Mounting Evidence

by Karis Walsh

  Rachel and Bandit came out of the barn and took the lead as the unit moved as one toward the midway. The original plan, Abby knew since she’d help draw it up with Rachel, was for them to patrol in pairs. Walkie-talkies would connect the four together, and police radios would tie them to the foot-patrol officers at the fair. Abby had expected them to make allowances for her since she wasn’t familiar with their routines, but she hadn’t anticipated the resulting change in dynamics. She’d envisioned herself as an observer, overseeing the troops as they worked. Instead, she’d been coddled and protected as if she was one of their grandmothers on a ride-along. Billie and Don on either side, and Rachel ahead. She wasn’t so much bothered by the care her team was taking—after all, they were right to do so—but the close quarters led to close conversations. At first, Abby had tried not to join in, and she had remained nearly mute while the three others—bonded by long hours spent in each other’s company—chatted and laughed. But how many jokes could she hear before she chimed in with a funny retort? Her resolve to stay distant had lasted less than an hour, and even though she occasionally made a new resolution, she was just as quick to break it.

  Kira had challenged her as well. She brought up uncomfortable questions about Nirvana and Abby’s brother, and she didn’t seem satisfied with Abby’s evasive answers. And though she’d spent her career determined never to mix her professional and personal lives, after five minutes spent with Kira and Julie, Abby had been ready to abandon that principle, too, and every time she saw Kira she felt her resolve erode a little more. Luckily, Kira seemed to be avoiding her. Abby couldn’t help but look for her as they walked around the fairground, and every time she got a glimpse of Kira, she switched directions and disappeared. Abby should feel relieved. Instead of determinedly challenging her boundaries like the mounted team was doing, Kira seemed content to keep distance between them.

  Rachel held up a hand and stopped the foursome as a young girl darted out of the crowd and reached to pet Bandit’s leg. The same thing happened a few times every night, especially when they were near the kiddie rides, and the horses stood quietly as a few families milled around and visited with them. When they were ready to move forward again, Rachel turned back toward her.

  “Are you okay, Lieutenant? If you’re too sore…”

  Abby gestured toward the pony ride, where several furry animals were attached to a metal pole that spun in a slow circle. “Yeah, Bryce, I’m exhausted. Why don’t you tie me and Legs to one of those chains and we’ll stay here until you’re done for the night.”

  Rachel raised her eyebrows and Abby realized how irritated her voice had sounded.

  “Maybe we should split into pairs tonight,” Rachel said after a few seconds of silence. “Don and Billie, I heard there were some gang members hanging out around the main game tent. There will be plenty of officers nearby, but it’d be a good idea to make the horses’ presence known. Abby and I can check out the grandstand area since tonight’s show will attract a younger audience and I don’t want the crowd to get out of hand.”

  Abby felt the change in Legs as soon as Don and Billie rode away from them. She and Rachel turned toward the central portion of the fairgrounds, and the gray mare shied away from a blue-and-white checked piece of paper blown across their path by a slight breeze. Abby stroked the mare’s neck and spoke quietly to her until her muscles relaxed and they were ready to move on again. She had been so caught up in her own problems and her thoughts of Kira that she hadn’t stopped to think about how much comfort Legs was deriving from the nearness of her small herd. Abby hoped her pride hadn’t jeopardized the safety of her horse or her partner.

  “I wouldn’t have split us up if I didn’t think you could handle it, no matter how much you whined,” Rachel said, as if reading Abby’s mind.

  She never whined. Abby was about to protest when she saw Rachel’s grin. Was her entire unit bent on joking with her like she was one of the gang instead of their boss? Abby kept quiet and concentrated on keeping a firm but quiet hand on the reins. Bandit walked along calmly, and Legs seemed to relax as she stuck close by his side. Even though Rachel had disguised it as teasing, Abby knew the truth of her statement. As usual, she was well aware of the big picture and wouldn’t be swayed from it. Hell, it was the main reason why Abby had come to respect Rachel as a sergeant and a person—she stood by her beliefs and would never put the team at risk just to placate Abby.

