Not exactly what he became a homicide detective for, but damn it, he needed the easy ones sometimes.
“Please stop smiling,” said Detective Angela Parker from behind him.
“I can smile as much as I want—it’s my scene,” he said to the narcotics detective. “I don’t recall inviting you.” The words were half joke, half question. Parker was one of his favorite people on the force, but this was a murder scene. There might be drugs present, but that didn’t automatically warrant a narcotics detective on scene.
“Valdez was an informant of mine. I wanted to get a look at the scene myself.”
Derek raised a brow. “Valdez was a CI? I had no idea.”
“That’s the point of confidential. Anything seem fishy to you?”
He looked around at the scene once more, but nothing stood out. “Seems pretty clear-cut. The girlfriend says that three guys broke in the door and did it execution style, but he was shot five times in the head and chest. A bit too heated to be execution. Also, that doesn’t explain why she didn’t call the police five days ago when the murder actually happened. The door is broken, but it hasn’t been kicked in. Looks like something rammed into the side.” Unfortunately, in this neighborhood, it was believable that a rival drug dealer or gang member would kick down a door. But because of that, Derek had seen enough of these things to immediately recognize the inconsistencies in the girlfriend’s story. “We’re having the girlfriend tested for gunpowder residue right now and some officers are searching the block to see if the gun was tossed nearby.” They might never recover a gun considering how long it had been since the murder happened, but he was going to guess that the girlfriend would come clean soon.
When the police knocked in the door thanks to Valdez’s employer reporting him as missing and the smell that had been permeating the neighborhood, she’d almost seemed relieved.
“Well damn.” Parker looked around the crime scene.
“Don’t worry. There are always more CIs.”
She looked over at him and frowned. “Would you please stop being so cheerful? It’s creepy.”
Derek couldn’t help it. Not only was he actually able to do his job right for the first time in weeks, but he’d spent two hours last night just hanging out with Sam. No, they weren’t back to normal or anything, but they were getting damn close. “Nope. Cheerfulness is part of the package today. Deal with it.”
Parker shook her head. “Fine. Well, tell me if anything interesting comes up.”
He nodded. “Always do.”
Parker started to leave and Derek’s phone rang. He didn’t like answering for unknown numbers, but in his line of work, any call could be life-or-death. He hit the Answer button and brought it to his ear. “Pierce here.”
“Beast, I have to admit I’m disappointed. Not surprised. I knew you wouldn’t be easy to tame, but I am disappointed.”
Derek’s good mood vaporized as Heather’s perky voice wormed its way into his ear. “It’s only been a few hours,” he pointed out.
“A few hours? You spent the entire night with my dear little sister and yet there’s still no meeting scheduled.”
Derek mentally cursed. “Not yet. Arranging things with Claudia isn’t easy.”
“Don’t play me for a fool, Beast. I don’t appreciate it. But I understand. I really do. You don’t negotiate with terrorists and all. Look at it this way. If you get Sam to the hospital in time, you might actually have a chance of saving him. Not a lot, but a chance.”
The line went dead and Derek felt as if the room was spinning around him. The words had come so fast that he almost thought he imagined them. No. He knew what she said; he just didn’t want to believe it.
This was it. He’d pissed her off and she promised she didn’t repeat herself.
Someone was about to die.
Sam ran into the hospital and tried to catch her breath as she looked around. The place was so big and she didn’t even know where to start. When a hand fell on her shoulder, she jumped away in fear but it was just Bastian. She wasn’t surprised he’d beaten her there. As soon as Derek had called her, she’d contacted Bastian, who had raced to Staten Island.
“I found the detective’s father.” He motioned toward the west wing. They both rushed past the staff and visitors. When she’d gotten the call from Derek, she thought it was some sort of mistake. Even though she’d seen with her own eyes what Heather was capable of, it was too hard to reconcile reality with history.
As much as she hated to admit it, the previous deaths were just bodies. This was a person. Robert Pierce had a smile. He had a loud laugh and stubbornness that ran in his son. He’d talked to her yesterday. Given her a hug when she left that morning.
And then it really hit home when she and Bastian turned a corner and saw Laura Pierce. Sam’s feet stopped working and she just stood there. Laura had tears running down her face and Derek was holding her close, his own expression stoic and frozen. He looked up and met her eyes. The look was just gutting. She was this torn up about it and she only just met the guy. This was Derek’s father.... Oh, God. How could Heather have done this?
Bastian set a hand on her arm and urged her along. As much as she wanted to be anywhere else, she forced herself forward. She couldn’t look at Derek anymore and gave a half-assed smile that wasn’t at all comforting to Laura.
“You can do something,” bit out Derek as they approached. “Tell me you can do something. Sam, Heather said you could save him.” The words were broken and ragged, as though he was barely capable of speech, and hearing him like that was unbearable.
“Derek, the doctors are trying their best.” Laura’s high-pitched voice was steady even through the pain behind it.
No, they couldn’t let this woman be widowed today.
“Pierce, can I....” Bastian trailed off but glanced at Laura to signal what he was asking.
“Anything. You do anything to save him.”
