Desire Unleashed

by Layne Macadam

  “By the way, I’m Olive Green.”

  Kathy gaped at her wide-eyed and blinked.

  “I know,” Olive replied. “I get that same reaction from everyone. My maiden name was West, but I fell in love and married Sam Green fifty years ago and I’ve been a Green ever since.”

  Kathy introduced herself, and Olive patted her leg accompanied by a calming smile.

  “Try not to worry dear, I know that’s easier said than done, but try all the same, worrying won’t change a darn thing and will only give you wrinkles.”

  Kathy managed a weak smile as she dialed Shane’s number but was disappointed when it went straight to message bank. “Shane, it’s Kathy… I’ve been attacked by a horrible man who tried to force me into his van. Olive Green is taking me to the local precinct… I guess I’ll talk to you later.” She was rambling but couldn’t help it. She ended the call with a sniff.

  “Don’t fret love, I’ll stay with you until your boyfriend arrives,” Olive assured her. She then explained how she’d just dropped her grandchildren home to her daughter who lived at the end of the road, and was on her way back down the hill when she noticed Kathy, struggling with the man on the sidewalk. At her age, Olive said, she’d be no match for him, so did the only thing she could think of, which evidently was enough, as it allowed Kathy to break free.

  *

  Olive brought the SUV to an abrupt halt in front of the precinct. It was now well after six and getting darker by the minute. The cloud cover had thickened, and the faint rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance. Olive flung open the door and bounced out, remarkably spry for an older lady. She flicked the remote, and the vehicle responded with a sharp beep and a flash of lights as the automatic locks engaged. Olive grasped her by the arm and propelled her up the steps and into the building.

  It was relatively quiet at that time of evening, and the reception area was empty. The desk sergeant who was having an animated telephone discussion looked up as they approached the counter. Kathy’s battered face told its own story, and he indicated with his hand for them to take a seat.

  Sergeant Samuels returned the phone to its cradle. “What can I do for you ladies?” His polite enquiry was laced with concern.

  “Good evening officer, I’m Olive Green and this young lady who was attacked on the street less than half an hour ago, is Kathy Bellamy. Lucky for her that I happened along when I did, or he’d have forced her into his van and the devil knows what he’d have done to her then.”

  “Did you know the assailant ma’am?”

  “No Sergeant, but I got a good look at him.”

  “And I memorized the license plates, and that sucker was writhing on the ground clutching the family jewels after Kathy kneed him in the nuts.” Olive added for good measure.

  The sergeant looked a touch nonplussed, and Kathy couldn’t believe her ears. Olive was certainly a live one. Oddly enough, her mother’s words came back to her loud and clear. “Humor can be found in any situation if you look hard enough.” Olive certainly provided it tonight.

  “I’m sorry but I’m going to have to sit down I’m feeling a bit faint,” Kathy announced, retreating to the bench by the wall.

  The sergeant kindly brought her water from the nearby dispenser. “Here drink this,” he said, handing her the tumbler then disappeared only to return a short time later with a tall sandy-haired man in a charcoal suit.

  “This is Detective Jesse McKenzie.” The desk sergeant made the appropriate introduction.

  Kathy extended her hand and the detective shook it professionally. He appeared to be around thirty-eight and would have been a handsome man except for the nasty scar that ran down his left cheek and disappeared into the collar of his shirt. It was a vicious scar that made him look like a thug, someone you wouldn’t want to meet in a dark alley.

  “If you two ladies would like to follow me into an interview room, I’ll take your statements.”

  Kathy and Olive were about to stand and follow the detective when the front doors burst open.

  * * * *

  Ice left the building and strode across the asphalt toward the base parking lot. He’d just come from a meeting and knew from the preliminary discussions it was only a matter of time before he was officially offered the position of trainer on a permanent basis.

  He’d been lucky throughout his career, in as much as he hadn’t sustained any serious injuries, which in his line of work was a real possibility. Down the track, the offer would have been tempting, but he thrived on field work and figured he hadn’t quite reached his use by date yet.

