Temperature Rising

by Knight, Alysia S.

  She managed a weak smile. “Yes.”

  She sat there after he left, wondering what he could see in her, other than she was psycho.

  A couple hours later, Mac came down the hallway toward Laken’s apartment with a grocery sack in one hand and whistling to himself. Life was good again. He had a beautiful woman waiting to be impressed with his culinary talents, and a couple of funny old movies sure to lift the spirits while they cuddled together on the couch. It sounded like the makings of a wonderful evening to him.

  He had just reached her door when the door across the hall opened. Instead of the orange-haired old woman, a man stepped out. He would’ve been in his mid-to-late thirties, decent looking, average build. When he saw Mac, he gave a derisive smile and spoke.

  “If I was you, I’d just leave now. Take it from me, pretty packaging, but she ain’t giving any.”

  Mac cocked his eyebrow but kept his expression blank. “What’s that?”

  The man nodded his head to Laken’s apartment. “Take it from experience, she’s one of those prim, too-good-for-any-man types. A real ice queen.”

  “Really, I find her fun, intelligent, and warm.”

  Laken picked that moment to open the door. Mac stepped forward, wrapping his free arm around her, hauling her up against him and kissing her with enough heat to raise the temperature in the hall. Before he closed the door, he glanced back over his shoulder, giving the man a totally predatory look that said she was his.

  “I think I’m going to have to open the door for you more often if you’re going to kiss me like that.” Laken fanned her face.

  He turned his attention to her with a devilish grin. “Just staking my claim. I hope that doesn’t bother you.”

  “Not at all.” She wrapped her arms around his neck to stake one of her own.

  ****

  The next afternoon, Mac’s doctor appointment went pretty much how he figured it would. Continued physical therapy twice a week; the prognosis for much more improvement wasn’t great, though he figured he was quite fortunate. He could’ve lost the leg from knee down, or he could’ve been forced to use a cane or a brace the rest of his life. As it was, his limp wasn’t too pronounced, except when he was tired or he tried to run. He hadn’t liked it when the doctor warned him he might be facing another surgery in the future to remove scar tissue from the joint. Still, he’d face that when it came.

  Jonesy looked up at him when he approached his desk, a frown furrowing the man’s face. “What’d the doc say?”

  “About the same. ‘It’s healing good, see you in another month.’ He’ll send his actual report to the review board at the end of the week with the physical therapist’s comments.” When his partner just nodded, Mac studied him closer. “No comments that it’s going to be no big deal. You’re finally accepting the inevitable too.”

  Jones shook his head. “It’s not that. Mac, the captain sent Pearson and Tanner to bring Laken in for questioning.”

  “Questioning. You mean to arrest her! For what?” Fury burst from him.

  “Not arrest her. Just detain her. She knows too much about the murders, things that we never released. Things only the murderer would know. I tried to talk him out of it. I urged him to let me call and ask her to come down or even wait for you. He wouldn’t listen.” Jonsey looked up with sympathy in his eyes.

  “They left already?”

  “About twenty minutes ago.”

  “You should’ve called me.” Mac was already heading for the elevator.

  “I didn’t know when you’d be done. Mac, don’t do something stupid.”

  He ignored the comment, and further remarks were cut off by the closing of the elevator doors.

  ****

  Laken was just getting to the good part in the book when a knock sounded on the door. She raised her head and frowned at it a second before putting her book down with a sigh. She really didn’t want to be disturbed. It was the first time she’d had time to sit down and read in the last couple months, and she had relished it. Never, she vowed, would she let her life get so controlled that she would miss out on the simple pleasures she had.

  Her thoughts went to Mac. There was nothing simple about her greatest pleasure. She smiled as she crossed to the door. Mac was a truckload of disturbances to her senses, and she was enjoying every one of them. Things were happening so fast between them, but already she couldn’t imagine her life without him in the future.