  “Hey,” Rachel said. “Did I ever tell you about the time Cal made us walk across the Narrows Bridge for a training session?”

  Abby felt herself disengage even as she laughed along with Rachel’s story. She had to keep her focus on the big picture, too. The future of her mounted unit. The good she could do as a member of the police force as long as she maintained a strict adherence to the protocols she’d set in place for herself. She sat comfortably in the saddle for the first time in days, rocking along with the rhythm of Legs’s stride as they walked past the carousel. The mare watched with interest as a horde of children ran around the wooden platform, hurrying to claim a favorite mount from the lavishly colored choices. Abby had wanted to experience being part of this team, and she had her chance now on this crisp fall evening, surrounded by the layered scents and sounds of the fair. It was a fleeting moment in time. In two weeks, this would be over—the tempting sight of Kira, the laughter of her temporary teammates, the camaraderie of mounted patrol—and she would be back to normal. Mostly unchanged, but maybe a little stronger both physically from her work on Legs and mentally from her ability to resist both her desire to let down her defenses with Kira and her team. No more bonding during nightly patrols, and definitely no more intimate lunches flavored with tangy barbecue sauce and the sweet taste of Kira’s fingers. She exhaled deeply and felt an answering sigh from Legs as they followed Rachel toward the main grandstand.

  Chapter Seven

  Kira had been confident about her work on the Milford property during the week, but somehow being back at the fair—where he had confronted her only a few days before—made her jumpy. While Julie prepped for and rode in her trail class, Kira spent the day scanning the faces around her, waiting for Tad Milford to show up again. Her career as a wetland biologist regularly required confrontation since developers often disagreed with her environmental impact assessments and her restrictions on building sites. When she had first started in the field, she had never minded a good, heated debate about the ecosystems she studied and fought to protect, but she had changed lately. Before, she had been able to separate herself from the conflicts—arguing with knowledge and data rather than emotions. But now? Even the thought of Tad standing too close to her with a heartless expression on his face made her react physically. A dry mouth and sweaty palms. She felt upside down, and not in a good way. Exposed.

  She wandered around the midway, delaying the trip from the busy grounds to the parking lot with all its shadowy hiding spots. She and Julie had parked a few blocks away this morning, to save on the ridiculous parking fees for the main lots, but she had run out there after Julie’s class and moved her car to one of the closer, pricey spots. Even so, she dreaded the short walk. She wasn’t so much afraid that Tad would follow her or attack her, but she was afraid of—and angered by—her own fear. What had happened to the brave and outspoken woman she’d been after graduate school?

  She paused by one of the rides and watched the twirling cars whip through the air. The green and yellow neon lights illuminated the faces of the riders. Wide grins, mouths parted in loud screams. These people had paid to feel fear, to be pushed out of their comfort zones and flung through the air. She’d been like them, once. Kira avoided those feelings as much as possible these days, for her own sake but mostly to create a safer life for Julie. A life of predictability and security—was it even possible? Now danger had approached from an unexpected angle, from her work and not her personal relationships. Julie was part of the reason she reacted so strongly to Tad’s threats. She cared about wetlands and would fi
ght to protect the environment, but how much more would she give up to protect her daughter? Her life. Anything and everything she had.

  Kira saw Abby and another officer riding toward her, and she ducked behind a stand selling deep-fried candy bars. Yes, another opportunity to be fearful instead of brave. This time, however, Kira was protecting her heart and not her body. Her identity and then her physical security had been subsumed by Dale, and Kira couldn’t allow that to happen again. Ever. She was too attracted to Abby to let herself get close. She hadn’t been able to find a sufficient reason to keep Julie from attending the mounted police demonstration ride yet again, but she had made an excuse to let her and her friend Angie go alone while she had used the time to move her car. At least that way she had been able to find a safer parking spot without worrying Julie. She wanted to protect her daughter, but at the same time she didn’t want Julie to have to face the fear and loss of self she had experienced.