  With a flick of his wrist he glanced at his watch, it was almost six-thirty, and he was running late. Kathy was expecting him to cook dinner, but it had been a long day, so he thought he’d pick up some take out instead. Tossing his briefcase on the passenger seat, he took out his phone to give her a call. The phone showed two missed calls so he checked those first. One was from his carrier offering an updated plan. The second one sent him into a tailspin. It was from Kathy.

  Slamming the car into gear, Ice tore out of the parking lot as if the hounds of hell were after him. He had to get to her fast. Thank the Lord there was little traffic and the lights were in his favor. As he powered down the road, he kept rehashing the conversation he’d had earlier in the week with Wolf.

  True to his word, Wolf had wasted no time in tracking down the florist. Ice even knew the shop. It was situated next to the real estate office where Kathy paid rent. Wolf had used his charm and Hollywood smile to sweet talk the shop assistant into revealing that the order had been made over the phone. The young florist remembered the details all too well because when she’d written the messages on the cards the caller refused to give his name, so she’d christened him Romeo. It was such an unusual request, Romeo claimed he didn’t have a credit card, that in itself was weird because who doesn’t have one in this day and age? When Wolf asked how he’d paid, she’d said he put the money in an envelope and slipped it under the door. He couldn’t come during business hours as he worked the night shift and slept through the day, so there was no physical evidence to link Kathy’s flowers to anyone.

  Ice reached the precinct in record time. It had started to bucket down as the vehicle skidded to a halt behind an SUV, but he didn’t notice the rain as he leaped from the car in one fluid movement and raced up the stairs.

  Barreling through the double doors, he scanned the reception area for Kathy. Their gazes locked across the room, his settled on her swollen mouth, and coldly furious, his eyes hooded over. Kathy caught his look, and her bottom lip trembled. He reached her in three strides and gathered her into his arms as she started to unravel.

  “Shh babe, I’m here,” he reassured, kissing her forehead and comforting her with smooth gentle strokes of her back. He could feel her shaking either with nerves or the cold, he suspected a bit of both. She was still dressed in her tank top and shorts, and the temperature in here was cool.

  “It was awful, Shane. He grabbed me from behind and tried to drag me into his van, if Olive hadn’t come along when she did…” Her voice trailed away on a sob.

  Ice eyed the only other civilian occupant in the room over Kathy’s shoulder.

  “It was a near thing,” the woman informed him.

  “I’m in your debt ma’am.”

  “Well sonny, if I was ten years younger, I’d exact payment.” Olive cackled.

  Kathy lifted her head and smiled. “Olive you are outrageous.”

  “Me outrageous? You should’ve seen me in my heyday. But honey, I’ve got nothing on you. When you gave that SOB the genital cuff, it was something to behold.”

  Ice found himself grinning. She was an eccentric tough old broad with a good heart, and he for one was grateful she’d been there when Kat needed her.

  The detective snared his gaze and rolled his eyes at Olive’s playfulness. “Detective Jesse McKenzie,” he said, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “I’ll be handling this case.”

 
; “Shane Jackson,” Ice responded with equal pressure, summing McKenzie up as he did. He was a mean-looking mother, the type that wouldn’t take shit from anyone, and that suited him fine ‘cause he wasn’t about to take any shit either. He was already royally pissed that Kat was shivering unnecessarily.

  “Let’s move to an interviewing room so I can take the ladies’ statements. The sooner we do this the sooner you can all go home.”

  Detective McKenzie wheeled around to lead the way but stopped dead in his tracks as Ice rumbled. “How about getting Kathy a blanket before we start, in case you haven’t noticed Detective, she’s shivering.”

  *

  The SEAL’s criticism was not lost on McKenzie. He didn’t speak, just rolled his shoulders and gave an indiscernible nod to the desk sergeant. He disappeared then returned a minute later with a gray woolen blanket for Kathy, who accepted it with a grateful smile.