  She looked through the peephole, catching sight of two men in the hall, not recognizing either. She hesitated, checking the door bar before cracking open the door. “Yes?”

  “Miss Laken Williams?”

  “Yes.” Nervousness settled in.

  “I’m Detective Tanner and this is Detective Pearson.”

  With her thoughts already on Mac, her insides shot right to panic. “Mac? Has something happened to him?” The words ripped from her with a wave of panic. “Just a minute.” She shut the door to release the safety bar and pulled it all the way back open. “Is Mac all right?”

  The two men looked at each other.

  “You mean Detective MacDaniels?” Detective Pearson asked.

  Laken let out a sigh at the men’s obvious confusion that meant they weren’t there about Mac. “Yes, sorry. You wanted to talk to me about something else.” She was too relieved to pick up the men’s dour expressions for a moment then she looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

  “Miss Williams, we need to take you down to the station for some questioning.”

  The nervousness was back with a feeling of dread. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t you just call? Why didn’t Mac come?”

  “We were assigned to handle this.”

  She took an instinctive step back when they moved toward her. “What is this?” Her breath caught in her lungs and became ragged. “I’d like to talk to Detective MacDaniels. I already gave him a statement.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible. He’s not at the station at the moment.”

  She glanced at the clock, stepping back again, feeling swamped with fear and the pain of betrayal. “His doctor appointment.”

  Neither man made any comment, but one reached behind his back and drew out a pair of handcuffs. Laken couldn’t keep back a squeak of protest. “You’re arresting me? Does Mac know?”

  “You are not under arrest as of yet, Miss Williams, but for precaution. Please turn around and put your hands on the wall.”

  Pain yanked at her heart again as she followed directions. The hands patting down over her sweater and old faded jeans were impersonal but still brought a sense of revulsion at being touched so. “Please tell me, does Detective MacDaniels know?” The words tore at her as she felt metal bite down on her wrist. Her arm was brought down and then the other wrist was caught and fastened. Laken flinched this time from the pinch. The two men remained stoically silent as they drew her to the door.

  “Wait a minute, my keys.”

  “Where are they?” asked the man standing to the side – she thought he was Pearson.

  “In my purse, on the shelf in the closet,” Laken managed to get out, before she was led through the door. She stood and waited while the door was locked.

  With each step down the stairs, the pain in her dipped deeper. Her surroundings faded away into a sea of uncertainty. This couldn’t be happening to her. She was being arrested for murder. A murder she’d dreamed. Where was Mac? Surely, he would be here if he knew. He loved her. He said he did, and she didn’t doubt that. But where was he?

  Her thoughts were so tied up she didn’t realize they were outside until Pearson jerked her forward toward the open car door held by Tanner.

  Fear hit her hard. She stumbled. The Hunter, he was there. He was watching. He was hunting. Panic flooded her. “Wait,” Laken cried out and tried to turn, to see if she could find the Hunter.

  The man holding her arm jerked her back around, sending pain ripping through her shoulder. Already unsteady, her foot barely
caught the edge of the curb before it slipped off and she went down, twisting it painfully underneath her. Unbalanced by her hands behind her back, she had no way to catch herself. The hand on her arm dug in, but it couldn’t stop her head from clipping the door frame. Pain and lights flashed through her head, joined by a stabbing pain in her leg as she hit the ground. Everything faded away for a second before she was able to lock on what sounded like Mac calling her name.

  ****

  Mac brought the car to a screeching halt in the middle of the street. The sight of Laken in handcuffs ripped at his heart. Forlorn was not nearly deep enough to describe the look about her. Then, in the instant it took him to get out of the car, he saw her fall and his heart missed a beat. He ran toward her, ignoring the pain in his leg, but had no way to stop her from hitting the ground, her head hitting the side of the car as she went down.

  “Laken!” he called as he ran. “What are you doing?” Glaring the other detectives away, he came down beside her. She whimpered as he pulled her into his arms. “I have you,” he murmured, tilting her head up to see where she had bumped it.