  Unfortunately, not watching the police ride hadn’t kept her from hearing about the entire thing from an enthusiastic Julie. Officer Hargrove did this…Officer Hargrove did that… Kira shook her head even as she slipped out of her hiding spot and followed the two riders. She was only interested in seeing if Abby really was as amazing as Julie seemed to think. Kira didn’t do much riding herself, but she had watched Julie’s lessons enough to learn the basics and to recognize a skilled equestrian when she saw one. Abby didn’t look as relaxed in the saddle as her dark-haired companion did, but she carried herself with a controlled poise. Her hands were light and soft, and she moved easily with her large gray horse even when the animal shied away from a sudden burst of noise at one of the carnival games. Abby got her horse back under control calmly and without any fuss, and the two officers inched toward the offending sound. Step by step, they moved forward until they were standing right by the wooden counter of the game. Players lobbed basketballs through the air while Abby and her partner watched. A flashing light and shrill whistle announced another winner, but this time Abby’s horse didn’t react to the sound, and the officers moved on.

  Kira walked behind them for another few feet before she realized she was staring a little too intently at Abby’s seat on the saddle. Snug pants showed every dip and groove of her muscles as she swayed with the horse’s movement. Mesmerizing.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Kira said when she almost ran into someone. She felt her face heat and looked around to see if anyone had seen her apologizing to a display of T-shirts. She turned around and headed in the opposite direction from Abby’s route. She’d be safer facing Tad Milford in the parking lot than following Abby any longer.

  Kira went out the gate and hurried to catch up to a large family as they crossed the street and entered the parking lot. The area was brightly lit, but still she circled around her car and checked the backseat before she got in and hurriedly locked the doors. She started the engine but just sat there for a few minutes, letting her heart rate slow down. So strong a reaction to such a simple act. The day had been as full of twists and sudden drops as a roller coaster. Watching Abby had gotten her heart beating faster, but she had to admit that feeling had been exhilarating, like the thrill of being pushed to the limit on an exciting ride. Kira used to crave that kind of reaction to another woman, but now it scared her as much as the walk to the parking lot had. Had she grown more sensible? Or was she too paranoid? She wasn’t certain.

  She backed out of her spot and drove home. Yes, she was overprotective and overreactive at times, but she had every reason to be. She had learned exactly what happened when she let someone strong get too close. The control happened slowly at first, but then life got too scary too fast. After she had managed to get out, she had been told by family and friends not to worry, that she’d eventually learn to trust again, but she didn’t care to. She trusted herself, was slowly learning to trust her own instincts once more, and that was enough. She’d try to teach Julie how to be careful while still being able to love, but for herself? She was better off being alone. Sometimes lonely, but safe at least.

  Kira drove slowly through the darkness, leaving the small town of Puyallup and taking the back roads into Tacoma. She bypassed the freeway and only occasionally checked to be sure no one was following her through the quiet residential streets. She was tempted to enter the drive-through of one of the several fast-food restaurants she passed on her way to Tacoma’s north end, but she resisted the urge. If Julie had been with her, they’d have stopped, but Julie was spending the night with Angie. Tomorrow night, the two would stay with Kira, and the girls would be sure to want burgers and fries for dinner, so she bypassed the chain restaurants for now. She’d have a sandwich at home tonight and share the more calorie-laden meal with the girls tomorrow night. She smiled at the thought. Competing at the fair seemed to be as much about socializing as it was about winning ribbons. Julie and Angie would probably spend the night strategizing for their upcoming classes and discussing the riders from other counties and clubs. Julie always took her riding seriously and never took for granted the money Kira spent on the activity, so Kira wouldn’t begrudge her a few sleepless and gossipy nights. She wanted Julie to have friends and have fun, and Kira herself would be very happy to have chatter and company in the house.

