Breaking Shadows (Darkness Falls Book 2)

by Melissa Sinclair

  “That’s a damn good question. Which is what leads us to believe it was another person in the cell block. The boys were too new to have gained access to a shank, let alone something to hang themselves with. We need to finish this and finish it ASAP.” With that, he walked out of the room.

  “He’s pissed off,” Sanchez mumbled.

  “I’m sure he has people breathing down his neck. There are a lot of bodies piling up, and it’s starting to look pretty bad. With an election coming up, the mayor is going to want to clear this case in a hurry,” Caleb said.

  Ethan just got up and headed to his desk to try to figure a way out of this whole mess. Hours later, he stood and stretched, then grabbed his phone. He was surprised he hadn’t had any messages all afternoon. He assumed he’d been so absorbed in what he was doing that he had tuned out any noises from his phone, but when he looked at his phone, he found numerous missed messages. He’d accidentally put it on silence. Real smooth, great time to make that kind of mistake. Flipping it back to ring, he scrolled through the messages. Most of the messages were nothing important, but his pulse ratcheted up when he saw that several were from Quinn.

  From three hours ago: Hey, I’m ready to wrap it up for the day. Probably overdid it with that self-defense class. Any chance you can swing by and take me back to your place?

  Two hours ago: You must be busy, let me know if you can’t take me back so I can find another ride.

  An hour later: Kind of scaring me a bit. Hope you’re just busy. I’ll wait a little longer. Just message me, please.

  And then thirty minutes ago: Never mind, Kara just showed up. She said she’ll give me a ride back, she has your key and is going to let me borrow it.

  Ethan wasn’t thrilled that Quinn had left with Kara. He understood, but he didn’t like either of them exposed like that. He felt terrible that he hadn’t been able to leave work to take her home. She was probably exhausted from being at work all day; she still was nowhere near one hundred percent. Glancing at his desk, he decided to call it a day. He could sit there for another twelve hours and continue with what he’d been doing, but it hadn’t netted him any kind of solid leads anyway. He would call in his backup plan to cover her until he got there; he was about to tell Caleb that he was ready to head home when his cell phone rang. Looking at the screen, he saw Quinn’s name. Relieved, he answered the phone, and the floor dropped out from under him when he heard the terror in her voice.

  22

  Quinn let herself in the front door to Ethan’s building with the key Kara had given her. It seemed everyone close to Ethan had a key to the outside door, but only Kara had the key to his apartment. Kara explained that the locks were keyed, so his key opened all the locks in the building, but all of the apartment keys only opened the front door and their apartment.

  When she’d come to his apartment the other day, she was kind of loopy and didn’t pay close attention, so it took her a second to find the light switches to turn the outside light on for Ethan. When they had left, it’d been light out. She was inserting it into the lock when Cat came out of nowhere and crashed into her legs. Quinn jumped and looked down at the furry beast.

  “Geez, you know how to make an entrance, huh? Where did you come from?” She was certain that the cat had snuck outside when they left, but they hadn’t had time to track her down.

  Her heart was racing fast as Cat did a figure eight around her legs and sat down. How had she gotten back inside? Had Ethan stopped by and let her in? Quinn noticed two things at the same time: Cat had started to lick her paw. Her red paw. And there were what seemed to be a trail of paw prints on the floor where Cat had run toward her. The hair on Quinn’s arms stood on end, and she backed a step away from the door of the apartment. She was undecided what to do. Go to the apartment or leave? All she knew for certain was she wanted to scoop up the cat, but she thought that was a bad idea. The smartest choice was to call Ethan. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her cell phone and punched his name in her contact list.

  “Vanderbilt.”

  “Ethan, it’s Quinn.” Something in her voice must have alerted him to trouble because he instantaneously asked what was wrong. “Um, I need you to come home, there…well, Cat’s paws are red, and she’s licking them and…and there are red paw prints all over.”

  “Quinn, you aren’t making a lot of sense right now,” Ethan said, his voice strained.