  McKenzie had noticed the distinctive trident pin on Jackson’s shirt denoting that he was a SEAL the minute he’d barged through the front doors. He’d prayed then that Jackson wasn’t the boyfriend, but as usual, God wasn’t listening, and he’d inwardly groaned. He’d dealt with these types before, and they were arrogant sons of bitches.

  “Just follow me and we can get started,” he stated in as calm a voice as he could muster.

  The interview room was a ten-by-ten square nondescript office painted a dull gray with dark blue carpet. A fluorescent strip light shone overhead and a narrow window streaked with rain overlooked the street. A large oak desk holding a PC and printer dominated the tiny room.

  Jesse eased himself into the black leather swivel chair facing the computer while the others filed in and took seats opposite.

  “If no one has any objections we’ll start with you Mrs. Green, it shouldn’t take long and then you can go home.”

  Detective McKenzie prided himself on his efficiency. Olive’s statement was printed and signed within the hour, and she was ready to go. Before leaving, she handed Kathy a slip of paper.

  “My phone number, just in case you want to talk dear.”

  Up till that moment, Kathy had been very quiet huddled in the blanket, but at Olive’s words, she reached out and took the paper from her. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said, giving the older woman’s hand a pat. “I’ll be in touch in a day or so.”

  Olive squeezed Kathy’s hand and turned to Jackson. “Take good care of her.” She winked.

  “You can depend on it.” He winked back at her as she left the office.

  Jesse turned to Kathy for her statement. “Now, tell me exactly what happened in your own words. Take it slow, and don’t leave anything out no matter how insignificant or trivial you think it might be.”

  As Kathy relayed the incident, Jesse was impressed with her detailed descriptions, but when she described how she’d clawed her assailant’s forearm, he turned her hands over and examined her fingers.

  “We need to get samples to the lab for DNA analyses,” he explained. Taking a set of tweezers from the drawer, he removed the telltale traces of skin from under her nails and placed them in a zip lock evidence bag.

  “There’s more you should know.”

  “What’s that?” he addressed the SEAL.

  Jackson described in chronological order the events of the last month. Kathy’s new unlisted phone number and the flowers she’d received anonymously with their cryptic messages. He listened with interest and agreed that it was too much of a coincidence and more than likely, the three things were connected. Jackson also mentioned an old flame Kathy had seen near the florist only last week.

  “Ian wasn’t the one who grabbed me.” Kathy, who had been sitting like a statue, piped up.

  Both men turned toward her.

  “We can’t rule anyone out at this stage. Roberts will have to be questioned by one of our officers.”

  Kathy’s shoulders drooped and she looked exhausted. The last few traumatic hours had taken its toll. He’d taken her statement and figured nothing was going to be gained by rehashing the events again tonight so gave Jackson the nod.

  “If you’re done then Detective, I’ll take Kathy home.” Jackson stood, having got the unspoken message and helped Kathy to her feet.

  “You’ve still got the mug shots to go through, you can do that tomorrow though when you bring in the florist cards, but if anything else unusual happens call me right away.” Jesse handed his business card to Kathy as he walked them outside. The rain had stopped but dampness hung in the air like a fog. Kathy shivered as she peeled off the blanket. “Keep it till tomorrow,” he told her.

  Jackson opened the passenger door and handed her in. After shutting it tight, he turned to him and got straight to the point. “Listen Detective, I don’t like this, I’ve got a real bad feeling.”

  Jesse had the same gut feeling. This was no ordinary abduction attempt. When you added the phone calls, the flowers, and the cards into the mix, it had all the earmarks of a stalker. It was going to stretch the budget, but this girl needed extra protection and the department would just have to spring for it. “I think you could be right.”

  “I’ll check and see if some of my SEAL buddies can help watch her twenty-four/seven.” Jackson’s offer was too good to pass up.

  “You do that, and I’ll organize an extra patrol car to cruise your neighborhood.”

  “How soon before you have the DNA results?”

  “I’ll get them off to the lab first thing tomorrow, but with the weekend coming up, it’ll be Tuesday at the earliest before we hear back. Should anything come to light in the meantime, I’ll be in touch.”

