by Rita Herron
That she mattered to him and that for once someone would take care of her.
But nothing was all right. Women were in danger from a sexual deviant who very well might be one of the men in her care. One she obviously hadn’t healed.
Her brother was falling apart. Blaming himself for something that happened years ago, something that wasn’t his fault. Something that had traumatized him and affected him his entire life.
And her mother…her poor mother…would have to come to terms with the truth and the years that she’d lost. That is, if they could save her from her own traumatized mind.
And her father—where did he fit in this? Had he known the truth, that her mother was raped? Did he think she’d had an affair? Did he know that Bailey might not be his son? Was that the reason he’d left?
Hugging her arms around herself, she battled the emotions pummeling her. She felt so bereft and alone. She wanted Raul….
But he was still in love with his wife. People who’d lost loved ones to violence or early death often placed them on pedestals. She could never live up to the perfect image he had of his wife.
Not when she was a failure at everything she’d tried to do in her life.
Aching inside, she steeped a cup of hot tea and sipped it, then wearily settled into bed. All she wanted to do was sleep. Sleep and shut out the voices in her head. The cries of the victims who had died. The pleas of the patients who needed her.
The sound of her mother’s silent scream for help…
She closed her eyes, but nightmares haunted her. The dead girls’ wide eyes stared at her asking why they’d died. Bailey appeared there, too, the rage in his voice taunting her that the girls had gotten what they deserved.
Next floated a sea of faces—Jamal Rakely, Clyde Anson, Carl, the man in the group who had a fetish for satin and silk, Dr. Zovall laughing at her stupidity as he pretended to care for her mother.
A squeak of the floor jarred her awake, and she opened her eyes, her heart pounding. Another squeak, then a subtle breath rasping in the darkness.
She wasn’t alone.
Fear immobilizing her, her chest heaved and she quickly scanned the room. The curtain fluttered, a storm raging outside. A shadow moved toward her, hands outstretched.
She screamed and tried to reach for the phone, but he knocked it off the nightstand and it clattered to the floor. She threw up her hands to fight, but he slapped her so hard she saw black, then he pressed his knee into her stomach, and grasped her neck.
His heavy weight held her prisoner as he tightened his grip, choking the air from her lungs. Her body bucked, the blackness threatening to consume her.
Panic set in. She was going to die and she’d never see Raul again.
Chapter Twelve
Jenny couldn’t give up. She struggled against her attacker, swinging her hand sideways for something to defend herself, but she grasped at dead air.
The man wrapped something silky around her throat and was using it to choke her. A tie? Silk scarf? Panties?
God, was it the Strangler?
He pulled tighter, and she gasped for air, grappling for a weapon, and finally her fingers closed around the bedside clock. She swung it up and slammed it into the side of his head. The blow jarred him just enough to loosen his hold, and she raised her knee and thrust it against his groin. He howled, and punched her across the face, and stars shot before her eyes. The world swirled, but she used both feet to kick him, this time funneling all her strength into the jab until she knocked him backward and off her. His body bounced against the wall.
Taking advantage of the moment, she rolled off the bed and raced toward the door. He lunged after her, but she sidestepped him, then fled through the door. Without power or moonlight, the house was so dark, she couldn’t see two feet in front of her, and outside thunder ripped, exploding in the sky. Rain slashed the roof, but footsteps sounded behind her, and she heard breathing rasping closer.
Feeling her way down the stairs, she hit the bottom one and clawed her way to the umbrella stand. Heart pounding, she grabbed the umbrella, then swung it at the man’s legs as he descended the last step. She must have hit him below the knees because he tripped and cursed, a muted sound beneath the roar of the wind as his knees connected with the floor.
She didn’t wait for him to recover, but raced to her office, slammed the door and locked it, then grabbed the phone and dialed 911.
“This is Dr. Jenny Madden. Someone’s in my house. He tried to kill me.”
He shook the door and jerked at the doorknob then tried to kick his way in.
