouldn’t expect him to just walk straight up to Joslyn’s.” Candice shifted her backpack to the grass in front of her and unzipped the main compartment. She needed her camera with the night vision setting. By the time she had it turned on and aimed toward Joslyn’s house, she didn’t see the man.
“Where is he?” Candice asked, keeping her voice low, but she couldn’t hide her irritation at losing sight of a man who had been torturing her client—her friend.
“We went up between the two houses, but I couldn’t tell which side of the property wall he was on.”
Candice nodded. “Let’s get closer—catch him coming from the side with the note in his grubby little hands.” If they were going to capture Metz, and she was assuming it was Devin Metz, she didn’t need to take his picture. After she had the camera safely returned to her backpack, she picked up her pack and sprinted around the low wall and headed to Joslyn’s house without checking to see if Alex had followed.
She ran to the low wall dividing Joslyn’s house from the neighboring yard, using it as a shield. The shadows were deep enough for Metz to hide. Once again, Candice took out her camera and looked around, using the night vision. While things appeared in a strange green color, she could see everything—except Metz.
“Blast! The toad’s not—” Candice’s terse whisper was cut off when the sound of glass breaking shattered the silence. “He’s going inside!”
Alex still wore his smoky uniform, including a portable radio—and a gun. “Dispatch—Sam Seven. I need backup.” He then told her the address while Candice jumped the short wall and headed down the side yard.
The block wall dividing the backyard from the front was a good six feet tall. She leapt and lifted herself high enough to swing her leg over the top then rolled over the wall. She landed on her feet. After she shrugged her pack higher onto her shoulder, Candice rushed around to the back of the house, searching for the window that had been broken. But it hadn’t been a window. The glass sliding door lay in crumbled bits, inside and outside the doorway. It took a lot of strength, or hatred, to demolish the thick glass.
“Sam Seven—dispatch. Step up the responding units. The intruder is inside,” Alex requested quietly.
Candice didn’t want to wait, but Alex had gripped her elbow, stopping her from entering—until a woman’s scream echoed through the door.
“Joslyn!” Candice yanked away from Alex’s restraint and charged through the shredded curtains, into the dark living room. A glow coming from the hallway gave her enough light to rush to Joslyn’s bedroom. The hall bathroom light was on. Another terrified scream cut through the air before Candice reached her friend. She hit on the light switch and found Joslyn on her knees on the far side of her bed, holding a shredded pillow out in front of her while the toad Devin Metz was trying to extract a knife deeply embedded in her mattress. Candice couldn’t let him get another try at killing her client.
She slid her backpack off her shoulder and into her hand then stepped into a swing, smashing it into the toad’s face just as he freed the big knife. The momentum of her heavy pack bashed him backward into the nightstand, knocking over a table lamp before he landed on the floor. She shook the pain out of her fingers when the strap pressed against her bandages.
In the next instant, Alex grabbed Metz’s wrist, making him lose hold of the knife, and flipped him over onto his stomach. The sirens grew louder until they chirped off.
“Candice, go open the front door!” Alex ordered while he kept a tight hold on the man, a man who started struggling against his hold.
“Joslyn!” Candice shouted, shaking the pain out of her injured hand. “Go open the front door. Now!” She dug into her backpack once more, taking out a Taser she bought online. While Alex kept a strong hold on his arms, she aimed at the toad’s side and pulled the trigger, shooting out two prongs into his skin, through his dark sweater. The high voltage sizzled along the wires, sending Devin’s body into a temporary convulsion. But more than that, it took the fight out of the toad. Gil Roscoe called getting zapped with fifty thousand volts a major attitude adjustment. And it worked! Alex had his handcuffs on a more cooperative man seconds later.
Still leaning against Metz’s back with a stiff arm, Alex squeezed the mic clipped to his shirt. “I have one in custody. Send rescue for the suspect.” Alex looked up at Candice with a scowl on his face. “Where did you get a Taser?” He was breathing hard and fast.
Candice disconnected the thin metal wires from her little gun. “From the home security superstore, of course,” she told him.
Alex softened his expression and chuckled. “You’re writing a supplemental.”
Three additional patrol officers marched into the bedroom with their guns extended, although they quickly holstered them as Alex turned Metz over and sat him up. It was amazing how docile a surge of electricity could make a scumbag.
“Sergeant Delaney. I thought you were off duty,” one of the officers said with a laugh in his voice.
“And survived an apartment fire,” another one remarked while helping the toad to his feet.
“I am, and we did, Glen,” Alex said, letting him take control of his prisoner.
Another siren chirped off outside.
Candice grinned at the toad. “Gotcha, Devin.” He hung his head as he walked by her, not making eye contact, or even uttering a sound.
~*~
“Sweetheart, wake up.” He felt her jerk. She must’ve been in a deep sleep.
“Why is it, Alex,” Candice asked as she lifted her head off his shoulder, “that it seems like you are always waking me up?”
Alex had just turned onto the long drive of her grandfather’s—of
her home. Now she had him calling it her grandfather’s home instead of hers. She’d inherited the big house when she was seventeen, although she moved into the apartment shortly after he’d died. She told him even with the housekeepers and groundskeeper, the place was terrifyingly huge and monstrously lonely for someone as young as she. Alex couldn’t blame her for feeling that way.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said softly. He pulled to a stop in front of a temporary blockade manned by a young man in uniform. Alex had swapped his sergeant’s vehicle for his personal truck before he brought Candice home, but he still had on his stinky, smoke-infused uniform as he leaned out his window.
“Hi, I’m Sergeant Delaney and this is Candice Shane, your employer. Take a good look at her and remember what she looks like,” he said, turning on the truck’s interior lights to illuminate Candice better. She smiled at him, as the young man studied her, bandaged hand and all. “She’s moving into the guest house. I want you to watch out for her.”
“Yes, Sergeant Delaney. Mrs. Leavitt told us what happened with her apartment fire. We didn’t know she was coming here, but we’ll make sure nothing happens to her.” He looked at Candice and said, “You can sleep securely tonight, Ms. Shane.”
“Thank you . . .”
“My name is Sherman Greenwood, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Sherman,” Candice said to the eager guard.
“I’ll let my partner know that you’re on the estate,” Greenwood said, taking out his radio from the holster on his hip as he moved to the barricade, removing it from their path.
“How did Meagan know about the fire?” Candice asked quietly as they drove by the young guard.