  Jackson gave him a terse nod and Jesse turned and climbed the stairs. When he’d first seen the SEAL walking toward him, he’d summed him up to be a take-charge kind of guy and hoped there wouldn’t be trouble. As he interviewed Kathy, he half expected him to butt in and try and take over, but he didn’t do that, he just sat back and calmly allowed him to do his job. It was a mighty effort on Jackson’s part and although he’d promised his full cooperation, it would be a miracle if they didn’t lock horns before this case was over.

  Chapter 13

  Chuck lay on the sidewalk curled in the fetal position. Sweat beading on his forehead and upper lip as he writhed in agony. The pain was excruciating, like nothing he’d ever experienced before. It was as if white lightning was shooting through his entire body attacking every nerve ending. As he struggled to his knees the gorge rose in his throat and he retched violently, empting the contents of his stomach onto the cement.

  Time was crucial. He sucked in some big ones and forced himself to stand. The vomit, he wiped from his mouth with the tail of his shirt. With labored breath and clutching his balls, he gingerly made his way to the van and hauled ass behind the wheel, conscious of the need to hightail it out of there.

  The police would soon be on the lookout for him and the van was a dead giveaway. Torn between ditching it and the need to get home, he decided to risk driving the short distance to San Diego convinced he had enough leeway to make good his escape. In any event, he was in too much pain to go far on foot, and he had to get the hell away fast. Of all the dumb luck, he almost had the bitch in the van when that crazy woman honking her horn distracted him. His old pal would be royally pissed. He’d make it up to him though, and relish doing it, because that whore was going to pay, and he desperately wanted a second crack at her.

  Chuck made sure that he didn’t run any lights or draw undue attention on the trip home. His heart did stop for a second when a black and white pulled alongside at a red light, but when the lights changed, it cruised by as if on routine duty. He let out the clutch and indicated his intent. The blinker flashed a vibrant orange as he slowed and turned into a deserted laneway. It was as good a place as any to ditch the van and had the added advantage of being only a few blocks from home, no way was he up to hoofing it much farther than that.

  Cold spots of rain began to fall as he crawled out of the van and thunder ech
oed overhead promising a deluge. Chuck pulled his collar up protectively against the weather and set off in a southwesterly direction.

  It was pitch. The street lighting was out, allowing the night to close in around him like a shroud. As his feet chewed up the pavement, he decided not to break the bad news tonight; he was in no mood for a lecture. The rain was now a steady fall, drenching and chilling him to the bone. His balls ached, and he was jittery from being long overdue for a hit and couldn’t think straight. He needed time to assimilate the evening’s catastrophe and come up with a plausible excuse as to how the bitch had escaped.

  By the time he entered his apartment, Chuck felt like a popsicle. A hot shower was first on the agenda, and then he’d take care of his other need.

  Chuck shed his sopping plaid over-shirt and tossed it without a care onto the living room floor where it merged with the rest of the debris. The black T-shirt quickly followed, and he was in the process of removing his jeans when a heavy thud on the door made his heart jump.

  Shit, who the hell could that be? Surely the cops haven’t connected me to the bitch already.

  * * * *

  The match head flared brightly as Sonny went around the room lighting the scented candles. Although it was still light outside, the atmosphere had to be romantic for her homecoming. At long last, his plan was coming to fruition, and he was jubilant.

  He plumped the cushions that were arranged and color coordinated with an artistic flare on the white leather lounge. A tall vase of ruby roses with a single white bloom in the center adorned the dining table, their fragrant scent mingling with the candles creating an exotic perfume.

  In the bedroom, no expense had been spared. The bed had been made up with fresh laundered new sheets. A bottle of bubbly stood chilling in a silver ice bucket on the bedside table along with two crystal champagne flutes.

  Just like her, everything had to be perfect.

  After all, as Socrates insisted, first impressions were always lasting. And he wanted Kathy’s first impression of the interior of her new home to be favorable, Lord knows the exterior left a lot to be desired, but that was necessary and an integral part of his plan, he wanted the place to look uninhabited.