Bastian gave a quick nod before he looked to Laura. “We’re going to do everything we can for your husband. Can you have a seat and pretend we’re not here?”
Laura nodded absentmindedly before she turned to obey the commands Bastian had sent into her mind. He looked to Sam and nodded.
“Come on,” said Derek, understandably eager to get to his father.
“Maybe you should go,” said Sam to Bastian, cold feet setting in.
His jaw clenched and she already knew he was going to say no. But he shocked her on a whole other level when he leaned in close enough so Derek wouldn’t hear. “This has to be you.”
“I suck at this. I don’t know how to do anything on this level. You’re Claudia’s favorite and smarter and more experienced and—”
“I’m not a witch.”
Sam’s jaw dropped and she looked up at Bastian, half expecting him to tell her he was making some distasteful and horribly timed joke. But no. He was completely serious. “But you—”
“I have abilities, but I can’t do this. You can. Your bloodline is strong and you’re motivated. Go in and it will come to you.”
“Sam!” called Derek loud enough to have a couple of nearby nurses turn their heads.
“I’ll make sure you aren’t interrupted,” said Bastian.
Sam nodded as she crossed to where Derek held the door open. The second she was inside the room, it hit her. The stench of magic. “Oh my God.” She looked to where Bob was lying unconscious on the hospital bed. Tubes in his arms were hooked up to various fluids and monitors and a bunch of other things Sam had no clue what their purpose was.
Bob’s face, which had been flushed with laughter—and sometimes anger—last night, was now pale and lifeless. His breaths were labored; the room filled with an agonizing moan every time he took a breath in.
“What happened?” asked Sam softly as she approached Bob.
“Ma says it was all the sudden. He was in the den watching TV and she heard a clatter. He passed out. Paramedics said it might be a heart attack but they aren�
��t sure.”
“It’s not a heart attack.” She reached out and brushed her fingers over his skin. It was cold. Really cold. If he weren’t breathing right in front of her, she’d be sure that he was already dead.
“Sam, tell me you can do something. Tell me we can save him.”
She didn’t know what to say so she didn’t say anything. Derek had rambled on about Heather calling him. Apparently she said Sam could do it, so she was at least going to try. Sam had more questions about that phone call, but now wasn’t the time.
The only thing for her to focus on now was saving this man. She wrapped her fingers around his and held his cold hand. There was no spell book for her to use. No potions for her to whip up. If she had to guess, Bob had maybe an hour more to live.
Heather had left him alive for some reason. Some sick game she was playing. Sam had to believe that there was something she could do.
So Sam did the only thing she could think of. She lifted up his hand and held it up, shifting some of the tubes as she went. She closed her eyes and rested the back of his knuckles against her forehead as she tried to focus. No spell. No potion. Just her and her stupidly inconsistent powers. She had to save him, not set him on fire or fling him across the room.
Damn it, this wasn’t what she did. She didn’t save lives; she ended them. She could get angry at Heather all she wanted, but the fact was she’d sent five innocent people into their graves. If anything, she was the one who taught Heather this was okay.
Maybe Sam hadn’t set out to hurt anyone, but she hadn’t suffered any consequences. The murders had been swept under the rug as if they’d never happened. What would happen if Bob died? Heather would never be arrested. There would be no reports of an upstanding family man being brutally killed. He deserved so much more.
When the tears started, Sam didn’t try to stop them. She needed this. She needed this pain. She needed everything in her to pull some magic out of the deepest, darkest corner of her being. So as her breaths got ragged and the tears started to seep out of her eyes, she let it happen. She thought back to the sweet way Bob would look at Laura. The manly hug he’d given Derek. The stories he’d told about raising Derek. This was the man who had helped to shape Derek, the man she supposedly loved. No, even if she didn’t remember, she felt it. The man she still loved. She couldn’t let this happen. She wouldn’t let this happen.
She opened her eyes right as a tear fell and landed on Bob’s ring finger. Sam blinked a few times before she realized it wasn’t just a tear. It was red. She pulled one of her hands from Bob’s and wiped at the moisture on her face. Sure enough, her hand was covered in blood.
She looked up and saw Bob’s chest move up and down but this time there was no moaning or wheezing with the breath. His breaths were normal, as though he were just sleeping. And then his eyes fluttered open.
Sam twisted away from him before he could see her with blood streaking her face.
Derek ran to the bed. “Dad?” he asked. “Hey, I’m right here. Are you okay? Does it hurt?”
Sam pushed away from the bed and wiped frantically at her face as she left the room. She was sure she probably looked like something out of a horror movie when she saw Bastian, but, bless him, he didn’t react. “Can you send Laura in please?” she said in a voice that sounded completely sane.
Bastian nodded and Sam kept her hand mostly covering her face until she finally stumbled into the restroom. She locked the door and rushed to the mirror. She’d managed to wipe away most of the droplets but there were still streaks on her face. It was already drying, so she couldn’t get it off until she got some paper towel wet with the freezing-cold water from the tap and worked at it.
