LineofDuty

by Sidney Bristol

  Headlights skated over the wall next to them and gravel crunched. Voices echoed off the walls, a reminder that they really were in public. It added a certain taboo thrill.

  Jake clapped his hand over her mouth and stared into her eyes. His gaze was still hard but his touch was restrained. He pistoned in and out of her, holding her against the truck.

  She bit the meaty part of his hand and fisted the front of his shirt. His motions became rougher. Her eyes rolled up into her head and her whole body shuddered as release swept over her. He thrust once, twice more and stilled.

  Nicole stayed upright by his weight propping her up alone. They clung to each other, labored breathing and all.

  Holy shit, we just fucked in public. Scratch that off the bucket list.

  The tension she’d been carrying between her shoulder blades eased as he slipped from her channel and smoothed her skirt down. Her knees wobbled but she stayed upright by the grace of God.

  They stared at each other, the lust burning off much of her irritation.

  “Are you going to tell me why you were stalking me?” she asked.

  The light had faded so much she couldn’t make out much of his expression.

  “I guess I’ll take your silence as a no.” She pushed off the truck and turned toward the parking lot.

  “Wait.” He grabbed her elbow, stopping her in her tracks. “I got paranoid—”

  His phone buzzed, blaring a siren call to duty. She sighed, somewhat placated with the answer. Cops were always seeing threats in the shadows, bad guys under beds. It’s what made them such great protectors, but also paranoid.

  He slipped the phone from his pocket.

  “Answer it.” She tucked her purse under her arm. “Come home to me after, okay?”

  He nodded even as he answered the line. “Vant.”

  She circled to her car and climbed in the driver’s seat. Jake was already in his truck, easing out of the tight spot. She said a silent prayer for his safety and watched him leave the lot.

  Nicole fished her phone out of her purse and followed her husband’s path, but turned the opposite direction.

  “Hey, how are you doing?” Tanya’s voice blossomed on the other end of the line.

  “Confused. Hungry. In need of a really good glass of wine.”

  “I hear you. Cole just flew out of here.”

  “Yeah, Jake just left. Want to come over?” Jake had left that nice bottle of wine at her place. It was his own fault if he wasn’t around to drink it.

  “Wait, Jake just left?”

  “Well, we were together at happy hour and he just left.” It was a broad interpretation of the truth, but it would do for now.

  “I have to come over and you need to fill me in.”

  Nicole laughed. “Sure. I could probably use a third-party opinion anyways.”

  “I’m totally biased, you know?”

  “I am more than okay with that.”

  “Okay, I’ll get a pizza and see you in a few.”

  Nicole ended the call and tossed the phone on the seat next to her. She should probably have suggested going over to Tanya’s since she had more in the line of furniture, but the decision was made.

  She zipped home and parked in her own garage. This little white house felt more like a home than the other house ever had. Would Jake consider moving back here? They hadn’t had much luck at the brick house and all their happier memories were here. She gathered her things and entered the house, considering where all the new furniture they’d bought after their move could fit. She might have to sell it and start over again, which wasn’t a bad idea considering all the bad memories it brought with it.

  A week ago if she’d been told by her future self that she would be ready to move back in with her husband she’d have laughed herself silly. But even if Jake was pulling the wool over her eyes, it was she who couldn’t walk away. She still loved him.

  Nicole set her things down on the kitchen counter and got the wine out of the fridge. Tanya would just have to play catch-up because she wasn’t waiting on her.

  She popped the cork and poured a liberal amount into a red plastic cup and drank deeply of the contents. The wine hit the back of her mouth and she shook her head. She grabbed the bottle and reread the label. It was the wine she’d thought it was, but the bitter aftertaste was rather strong. Maybe it was a bad bottle?

  She took another sip, rolling the liquid around on her tongue. It wasn’t all that bad when she was expecting the bitterness. She shrugged and decided it wasn’t worth tossing out.