  “Mac.” She seemed dazed by his presence.

  “It’s all right.”

  A small stream of blood trickled down the side of her cheek originating from just below her hairline. Mac wanted to swear but held it in, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and pressing it over the cut. “Get these cuffs off her,” he ordered.

  “We’re to take her in,” Pearson came back defiantly.

  “And you’re doing such a good job of it.”

  “Stay out of it,” Pearson snapped. “You’ve already compromised things enough.”

  Mac sent him a fierce look at the comment. “I’ll take her to the station.” He started to fish out his own key.

  “Mac, Captain sent us to bring her in because you’re involved with her,” Tanner put forth. “You need to back off and let us do it.”

  “She’s not under arrest.” Mac fought down the urge to scoop her up in his arms and run away with her. Not that his leg would let him do that. Just kneeling on the curb beside her had it on fire with pain.

  “At least, let me get these handcuffs off long enough to look at her.”

  Laken had been leaning against him, quiet, the whole time. When he released her hands, they slid around him and she clung to him. “It’s all right,” he whispered down. “Let me take a closer look.”

  Laken shifted back then cried out, releasing him to wrap her arms around her leg, drawing it up. Mac saw the blood soaking through her pants just below the knee. “Easy.” He caught her hand, pulling it away. “Sit up here.” He lifted her to the seat of the detectives’ car then started to ease up her pant leg. At her whimper of pain, he took out a pocket knife and sliced up the well-worn denims she wore.

  He bit off a curse. There was a gash a little over an inch long in her leg. A piece of glass from a broken bottle protruded from it. “Get me the first aid kit,” he ordered, using his handkerchief once more to wipe away blood. “This is going to need stitches.”

  He looked up at Laken, who still hadn’t said anything since his name. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “You came.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

  “As soon as I found out. I didn’t know anything about this. I promise. I was at my appointment.”

  She gave him a forced smile then flinched with pain.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get this taken care of,” he reassured her. She looked so frightened. “We’ll get you to the hospital, and they’ll have it stitched up in no time. Slide on back in the seat and I’ll ride with you.” He turned and tossed his keys to Pearson. “Follow us in my car,” he ordered, taking the first aid kit from Tanner. Moving in beside Laken, he was actually surprised his command worked.

  ****

  He couldn’t get to the witch. He felt the heat of frustration. First, that man had been around her. A cop, he was a cop. Anger speared through him. She was working her spell on the man. He was protecting her. But she didn’t have the others fooled, he thought with satisfaction, thinking of them bringing her out in handcuffs. His mood soared immediately. Even though he couldn’t get to her, at least not yet, he would be the one to get rid of her. The knowledge burned in his stomach. It was his job to kill them. It was his right.

  ****

  They had driven a couple blocks when Mac heard Tanner chuckle from behind the wheel. “Pearson’s ticked off at you. It’s a good thing he’s not driving your personal car. I think he’d be tempted to drive it into a wall.”

  “Well, I’m not too happy with him either at the moment. You guys didn’t need to be so rough with her.”

  “She pulled back at getting in the car and then fell.”

  “Yeah, when Pearson jerked her off the curb.” Anger flared in Mac as his mind replayed the scene.

  The hand that rested on his arm was soothing, as was the look Laken gave him when he turned his attention back to her. He wanted to slide his arms around her, but a glance at her blood on his hands kept them in place on her leg.

  The smile she gave him was shaky. “I’m in trouble aren’t I?”

  “Nah, it’s just a little cut, five or six stitches.”

  “I mean the murders.”

  He knew what she meant and sighed. “We’ll work it out.”

  “They think I did it,” she said with a straight forwardness he had to respect.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get the guy and clear everything up.”

  She nodded. “I know, but I’m afraid he’s hunting again.” She looked like she was going to say something more and then stopped.

  “What is it?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing, just a feeling.”