  “I…I think it’s blood. Ethan, I think she walked through blood and tracked it all over.”

  “Are you still in the apartment?” When she didn’t answer, he shouted, “Quinn!”

  “No, I-I’m sorry. I’m in the hallway. I never went inside. She startled me as I was putting the key in the door. Should I leave?”

  “No! Go upstairs to the second floor. Knock on the door on the right. I want you to wait there with the officer in the apartment. Stay with her until I get there.” Either Quinn was too scared to think straight, she had misheard him, or it was Ethan’s turn to be talking in riddles.

  “What? Who?”

  “I’ll explain later. Just go up there and stay on the phone until you’re in the room with Officer Rodriguez. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.” Quinn climbed the flight of stairs as she spoke. Halfway up, she missed a step and tripped. As she regained her footing, she stopped dead in her tracks. She had wondered where Cat had come from. It was clear from the paw prints that she’d been upstairs. They were darker and more noticeable farther up the stairs. “Ethan…there are bloody prints on the stairs.”

  “Quinn, we’re a few minutes away. Don’t go upstairs, I need you out of that house. Now!”

  “But Officer Rodriguez, you told me to go to her.”

  “Ignore what I said. Get out!”

  It dawned on her then. In her fear, she hadn’t thought about how the officer could be the source of the blood.

  “What if…what if your officer needs help?”

  “Quinn, get out now! Don’t go up those stairs!”

  Quinn wasn’t listening, or at least, she couldn’t hear. Her heart was pounding hard, and the blood seemed to be thrumming through her ears. There were two arguments waging war in her head. Fight or flight. Go check on the officer or run with her tail between her legs? It was just as likely the red wasn’t blood, wasn’t it? Maybe she’d gotten into paint? But she knew that wasn’t the case. She took a hesitant step up the stairs, thinking of all those times in scary movies that the person ran up the stairs and got killed because of it, but the more she looked at the paw prints, the more she realized that it was just as likely the reason for the blood could be innocent in nature. Perhaps the officer had fallen and gotten hurt? Or maybe if someone had attacked her they were long gone. The fighting side of her was clinging to the former of the two. She tried to convince herself that there was nothing to worry about as she took another step and continued up the stairs. Ethan was yelling in her ear, but she kept going. At the top, she saw the door on the right was slightly ajar, enough for a cat to get through, and the paw prints were coming out of that room.

  “Ethan, the door is ajar.”

  “Damn it, Quinn, I told you not to go upstairs. Do not go in that room.”

  “What if she needs help?”

  “We can help her. I’m begging you to go back down the stairs. We’re almost there.”

  “What if I could make the difference and save her?”

  Knowing how extremely stupid it was, she slowly pushed the door open and saw the officer lying on the ground, blood coming from her head and stomach—a lot of blood. More blood than was good for a person to lose. Without really thinking, Quinn entered the apartment, and her first aid training kicked in. She knew better than to go in that room, but she also knew the officer was bleeding out. Falling to her knees next to the fallen officer, she checked her wrist for a pulse and felt a relatively strong one. The wound to her stomach was still bleeding profusely from what appeared to be a knife wound.

  “Officer Rodriguez, can you
open your eyes?” She could hear the tinny voice of Ethan coming from the phone she had set on the floor and sirens in the distance as the officer’s lips started to move. She leaned forward to hear her. Her ear was nearly pressed against her mouth. “What did you say?”

  “Get…out…behind…you…” The words had her blood running cold. She turned to look over her shoulder just as she heard the noise of approaching footsteps.

  Years of self-defense kicked in, and she spun, sweeping her leg out. The hulking man crashed to the ground, but he was limber and up on his feet in an instant. The sirens were closer. The masked man looked around before he lunged at her, shoving her to the ground. She was in a crouch and lost her balance, falling to the floor before he was on top her. He slammed her head into the ground once, then whispered, “Consider this your lucky day,” before he slammed her head into the ground again, then he stampeded out the door and down the stairs. Breathing heavily and seeing stars, she flipped onto all fours and threw up. Then, remembering how badly Officer Rodriguez needed her help, she crawled to her and applied pressure to the wound on her abdomen.