  She pulled into the driveway of her small postwar rambler and turned off the car. She had left a light on inside, but the house already seemed lonelier without Julie there to share it. Kira found her house key before she got out of the car. She’d keep the television on all night, preferring to sleep through the low volume rather than feel so alone. She shut and locked her car, and then walked up the path to her front door. She climbed the steps and pushed aside a couple of branches from one of her large rhododendrons. She’d need to trim them back this—

  She was on her knees before she registered the pain. Something hard had struck her thighs from behind, making her legs buckle. She put out a hand to balance herself on the concrete steps, but it was wrenched behind her back and a warm hand clamped over her mouth before she could do more than gasp in shock. She felt the sweat from the heavy palm on her lips. She struggled to get enough purchase on the steps to be in a position to fight back, but within seconds her hands were fastened together by something cuttingly sharp, and a piece of duct tape replaced the damp human flesh that had covered her mouth. The tape was tight, blocking all air and pulling the skin of her face into what appropriately felt like a grimace of pain.

  She was half dragged, half carried back down her driveway. She fought to kick or elbow the person holding her, but she was unable to do more than look wildly up and down her block, hoping one of her neighbors would come to her aid. The street was deserted, although she could see lights on in a few windows. Flickers of movement, shadows on closed drapes, but no eyes to witness her abduction. A dark cloth was tugged over her head, severing her connection to the world around her with a finality that made tears come to her eyes. With a cry of despair, Kira felt herself lifted off her feet and rolled backward. Her head slammed into something metal, making her wince in pain, before she felt it come to rest on a hard surface. Her legs were bent behind her back and fastened with a tight narrow band of plastic.

  The slam of metal on metal. The lid of a trunk…she was in someone’s trunk. She struggled to breathe rapidly through her nostrils, unable to get enough air. She was going to hyperventilate, but she couldn’t resist the need to get more oxygen. More air, please more air…

  The roar of the car’s engine coming to life reverberated through her body. She was trapped, but felt oddly exposed as the car moved. Cold night air whistled through cracks and chilled her bare arms. Every bump in the road jostled her aching body. Her nostrils flared as she pulled in breath with a growing sense of panic. She’d suffocate in the dark mask and duct tape. She’d die, unable to fill her lungs with air.

  Kira kicked at the walls of the trunk. Her attempts were futile. Her own weakness made her sag in despair, but she had to try again. She used all her strength to lift her bo
und legs and kick at the lid. She had to get out, get free, breathe air that wasn’t choked with exhaust. The fumes made bile rise in her throat, but she willed it down. She couldn’t vomit, not with her mouth sealed shut. She kicked again, with less strength but with more terror in her movements.

  She let her legs drop. She was only a step away from hysteria, from completely losing control in her panic to get out. Get out where? To find whom? The only person who was going to open the trunk was the one who’d put her there. Suddenly the thought of what might happen to her when he did open the lid and let her out made the thought of staying inside and suffocating seem the more bearable option. Fear rose again, making her breath shallow and fluttery. She lost touch with every part of her body except the passageway from her lungs to her throat to her nose. She needed more air, dragged it in, but it burned.

  You have five more seconds to panic, and then you have to pull it together. For Julie. For yourself. She moaned loudly, felt the material draped over her face dampen with her tears, while she counted slowly. One, two, three, four. Four and a half. Four and three-quarters. She gave a choked laugh. She and Julie had played that game many times before. Whenever Julie faced something she didn’t want to do, like homework or cleaning her room, Kira would give her to the count of five to complain and whine about it. Then she had to get it done. Julie had become an expert at fractions just to procrastinate more.

  Five. No more panic. Awareness and attention. Kira wasn’t sure how it would help. Would she find a way to escape? Or would she only gather enough evidence to possibly help the police find who did this to her? She pictured Abby looking for Julie at the fair. Sitting her down and telling her they’d found her mother’s body…