  Mac knew that wasn’t all but didn’t get time to ask as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

  It was almost a two-hour wait before the glass was taken out of Laken’s leg and seven stitches put in. They gave her a tetanus shot. When they left the hospital, she also had a butterfly bandage on the cut on her forehead and an ice pack on her ankle, which was swollen from twisting it when she slipped off the curb.

  At the station, she was taken into an interrogation room where she was drilled continually for several hours, while Mac was forced to wait outside, unable to say anything, afraid they would make him leave. He knew he was on shaky ground, possibly going to be pulled from the case because of his relationship with Laken, but how could they not see that she was telling them the truth?

  He wanted to go to her, to pull her out of the room. She looked pale and so weary. He wondered when she’d last eaten. He watched Pearson slam his fist down on the table, making her jump. The man wore his anger well, and Laken tried to keep calm under it, but it was obvious it disturbed her. Mac was relieved when the man stormed out of the room.

  ****

  The instant the door was closed, Laken leaned forward and rested her head on her arms, folded on the table in front of her. She wanted Mac, though she knew he wasn’t allowed to come near her. She had heard it discussed when they brought her in and had seen Jonesy take his arm, drawing him firmly away. She hoped he didn’t get in trouble for being involved with her. At the hospital, while waiting, he told her several times not to worry, but that was impossible.

  She felt so awful. The pain pill they had given her at the hospital took away most of the throb from her head, leg, and ankle, but they all still hurt, and the medication made her tired. What was worse, though, was the anxiety that hadn’t left since she stepped out of her apartment building. She felt like ants were running up and down her neck and shoulders. She wanted to scream, but given where she was, she didn’t think that was a very good idea.

  She wished they would let Mac in to see her. She didn’t doubt he was still there. He wouldn’t leave her unless it was to hunt for the Hunter.

  What was she going to do? When would they release her? She wondered if she should request a lawyer. They said she wasn’t under arrest but she couldn’t leave. Pearso
n seemed to take great pleasure telling her that they could hold her for forty-eight hours.

  She must’ve dozed off because some time had passed when the door opened again. Her hopes for release plunged when it wasn’t Mac. The female officer directed her down the hall. Fear filled her and she wondered this time if she was being arrested. The room she was taken to wasn’t exactly a cell. It was small, barely the size of a walk-in closet. The only thing in it was a cot.

  “Do you need the restroom?” the woman asked blandly.

  Laken nodded.

  “Behind there.” The woman motioned to a spot where the wall jogged out. There was no door, only the wall giving her privacy.

  A minute later, Laken forced herself to step into the little room, and the barred door was closed behind her. Okay, so maybe it was a cell. She’d never been claustrophobic but figured that this place could make her. Still, it had a bed and that was all she wanted, though when she stretched out, sleep was slow in coming with her thoughts flipping over everything that was happening. It was hard to really believe it could all be true. She tried to be a good, honest person. And, she was in jail because she had had a dream.

  She finally slipped into sleep and the nightmare.

  ****

  Laken could feel the anger in the Hunter. He wanted to kill. It had been denied him. He scanned the bar. Laken knew the place. She’d been there before on a date. It was popular spot with the young executive, go-getter set. It was too loud for her taste and seemed that everyone was competing with everyone else. The Hunter scanned the room and studied each woman. He lingered on several before moving on, hunting for the right one. Two caught his attention, and he thought they deserved to die, but not tonight — they didn’t fit what he wanted. His gaze stopped on another woman. She had the look, but she seemed properly submissive so he moved on.

  Then he saw her. Her shoulder-length, brown hair caught the light as she strode up to the bar. The skirt of her severely cut business suit was tight over her hips. Head held high, the set of her features said she was dominant. When a man moved into her space, she glared at him until he moved aside. She then put her nose up and looked away, dismissing him as if he were a fly. Drink in hand, she turned and surveyed the room. A tight smile on her lips, she silently challenged any man to step forward, and then she would cut him down.