  Ethan was driving like a bat out of hell, screaming at Quinn to get out of the house when he heard a shuffling, a thump, and then a male voice speaking. The words were quiet, but he could hear them, and Ethan’s stomach tightened. He punched the gas as he heard another thump.

  “The bastard’s still there!” he shouted.

  Fear clawed at him. What was the thump he’d heard? Was Quinn all right? Was she dead? Did he just hear her murder over the live line? Would they miss the suspect by mere seconds? All of these thoughts were cascading through his head, and he thought he was going to lose his shit. There was no way this was going down this way. He finally had the woman of his dreams. He wasn’t losing her—not now and not like this.

  “Ethan, you can’t take that last turn this fast.”

  “The hell I can’t,” he spat back as they rounded the corner on two tires. Caleb swore a blue streak next to him as the car righted itself. He skidded to a stop half on the sidewalk and threw the car door open.

  Running up the walk, he ran through the wide open front door. Caleb was hot on his heels, watching his back since he wasn’t thinking straight at the moment. Taking the stairs two at a time, he flew through the apartment door and found Quinn, alive and applying pressure to Officer Angela Rodriguez’s stomach. Quinn appeared to be okay, but she looked pale and shaken. Officer Rodriguez was another story. She needed help. Fast.

  “Go see if you can track the son of a bitch!” Ethan shouted at Caleb as he knelt by Quinn and dialed for an ETA on the rig he’d called for.

  Gently, he tried to remove Quinn’s hands so he could take over, but she wouldn’t let him. She just shook her head and stared at Rodriguez’s face, talking softly to her, telling her that she was going to be okay, that help was on the way. Rodriguez opened her eyes and closed them a couple times. As they could hear the ambulance approach, she seemed to relax and give into the pain and lost consciousness. Ethan squeezed her shoulder. He had told them on the phone to be careful approaching, that the scene may not be secure. He could hear Caleb downstairs, and he needed to clear the other apartments.

  “I’ll be right back, I need to clear the apartments before the EMTs can come in.”

  “Hurry,” was all she said.

  He left the room and saw a couple of uniforms coming up the stairs.

  “Clear the upstairs. I’ll check this floor.”

  “Detective Montgomery is clearing your apartment downstairs. He found her key on the floor.”

  With a nod, Ethan dismissed the officers and went back to the apartment to clear the other rooms. He didn’t want Quinn in that room until he knew there was nothing else that could harm her in there. It was unlikely that there was anyone left in the building. They would have left after they had her down, but they still needed to be sure. For all he knew, there was a bomb in the building. After he cleared the apartment, he told Quinn he was checking the one across the hall, the one he intended to have her move into as soon as possible.

  Once he was satisfied that the floor was secure, he called out the all clear. Caleb called back that Ethan’s apartment was clear and that Cat was locked in the bathroom. The officers on the third floor called down a moment later, and then Ethan called down to let the EMTs up. They came in quickly, intent on getting to their patient.

  “Apartment to the right,” he called out and waited for them to enter the apartment before he went in to collect Quinn. At first, she was resistant to leaving until he told her the room was too crowded for the stretcher with that many people.

  They were standing in the hallway, watching from the door as the EMTs worked to stabilize the young officer. Quinn was trembling beside him. Likely an adrenaline crash, he drew her close to him and held on when her body tensed. There was no way he was letting her out of his arms, not right then. Right then, at that exact moment in time, he needed her next to him, a concrete person, not just the dream of what he wanted in life. He had been so close, so unimaginably close to losing her, and he now knew how Caleb had felt. Ethan had been grief-stricken while Kara was missing, but the soul crushing feeling he’d felt when he was on the phone listening to the attack had been earth-shattering, to say the least.

  “Are you all right? Did the attacker hurt you?”

  “He slammed my head into the ground a couple times, but I’m fine. I didn’t black out. I did throw up, but it could have been the adrenaline that caused that to happen.”