  Nicole continued to sip the wine as she put her things away and fluffed the clothes Jake had left in the dryer. She stood and the room tipped sideways, spinning. Her stomach clenched and she stumbled against the wall.

  What was going on?

  Was she having a reaction to bad wine?

  Her pulse raced and she leaned against the dryer just to stay upright. Except her extremities were awfully tingly. She tried to lift her arm to push her hair out of her face, except it might as well have been cast in concrete.

  Something wasn’t right. A bad glass of wine shouldn’t do this.

  Jake’s paranoia slammed her full in the chest.

  What if it wasn’t just a paranoid delusion this time?

  She pitched forward, hitting her shoulder against the doorway, and clung to it as best as she could to remain upright.

  Her phone. She needed her cell phone. But where was it?

  She blinked at the empty house and tried to muddle through her sluggish thoughts to where her phone might still be.

  Her purse? Had she put it back in after talking to Tanya?

  The black clutch she’d carried today sat ten feet away on the counter. She couldn’t make that distance. Even now the room seemed to be fading in and out. But she had to try.

  Nicole focused on the end of the counter, only a few feet away. Her knees were trying to buckle just standing here. Could she crawl to her purse?

  It would be so much easier to just sit down. Would Jake find her if she stayed where she was?

  No.

  She shook her head and threw her weight forward, but her feet wouldn’t cooperate. She stumbled once and went to a knee.

  Her stomach was starting to churn and sweat beaded her brow.

  She pushed up, gripping the edge of a drawer and pulled herself halfway up, but her fingers slipped and she collapsed, too tired to move. It was easier to lie there.

  Why did she need her phone? What she really needed was a nap. Except there was a nagging thought she couldn’t get rid of. Something that made her think her phone was really important.

  A figure stepped into her limited vision and knelt, his face coming into focus.

  That was not Jake in her house. Her heart raced and she tried to lift her hand to push him away, but it was too heavy.

  “I didn’t expect you to drink the wine,” he said.

  Her tongue was too thick in her mouth to form real words. She whimpered. Something about the heavy brow brought back memories but she would have remembered a face as scarred as his.

  He pulled a bandanna from his pocket and wrapped it around her mouth, muting her helpless sounds. She wanted to get up and kick his ass. Where was Jake?

  He taped her wrists and ankles to each other. She clung to consciousness by sheer will and the adrenaline leant to her by fear.

  “Stop fighting it.” He pushed her hair out of her face, but there was no kindness in his eye behind the gesture.

  He picked her up and placed her on top of—something. She couldn’t see it.

  The unmistakable sound of a zipper sealed her fate.

  Diego zipped up the duffle bag and waited. The woman didn’t struggle, but then she’d drunk enough of the tranquilizer to knock out someone four times her size. Satisfied she was out, he went to the laundry room and opened the dryer. Clothes rolled round and round as it stopped tumbling. He grabbed a few items at random, one of which was one of Vant’s police-issue shirts.
r />   “Perfect,” he mumbled and pulled it on over his clothes.

  In the dark the neighbors would only see Jake Vant moving out of his house. They wouldn’t see Diego Cruz stealing away with the wife.

  Just a few more days.

  * * * * *

  Tanya knocked on the blue door, her stomach rumbling as the smell of pizza wrapped around her.

  “Hey, Nicole, it’s me.” She knocked on the door again but there was no sound from inside the house.

  She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Nicole on the off chance she’d beaten the other woman home. The phone rang—and an answering chime sounded from inside. That didn’t sound right.

  Tanya grabbed the doorknob and twisted. The door swung inward and all her warning bells went off. She slipped her phone into her pocket and pulled the stun gun she carried out of her purse. At nine million volts, it was a good enough shock to make someone think twice about coming after her.

  She stepped into the house, where all the lights were on, and glanced around for some sign of Nicole. She glimpsed her purse and bags on the counter, but no Nicole.