It was only then she realized her hands shook. Either from the magic or the emotional rollercoaster she’d just been on. She took a long, deep breath and looked at herself in the mirror. A few hours. She’d had a few hours to relax. To forget about her sister. To sleep. To think about Derek.
A sob broke through her throat. She had lost so much. She almost lost Derek. She’d never get her sister back. Her mother was... who know how Abigail would be able to cope with this? Everyone around her was so lost and she wanted so badly to help, but she was barely holding it together.
Sam kept on breathing until she was finally relatively calm. Derek had given her so much already. So much she couldn’t remember. Now she needed to pay him back. She was going to be there for him. And so help her, if Heather touched his family one more time, she’d kill her sister herself.
“You should leave,” said Derek, snapping Sam out of her semiconscious state.
She blinked and slowly came back to reality. Unfortunately, that reality included a sharp pain in her back from sitting in the uncomfortable hospital chair all day. “No, I’m good,” she mumbled.
“Come on. You’ve been here over twelve hours and Pa is doing great. Go home. Find Heather.”
“You first,” she said, meeting his red eyes.
Derek had been at his father’s side the entire day, refusing to take the chance of leaving. Bastian had left as soon as things seemed under control, which was probably good. He had barely said a word to her and was shit for conversation.
Except Sam couldn’t sit at Bob’s side like the rest of the family. Well, Laura and Bob would probably be more than welcoming, but she knew she wasn’t family. So she kept up her guard watch in the hallway, refusing to leave Bob until he was up and out of the hospital.
“There’s nothing you can do here,” said Derek.
“What about you? I know your parents have been sleeping for the last hour. You’ve been dicking around on your phone when you could be catching up on sleep yourself.”
He cocked his head. “Spying on me, Sam?”
She shrugged. “Sorry. Bored. You know, Claudia isn’t happy about this. I completely understand that you don’t trust her, but she can have the hospital full of guys.”
“Claudia doesn’t worry me right now. What do you think a hallway of guys could do if Heather wanted to get to my dad?”
Sam tightened her lips and didn’t answer. She and Derek both knew that Heather had so much power at the moment that she was essentially unstoppable.
Derek sat in the seat next to Sam and rubbed at his temples. “I know I don’t need to be here. According to what Ma said, no one came in the house. This was a fucking remote assassination.”
“Derek, I’m so sorry this happened.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“It is. This is my family and—”
“Heather came to see me.”
She jerked away from him in shock. “She came to see you? When?”
“Last night. It was the reason I rushed home in the middle of the night.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she wanted me to. She wanted me to broker a meeting between her and Claudia, and I was so stubborn. I didn’t want to give the bitch a damn thing. I knew we knew where she was hiding out and I hoped... I gambled and I lost.”
“I’ll tell Claudia.”
“Fuck,” said Derek under his breath. “I don’t want this. I don’t want her to get what she wants.”
“She won’t. We’ll just let her think she is. Derek, even if I have to stop her myself, I swear I will.”
He nodded but she could tell he wasn’t convinced. “I was stupid today.”
“No, you were—”
“Sam, just— I can’t do this right now, okay? Go home. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“No,” she said.
“No?”
“No. I’m going to take you home.”
“Sam—”
“You said it yourself—that there’s nothing you can do here. You’re exhausted and stressed and I know where you live better than most. Say goodnight to your parents while I call Claudia and then I’ll take you home.”
“I think—”
“You can’t think. You got maybe five hours of sleep last night and had a horrible day. I�
��m not taking no for an answer.”
“Five hours is a lot for me.”
She smiled. “Come on, Derek. You know I’m right.”
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “All right. Get some of Claudia’s security guys here. Good ones. Not the crazy ones who tried to kill me. Then we’ll go.”
Sam smiled in victory. “I’m on it.”
An hour later, she parked the car in front of the apartment building she used to call home. Derek had been quiet on the drive, not that she could blame him. There was nothing to say. They needed to take their time and lick their wounds.
“Thanks for the ride.” Derek got out of the car.
She’d planned to just drop him off, but his words seemed so distant and hollow that she had to get out and follow him.
“What are you doing now?” he asked as he unlocked the main door.
“I am offering emotional support.”
He let out a laugh. “Honey, I don’t think you have enough to give.” He paused. “Sorry. That was a dig at me, not you.”
Sam was quiet as they started up the stairs. She didn’t know which apartment was his, so she followed his lead until he reached the apartment right above her old one. Even though she knew it was useless, she tried to push back into the depths of her mind to bring back something, any memory of the two of them together before yesterday.
But nothing came.
When Derek unlocked his door, he didn’t hesitate to go inside and Sam followed him. She looked around the completely unfamiliar surroundings. “We have the same coffeemaker,” she said at the strange, out of place-looking appliance in his sparse kitchen. It was the apartment of someone who spent barely any time there. Every piece of furniture looked comfortable and functional, but mismatched and secondhand possibly.
“It’s your coffeemaker. You made me coffee once and I couldn’t get over how good it was. Since you’re one of the three people on the planet who doesn’t drink coffee, you thought I should have it.”
Long and Lost (The Bewitching Hour Book 3) Page 8