“Your location, ma’am?”
Her pulse racing, she blurted out her address. “Please hurry!”
More kicking at the door. Wood splintered.
“We’ll have someone there ASAP. Is he armed, ma’am?”
“I don’t know. Hurry! He’s trying to kick down the door.” She slammed down the phone and dragged the chair over in front of it.
Outside, something slashed the window pane, and she screamed, pivoting to see if he’d come around to break through the window. It looked like claws scratching at the glass—hands? A tree limb?
Panic tightened her lungs, and she shrieked as thunder boomed again. She backed into the corner, her gaze jumping from the window to the door, waiting, wondering which one he would break through.
Her mind swirled with thoughts of a weapon. In the office there was nothing but her computer. She’d boxed up things so Ralph could paint.
Hoping he’d left his toolbox inside when he’d repaired the molding, she felt along the floor edge. Her hand touched the cold metal, and she fumbled with the latch, then felt around until her hand closed around the hammer. She gripped it in her hand and braced herself. If the man burst in, she’d have to fight him with it.
RAUL’S PHONE JANGLED as he left the last coffee shop and checked the number. His captain. He connected the call. “Cortez.”
“Raul, a 911 call just came in from Dr. Madden’s house. I thought you’d want to know.”
Raul’s heart raced. “I’ll be there in five.” He hung up, spun around and hit the accelerator. The raging storm mimicked his pounding pulse as he flipped on his siren, bypassed slower traffic and honked for cars to move out of the way. He dashed through a red light, tires skidding as he careened onto Jenny’s street.
His chest tightened as he spotted her house. All the lights were out, yet lights still burned at the neighbors’ two doors down. Someone must have intentionally tampered with her power. Dammit.
Had her brother gotten violent? Had that doctor resurfaced?
Or could the Strangler have come after Jenny?
Fear knifed through his chest as he cut the siren and his headlights. He slammed on the breaks and parked at the curb three houses away, wanting to catch whoever it was, instead of alerting him of his arrival. From his peripheral vision, he saw a shadow lurking around the corner of the house and up the porch steps.
He threw open the car door and hit the ground running, then crouched down and eased along the red tips up the drive. Scanning the property as he moved, he braced himself to fire, staying partially hidden by the bushes.
“Stop or I’ll shoot.” He raised his gun, aiming at the man’s back.
“Wait, don’t shoot. It’s me, Keegan.”
It took a second to register but Raul kept his weapon trained as the man pivoted in the shadows. “Dammit, Keegan, what in the hell are you doing here?”
“I was close by. Heard the 911 call.” He pointed to his car on the other side of the street.
“Are you sure about that? You didn’t come because she blew you off?”
Keegan’s eyes narrowed. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” His eyes widened. “You can’t seriously think that I’m the stalker?”
“You don’t like to be turned down by women.” He snatched Keegan’s shirt. “And I know about those sexual harassment charges.”
“Which were dismissed, you crazy bastard.�
�
“They why were you skulking around the back?”
“I told you, I heard the call come in.” Keegan snatched Raul’s hand from him. “I checked the door and it was locked, so I ran around the side to see if a window was broken or another door jimmied. Nothing.”
Raul climbed the steps two at a time, still skeptical. “Go around back, guard it, and I’ll go in here.”
Keegan nodded, bit out a curse, then ran around back, while Raul knocked. “Jenny, it’s Raul. Open up!”
No response. He waited another second, listening for an intruder, a scream. But outside the storm raged and tossed pebbles across the drive, swirling leaves and twigs madly.
His chest heavy with fear, he jimmied the door and inched inside, his gun aimed. He scanned the entryway, the living room to the side but saw nothing.
“Jenny.”
No response. God, she couldn’t be dead. Please not dead. He couldn’t stand it. Should have come over earlier. Not left her alone.