  Tanya set the pizza on a tray table near the front door and edged into the house.

  “Nicole?” she called.

  No sound.

  “Nicole, it’s Tanya.”

  The hair on the back of her neck rose. Something was really wrong here.

  She pulled her phone back out and dialed her emergency contact. The line rang once.

  “O’Neil.”

  “Hi, this is Tanya Westling.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Westling. Cole’s—”

  “I know where Cole is, I’m not calling about him.” Her voice rose as she edged into the kitchen. “I’m at Jake and Nicole Vant’s old house. I was bringing a pizza over and she’s gone. All her things are here, there’s an open bottle of wine, but she’s not here. Something’s wrong.”

  “Calm down. Maybe she’s in the bathroom?” His tone was patient but it was clear she was not the focus of his attention.

  She edged into the master suite but the bathroom lights were off.

  “No, she’s not there either.”

  “Did she go to the store?”

  “Her keys are on the counter.”

  “Okay,” he spoke in a brisk tone, the humoring her quality gone. This was all business. “I’m going to send a patrol car over. Will you go back out to your car and lock the doors?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Keep me on the phone.”

  She heard him giving orders to people around them. She made it all the way back to her car without incident. But where was Nicole?

  “Hold tight, Mrs. Westling. We’ll have someone there in a minute.”

  “I think we’re too late,” she said.

  * * * * *

  Jake took off his helmet, watching a patrol car with their bad guy turn out of the subdivision. Two-hour-long barricaded-person situation with no one hurt. It wasn’t a bad end to the evening, though it could have been better.

  “Westling, Vant, see me now,” O’Neil said over their comms, his words clipped.

  Jake glanced at Cole and shrugged. They’d gone by the book, so he couldn’t think of anything they might have done wrong.

  Aaron pulled his com out of his ear. “Someone’s about to get a new asshole.”

  “Fuck you, Griffith,” Cole shot back.

  “Come on, girls. I’m ready to get home.” To his wife. Who might actually look forward to seeing him.

  Jake rode in Cole’s SUV with the others back to the makeshift staging area several streets over. They didn’t roll out the mobile command center for just any operation. Besides there was nowhere to park the massive vehicle here, so they made do with a van.

  O’Neil and two suits that appeared to be internal affairs stood next to the van, gazes trained on their truck.

  “What’s this about?” Cole muttered.

  Jake didn’t like it. He racked his brain for some infringement, any time they’d stepped out of line, but he couldn’t think of anything.

  “I’ll say a prayer for your soul, boys.” Becca opened the back door and slid out.

  Jake glanced at Cole once more before pushing his door open. He approached their commanding officer and the suits, nodding to each respectfully.

  “What’s going on?” Cole asked, taking the lead.

  O’Neil’s gaze flicked between them. “Tanya called an hour and a half ago—”

  “What’s wrong?” The panicked note in Cole’s voice was loud and clear. Ever since the terrorist attacks during the Olympics he’d become very protective of his wife.

  “Tanya is fine.” O’Neil’s gaze darted to Jake and his stomach sank. “She said Nicole is missing. Patrol has searched the house and area.”

  Jake stared at O’Neil for a moment, his jaw hanging open.

  Nicole was gone?

  He shook his head, snapping into cop mode.

  “Someone has been leaving her presents. I didn’t know about it until this morning. We’ve been having—problems. She confused the presents with things I’ve left her. I followed her all day to try to figure out who it might be, but didn’t see anyone.” Why hadn’t he seen it earlier? He’d failed her.

  “We’re already looking for her, Vant. We’ve got patrol combing the area and canvassing the neighbors. Someone has to have seen something.”

  “I need to see the house.” If anyone could pick out something out of place, it was him.

  “That’s what we were thinking.” O’Neil gestured to the men on either side of him. “You’ve met internal affairs before. They’ll be assisting. Let’s reconvene at your house. And, Vant?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jake nodded and turned toward his truck, which had been left at the staging area.

