Deadly Alliances

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Deadly Alliances Page 32

by Candle Sutton


  Focus. She might still be alive.

  Forcing the memories back into the recesses of his mind, he jogged toward the woman, careful to avoid the blood and spatter surrounding her. Midnight hair tangled around her head. Eyes stared sightlessly at the black sky, her mouth frozen in a silent scream.

  He didn’t need to feel for a pulse to know she was dead.

  Still, he knelt beside her and pressed two fingers against her neck. His stomach pitched as the fingers slipped in the blood smeared on her skin. Fighting the instinct to rip his hand away, he moved his fingers to the right spot and felt for any flicker of a heartbeat.

  Nothing. The woman was long gone.

  ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪ ₪

  Blood ringed Paul’s fingernails. He rubbed at it, as he had so many times in the past hour, but the color seemed tattooed on his skin.

  The hard curb hurt his tailbone, but he couldn’t find the energy or motivation to move.

  At least he could still feel pain. That woman–

  “Paul?”

  The voice poured over him, warming him like fire, even if it didn’t completely chase the chill from his bones.

  She’d come.

  Of course she’d come. She’d told him she would. And in the year since he’d met Milana Tanner at her father’s church, he couldn’t think of a single time she had failed to keep a commitment.

  Just one more trait on the already long list of things he loved about her.

  Police lights bathed her in a blue and red glow as she approached, the colors dancing on her olive skin and shiny black hair.

  He pushed to his feet and enveloped her in his arms. “Sorry I disrupted your night.”

  “Don’t be. This isn’t your fault.”

  True. But choosing to call her, knowing she’d give up whatever she had going on to help him, was his fault.

  He hadn’t considered calling anyone but her. Even if she hadn’t been his first choice, she was probably the only person he knew who wouldn’t be completely horrified by what he’d witnessed tonight. Years of working for the US Marshals’ service guaranteed that she’d seen things like this before.

  Probably much worse.

  “You okay?” Her words muffled into his shirt.

  “Yeah.” As much as he didn’t want to, he released her and stepped back. “Better than her.”

  Both of them turned to look at the body, not that they could see much. Between the police, medical examiner, and distance, the body was little more than a speed bump. But he didn’t need to see her. The woman’s pained face burned his mind.

  He looked down at his blood-stained fingers.

  “It’ll wash off.” Lana’s soft words carried a wealth of compassion that brought tears to his eyes. He forced them back.

  She was right. The blood would wash off his hands. But would he be able to wipe it from his memories as easily?

  “There was so much blood.”

  “Usually happens with a stabbing.”

  That explained a lot. The amount of blood, the tortured scream. Not to mention the lack of a gunshot.

  He looked up, meeting eyes so dark they appeared black. “She was stabbed? How did you…?”

  “I listened to the police scanner on my way over. What were you doing down here anyway?”

  “I was walking back from the police station.”

  “What happened?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, intensity shining in their depths. “And why were you walking? Where’s your car?”

  “Some punks slashed the tires.” The night swirled in his head.

  If he’d known what kind of day today would turn out to be, he would’ve stayed in bed. Not that avoidance would’ve prevented any of this from happening.

  “So you went to the police station to report the vandalism?” Confusion laced her voice.

  “I wish. Austin was arrested.” The words cut like a knife to the heart.

  “Gangs?”

  “It always is with him. He was part of a drive-by tonight. Thank God no one was killed.” He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I failed him.”

  “Hey, you did everything you could. It’s hard to help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

  The truth didn’t make him feel any better. “I don’t know what I’m gonna tell the other kids.”

  The faces of the kids in his group home filled his head. At sixteen, Austin was one of the oldest and, when not around his gang buddies, a pretty good mentor to the younger kids.

  “How about the truth? That there’s right and there’s wrong, that choices have consequences, and that those consequences can last a lifetime. It’s never too early to learn that lesson.”

  Didn’t he know it.

  Here he was in love with someone way out of reach because of mistakes he’d made in the past.

  “I guess you’re right. But it’s not going to make the conversation any easier.”

  “It never does.” She turned to look at the cluster of police surrounding the body. “Have they taken your statement or said when you’d be free to go?”

  “They took my statement, but didn’t say much after that.”

  “Let me see if I can take you home.”

  Home sounded nice. Especially considering the headache building behind his eyes.

  She pulled her badge from her pocket and strode across the asphalt. Several heads turned as she made her way toward the detective, but none of the uniforms moved to stop her.

  At only a little over five feet tall, it amazed him that she could command the authority she did. Heck, half the kids in his home were bigger than her and yet, here she was, moving through a sea of cops as though she called the shots.

  Then again, a high level of confidence was probably a necessity in order to be taken seriously in what was still largely a man’s world. Especially since she looked a whole lot younger than thirty-seven.

  As she stopped beside the detective, Paul sank back to the curb and rested his head in his hands.

  Man. What a day.

  After today, he’d probably be on a first name basis with the cops at the local precinct.

  He drove the events of the day into the background and focused on more pleasant things instead. Like Lana. Her quick smile and slightly upturned nose. The way she smelled like mangos. How she always dropped everything to support the people she cared about.

  “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”

  He jerked, his eyes flipping open to find Lana a few feet in front of him, looking every bit as good as she had in his mind.

  “Hey. You okay?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Pushing up from the curb, he tried to smile. “I think the long day’s getting to me, though. So we’re good here?”

  “They want you to come to the station tomorrow for a formal statement, but he said you can go for tonight.”

  Yay. Another trip to the station.

  He fell into step beside her as she led the way around the police tape to where her white Toyota Corolla waited. As she started the car, his eyes fell on the clock.

  “Aw, man.” 11:03 p.m. “I should’ve called Dale to let him know what was going on.”

  At least it was summer. Dale and Annie Webber, his live-in staff, wouldn’t need to be up early to get ready for school. Sometimes it paid to be a teacher.

  “You can fill them in when we get there.”

  “Yeah, but Dale gave me a lift to the police station. He was expecting me to call him when I finished up so he could come get me, but I was so keyed up I decided to walk.”

  Funny how such a seemingly small decision could so dramatically impact his life.

  He leaned his head back against the headrest. “I bet Jason and Stef will still be there, too.”

  “They were there when the police told you about Austin?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I take it they haven’t figured out who they want to adopt yet?”

  “Not yet.” The Pools had been getting to know his kids for a few weeks now and were always over helping out
.

  Which was fine by him. Not only was it nice to have an extra set of hands, the more adults who invested in those kids, the better.

  “You should’ve called me. I would’ve gone with you.”

  “Like I’d make you drive halfway across town to help me deal with one of my kids. It’s bad enough I called you for this.”

  “You can always call me. You know that.”

  “I know. But you’ve got your own problems to deal with.” The last thing she needed was to absorb all his issues, too.

  She pulled to a stop in front of the group home and quieted the engine. Silence fell for a few seconds before she broke it, her voice soft and serious. “The police think this is the work of that serial killer.”

  Serial killer?

  The truth tore through him like a flash flood. What were they calling him? “That Jacksonville Ripper guy?”

  “That’s the one. And you’re the only witness.”

  Also available from Candle Sutton

 

 

 


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