Deciding the killer might still be upstairs, he slowly crept up them, scanning the hallway, the empty bedroom to the left, then inching inside Jenny’s. Darkness bathed the room, but through the shadows he noticed the bedcovers were rumpled, the lamp on the floor, the curtains flapping in the wind. Rain slashed the floor and he moved to the bathroom, his breath tight, terrified he’d find her body in the bathtub or shower.
Pain nearly immobilized him, but he moved on autopilot, checked the bathroom, the rest of the upstairs, but found nothing.
Fear clawed at him as he moved cautiously back down the stairs. He had to call it in, tell Keegan to canvass the area.
Then he noticed the office door to the left of the staircase. He’d never been inside it, but when he’d been here before it had been open. The door was closed now. Maybe the killer was holding her or hiding in waiting.
Slowly inching closer, he tried the door. Locked. Bracing his gun between his hands, he kicked the door open. It gave beneath his weight, but a chair was up against it and he shoved it aside.
“No!” A body jumped him, and he grabbed an arm, then realized it was a woman’s. Long hair brushed his face as he shook her. Jenny?
She had a hammer raised, but he gripped her hand and knocked it from her clutches, lowering his gun beside him at the same time.
“It’s me, Raul! Stop fighting me, dammit.”
She shrieked, then slowly relaxed as the truth registered. “Raul, God…”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He pulled her into his arms and she collapsed against him, sobbing uncontrollably.
“SOMEONE WAS IN the house,” Jenny cried. “In my bedroom. He tried to strangle me.”
“Are you hurt?” Raul stroked her back as he held her.
“Talk to me, Jenny. Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?”
“No…no doctor,” she whispered, although her voice sounded hoarse.
“What happened?” he asked against her ear.
“He tried to choke me.”
He pulled back to look at her, examined her face and cursed at the blood. “Did you get a look at him?”
She shook her head, forcing herself to calm down. Raul was here. She was alive. He would protect her. “It was too dark. He must have cut the lights….”
“Bastard.” He brushed a tear from her cheek. “Keegan is outside. Let me tell him to search the area.”
She clutched his arm not wanting to let him go. “Raul—”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll be right back.” She followed behind him to the door, and saw the deputy approach the porch. “She’s in here,” Raul shouted. “But she was attacked. Start canvassing the area, see if you find someone who looks suspicious. I’ll phone for a crime-scene unit.”
Keegan nodded and set off to comb the neighborhood while Raul rushed back to Jenny. She was trembling but her cries had quieted, and she wrapped her arms around herself trying to hold herself together physically and mentally.
“Jenny, are you sure you didn’t see anything? A face, an outline? Was it your brother or that doctor?”
“I don’t know. Not Bailey…” Her voice broke and she realized she sounded uncertain. “He had a scarf or something he used to try and strangle me.”
“The Strangler,” he said, although the MO was off slightly. The Strangler had drugged his other victims and had sex with them before he killed them. “Or it’s possible someone who wanted us to think he was.” He cursed. “How big was he?”
“I don’t know.” A shudder tore through her. “He had big hands. Rough.”
“Did you detect an odor? Cigarettes? Cologne?”
“No…it happened so fast. I’m sorry, Raul. I was in bed and he appeared out of nowhere.” Another shiver rippled up her spine at the memory of his hands around her throat, his weight on her, the force with which he’d struck her.
Lightning streaked the sky illuminating Raul’s face which was chiseled in angry lines. “I’m calling CSI. He drugged the other girls, so they didn’t fight back. If this is the same guy, he must be panicked, thinking we’re closing in. Maybe in the fight you got some DNA from him, or he left a print this time.”
If he was the same guy. Raul suspected a copycat, that her brother or Dr. Zovall might have attacked her. She didn’t think Bailey would try to kill her, but earlier he’d lost it, had been violent. But the drugs and shock had triggered his violent reaction.
Now they knew the truth about what Dr. Zovall had done, it was possible he wanted to silence her.
“Raul, I want to call the hospital and check on Mom. Dr. Solaris said he’d beef up security and have them watch her room, but I’m worried.”