  “Hey, man.” Cole grabbed his elbow. “Do you want me to drive you?”

  “No, I need to go over everything in my head without distractions. I’ll see you there.” He shed his gear as he went, and stashed it in the back of the SUV.

  All around him the word spread that his wife was missing. Officers cast him sideways glances, pitying looks he didn’t fucking need.

  Nicole needed him again and he hadn’t been there for her.

  Jake pulled out of the neighborhood and onto the main drag headed back toward the highway. He wanted to turn on the lights and floor it, but Nicole wasn’t at the house. She was gone.

  Who would take her?

  His phone rang on his hip. He didn’t look at the screen, just pressed the phone to his ear.

  “Vant.”

  “So nice to talk to you again, Officer.”

  The voice on the other end was slick, oily and turned Jake’s stomach.

  “Who is this?” Jake asked as he turned his flashers on and pulled over to the side of the road. Two other vehicles slowed and stopped behind him.

  “Oh come on, you know by now who this is. Think, Officer Vant. You’re a smart man.”

  Jake glanced in his rearview mirror. Cole jogged up to the driver’s side door and stopped, a quizzical expression in his face.

  “I’m not sure. Refresh my memory.” Jake pointed to the phone and mouthed Diego Cruz.

  Cole’s brows drew down into a line, but he nodded and sprinted to the rear vehicle. Jake would have to trust they could figure out tracing the call, if they even understood that was what he wanted.

  “Cut the bullshit. I have a lovely redhead keeping me company, but she won’t for long if you don’t stop playing stupid.”

  Jake squeezed the steering wheel with one hand and clenched his teeth. Nicole couldn’t pay for his sins. That’s not how this worked. The bad guys were supposed to come after him, not her.

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s more like it.” Cruz chuckled and Jake’s vision hazed red. “I want to have a meet. Just me and you. If I see anyone else, she dies. You know the drill. Five a.m. Do you have a pen? Write down this address.” He rat
tled off an address.

  “I need proof Nicole is still alive.”

  Silence.

  “Hello?” Jake pulled the phone away and stared at the home screen of his phone.

  The call had ended.

  “Fucking…”

  He popped his seatbelt and got out of the truck. Both Cole and O’Neil were clustered around the driver’s side door of the last vehicle, their gazes on him.

  “Did you trace it?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah, pay phone. Patrol is headed there now. Who is it? What did he want?” O’Neil had one phone pressed to his ear but his attention was on Jake.

  “It was Diego Cruz.” He wiped a hand across his mouth. “It was Diego Cruz and he has my wife.”

  An invisible hand squeezed his heart. He wanted to protect her, to shield her from this, but Nicole was out there.

  Chapter Ten

  Gravel crunched under Jake’s boots. Caffeine had his veins hopping with false energy and grit filled his eyes. The few hours of sleep he’d caught with Nicole wrapped around him felt like a lifetime away now. He’d burned through that rest and now he ran on fumes and determination.

  The dark sky was pierced by the lights of the warehouse district. In the distance the clouds were beginning to turn gray, a distant herald of the sunrise. But there would be no hope with this dawn. There were many hours to go before this wreck was over.

  There was no guarantee that he or Nicole would survive this. Hostage situations were hell on the lifespan of the victims, but he had to believe that out of all of them, Nicole would survive. She was an innocent whose only crime was loving a man who made it his business to be a thorn in the sides of criminals.

  He glanced at his watch—5:05 a.m.

  Where was Cruz?

  Jake turned in a slow circle.

  The meet spot was straight out of a movie. Warehouses bordered the gravel lot on all sides. In a few hours semi trucks would arrive to unload or load deliveries. But now it made for a warren of hidey-holes and escape routes. There was no way to guess from what direction Cruz would approach, how he would leave or even if he was operating out of the area, which was unlikely. There was also no way to get backup on site without it being completely obvious.