  “We should make sure that you don’t have a concussion before they leave.”

  “Their priority is Officer Rodriguez.”

  “True, but it won’t take more than a second of their time.”

  “Ethan—"

  “Quinn, don’t argue with me. I asked you to stay at the center. You didn’t. I need you to let me have you checked over.”

  “I can check her over,” Caleb said from behind. Ethan visibly jumped; he hadn’t heard Caleb approach. “I’ve been learning from Kara what to look for. First aid training, et cetera. It’s useful for this line of work, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. Let’s go down to my apartment. We’ll need a statement from you, as well,” he said, looking at Quinn who was still staring at Rodriguez.

  “I’m not moving until I know her status.”

  One of the EMTs heard and responded, “We need to get her to the hospital, but she’s stable for now. She’ll be heading into surgery for sure. I’m sure Captain Wickman will have them update Detective Vanderbilt with her status.”

  “All right. Good enough. For now. Thank you.”

  Taking Quinn’s arm, he escorted her down the stairs behind the stretcher. She insisted on watching as the ambulance left. Her body was still trembling slightly, and he knew she needed to decompress.

  “After Caleb takes a look at you, I want you to go take a bath or shower. We can get your statement after.”

  “No. I’ll give my statement first.” He knew she had no idea that she was covered in the officer’s blood.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to get cleaned up first?” he asked gently.

  She looked at him, confused, blinked, and then looked down at her hands.

  “Oh, yeah, I guess I should go clean the blood off. I’ll give the statement after. Will you give Cat a quick rinse while I’m in the shower?”

  Ethan waited as Caleb checked her over and deemed her concussion free before she went to go get cleaned up. After a brief word with Caleb, he followed her into the bathroom and stopped short. Quinn was clutching Cat to her chest, swaying side to side and whispering in her ear. The scene before his eyes was too much. He watched as she stood there looking lost, and he didn’t know what to do to comfort her as she clung to his cat, and now wasn’t the time to load more on her.

  “I didn’t see Cat when I got here. Caleb said she was trying to sneak out when he came in, so he locked her in here. I didn’t realize how covered i
n blood she was. I would have taken care of that so you wouldn’t have to see her like that again.” A dry sob shook Quinn, and he stepped toward her. “Let me try to get the blood off your injured arm, and then I’ll get a bag over your cast so you can shower. Once you’re in there, I’ll give her a bath in the laundry tub.”

  She didn’t move, so he gently pulled Cat out of her arms and set her on the floor. The cat didn’t move from Quinn’s feet while he moved her toward the sink and began to wash her left hand. Once he had the plastic bag over her hand, he went and turned the shower on. She still stood there, not moving.

  “Quinn, honey, I need you to get in the shower. I’ll wash your clothes, okay?” Nothing. No response whatsoever. He gently began to nudge up her shirt, and that was enough to get her back into her own body.

  “I-I’ve got it. Thank you. Sorry, I was reliving it. Um, I’ll be out in a bit.”

  “Leave the clothes on the floor, and I’ll get them after your shower.”

  “Okay.”

  Closing the door behind him, he brought Cat to the laundry room and rinsed her off. To say the feline was pissed was putting it mildly. He towel-dried her and set her on the ground then made his way back to the kitchen where he found Caleb leaning against the counter.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “In shock, I think. At least, I don’t think it’s the head injury making her spacey. You said there’s no concussion.” He ran his hands through his hair. “Jesus, Caleb, I don’t know what I would have done. When I got up there, she was covered in Angela’s blood and on her knees next to her, swaying. I didn’t know if any of the blood was hers.”

  “It wasn’t, though, right?”

  “I don’t think so. It was hard to tell in the bathroom. I mean, I couldn’t see where her clothes covered her. But I think it was all Angela’s. I doubt any was his, but I’ll bag the clothes and send them off to evidence.”

  “She held her own against him. Even injured.”

  “Yeah, imagine what would have happened if she was fully locked and loaded and not sporting a broken arm.”