He retrieved a flashlight from his car and shone it around for her to find the phone. She quickly dialed the hospital and relayed her concerns to the head of security. When she hung up, Raul was watching her, a feral gleam in his eyes.
“Dammit, Jenny, your forehead is bleeding,” he growled. “Bastard hit you in the face, didn’t he?”
“Yes, but I’m okay, really, Raul.”
“You might need stitches.” He pulled her to the kitchen, tore off some paper towels, dampened them, then blotted the blood from her forehead, insisting she lean over while he studied the depth and length of the gash.
The CSI team arrived, and Raul directed them to begin processing the crime scene.
Jenny prayed they found evidence, and that it didn’t point to her brother.
FURY KNOTTED Raul’s insides. Jenny had almost died tonight—he’d almost lost her. And he had no idea who had tried to kill her. Her brother? That crazy doctor?
Or the Strangler who’d already killed four women?
He’d vowed not to care for her, but the thought of finding her dead had ripped him apart inside. He should have gone with her to see her brother, but he’d been too busy protecting himself to realize that by not staying with her, he’d left her vulnerable.
It wouldn’t happen again. From now on, he’d guard her day and night.
And he’d find the man who’d attacked her and make him pay.
He searched the outside of the house and discovered that a back window to the mudroom had been jimmied open. Keegan must have missed it.
He showed his findings to the crime-scene techs to dust for prints, although the rain would complicate forensics. Bushes lined the wall near the window, and he saw where they’d been crushed by a man’s foot, but the rain had washed away any footprints. Still, he asked the team to search for indentations in the mud or muddy prints on the sidewalk out front.
The process took a couple of hours. Keegan returned, reporting that no one in the neighborhood had seen anyone suspicious.
How could this guy come in and out without being seen? Or had he? He must blend in so well that he didn’t stick out as a suspect.
Finally the team finished, reporting they had a partial print on the stairwell that they’d check out. If they belonged to Bailey, it would be enough to bring him in for questioning. Maybe enough for a warrant to search wherev
er he was staying. See if he had a stash of silk panties hidden somewhere waiting to be used on another victim.
He found Jenny nursing a cup of hot tea, a bit of color returning to her cheeks, but the bruise on her forehead made fresh rage well up in his belly.
Keegan strode down the stairs. “Do you want me to stay here tonight, keep a watch out in case the guy returns?”
Raul shook his head. “No, I’ll take care of Dr. Madden.”
“Listen, Cortez, I don’t mind taking a shift.”
“I’ve got it covered,” Raul snapped. “Just make sure the trace is processed.” He pulled Keegan outside out of Jenny’s earshot. “And let me know if anything turns up with Dr. Zovall. Also, see if you can find Dr. Madden’s brother, Bailey. I want him brought in for questioning.”
Keegan arched a brow. “You think one of them is the Strangler?”
Raul shrugged. “The doc’s too old to fit the profile, but he could be a copycat.”
“And the brother?”
“A hothead, has alcohol and drug problems, and just found out some traumatic news.”
Keegan whistled. “He blames Dr. Madden?”
“Could be he’s taking his rage out on the messenger. Jenny had a confrontation with him earlier.”
“I’ll check in and keep you posted. Any idea where the brother might go?”
“According to his files, he has a substance abuse problem. Check the local bars and your snitches.”
Keegan nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”
Raul thanked him, then returned to Jenny. She glanced up, her teacup still almost full, yet her hands were wrapped around it. She probably needed something stronger.
“Come on,” he said gently. “We both know you won’t sleep here tonight. Pack a bag. You’re staying at my place.”
Her gaze met his, questioning, uncertain.
“Please, Jenny. I need to make sure you’re safe tonight. And the only way I can do that is to keep you with me.”
She rose slowly but didn’t argue. He followed her up the steps, and waited in the hall while she threw together an overnight bag. Five minutes later they were on their way to his duplex. Her shoulders were stiff, tension lining her face, her silence worrying him.
