The American Soldier Collection 3: Amazing Grace (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  Grace had been there for two days and she already loved the little place on the corner that made funnel cakes and fried zeppoles as well as the coffee hut next door to it.

  Charlie had gone with her for a jog this morning and they sat together on a bench down by the water.

  “It’s going to be hot today. It’s only 6:30 a.m. and that thermometer over there is reading eighty-eight degrees,” Grace pointed out and Charlie checked it for himself.

  “Damn I’m glad I’m working inside the office today. John and I have some new rookies we have to break in,” Charlie told Grace.

  “Well with it being so hot today you may want to break them in outdoors if you two can handle the heat,” she teased him and he smiled.

  “You’re too much, Grace. I like your thinking though. I guess we’ll see how cocky they act first.”

  “I’m sure you guys were just as cocky when you were accepted into the SWAT team unit. I have a couple of pictures of John posing in the mirror in his bedroom. Of course he had no idea I was snapping pictures.” Grace laughed at the memory.

  “Oh man. I’d love to see those. He’d go crazy if he knew that. I love it. Were you like one of those real annoying little sisters who kept nagging their older brothers and wanting to hang out with them and their friends?”

  “Kind of. I was mostly the prankster. Clara was the one who wanted to follow Frank and Peter around. She thought their friends were cute.” Grace looked toward the water again, thinking about her sister. The memory was vivid.

  The five of them had so much fun together. She wondered if her sister would be the same way today if she were alive.

  “I’m sorry, Grace. Does it still hurt a lot to talk about her?”

  “I’m sure it’s always going to hurt a little but I’m glad I decided to come home in spite of the current situation. I’ve missed my brothers and my mom so much. I’ve been away nearly two years and my brothers act as if it’s been only two weeks.” She smiled at Charlie.

  He was a real nice guy and very good looking. She had met his girlfriend last night when she accidentally walked in on them making out in the kitchen.

  “Are you ready to go back? Maybe we should bring coffee with us.” Grace smiled at Charlie. He knew how much she liked the coffee hut. The guys liked it, too.

  “Yeah let’s bring back coffee. Your brother John is going to need it. He was out until 3:00 a.m. with Maggie.”

  Grace smiled.

  “I don’t think we’re supposed to know about her.” Grace giggled.

  “I think you’re right. He has been hiding their relationship. I guess he figures she works in the department and it could cause some problems.”

  “Well you would think that if we know about her, then I’m sure half the department knows about them. Why hide it?”

  They ordered five coffees to go.

  “Maybe he’s afraid you’ll sneak up on them with a camera snapping pictures,” Charlie added jokingly.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about walking in on you and your girlfriend. I’m sure it has been kind of an inconvenience having a woman living in your bachelor pad. I’ve invaded your privacy.”

  They headed back to the house carrying the cardboard holders filled with steaming coffee cups.

  “Are you kidding? That dinner you cooked last night alone is worth you staying with us as long as you need to.” Charlie rubbed his belly. “I made a pig out of myself,” he added as they laughed.

  They turned the corner and headed up the street to the house. It was an older home with a nice large backyard the guys often had barbecues in and a nice wraparound front porch to sit on and look out toward the water. They were laughing together as she and Charlie headed up the steps.

  Leaning against the front door was a large yellow envelope addressed to Grace.

  “Who delivers this early in the morning?” Grace asked and Charlie followed her inside. They brought the envelope and the coffee into the kitchen.

  John and Mark were in there as well as Jerry, their other roommate.

  They said good morning and handed out the coffees as Grace set the envelope down on the kitchen counter.

  “Late night there, brother?” Grace teased John as he yawned and added sugar to his coffee cup. The other guys began to laugh.

  John gave his sister a light punch in the arm and she giggled then drank down a bottle of water. She didn’t even feel sweaty anymore because the guys had the air-conditioning on sixty-six degrees. It was like walking into a refrigerator.

  She took a seat between John and Charlie then began to open the envelope.

  She reached inside and found two other envelopes.

  The first one showed pictures of a young woman with long brown hair standing in front of the coffee hut down by the marina. Grace recognized it immediately.

  “I don’t know who this is,” Grace said as she handed the picture to her brother and the others looked at it.

  “Where did you get the envelope?” John asked, still tired from his late night as he rubbed the sand out of his eyes and took another rejuvenating sip of hot caffeine

  Grace then opened the other envelope.

  She let in a large gasp of air and took a step back. When she saw the contents of the envelope, she dropped everything.

  The guys looked. The picture that fell on the floor was that of the once-stunning brunette, now beaten and murdered.

  The killer had enclosed a lock of her hair, which was covered in blood as well.

  Grace had touched it.

  She never even looked at the note that came along with it.

  Time stood still in Grace’s mind. She was speechless and unaware of the chaos that went on around her in the kitchen.

  It felt more like minutes that the police were at the house and detectives arrived.

  Grace couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t even sure this was happening as her brother and Charlie kneeled down on the floor near her chair and tried to comfort her.

  John was so angry. He never even thought to open the envelope first. This was serious and his sister was in grave danger.

  “It’s all right, Grace, everything is going to be okay.” John squeezed her shoulders and became angrier and angrier as he looked at the way she stared at her fingers. She held the locks of a dead woman’s hair in her hands.

  “She’s dead, John. Oh my God, that poor, beautiful, young woman is dead and she was right down the street. He knows I’m here. Whoever this is found me.”

  The detectives arrived, packaged the evidence preparing to deliver it all to the crime lab. Grace went upstairs to the bathroom to try and remove the sensation of touching the hair from her hands. It was disgusting.

  She closed the door, and the instant she was alone, she began crying.

  She was scrubbing her hands so hard. She thought it was still on her hands as she kept scrubbing and scrubbing, shaking her head in disbelief.

  She closed her eyes and saw the pictures first of the pretty brunette, then of her beaten, and murdered.

  In her mind she saw images of Clara’s body in the woods and the dirty fingers with pink nail polish on them, one horrible vision after the next.

  The killer was still out there and now he was taunting her. Grace wondered why he wanted to cause her so much pain. She cried for the woman in the picture. She cried for her sister. How would she get through this? No one would be safe around her. She needed to go away. She thought to herself as she dried her hands then covered her face with them. She wiped the tears away, wanting to stay strong, but her whole body practically shook in defeat.

  Suddenly the bathroom door opened and she jumped. She was edgy and so scared as she reached back behind her, bracing the cold, white, porcelain sink.

  Sandman appeared in the doorway and she instantly turned, trying to hide her face, her tears, and the fear she had as she held her hands in place, trying not to fall to her knees.

  * * * *

  Sandman closed the door. He knew Grace was tryin
g to stay strong but she was pale and shaking as he made his way swiftly toward her, turning her around, and pulling her into his arms. She held back the tears, not wanting to need anyone or show her fears and emotions

  He hugged her, holding her tightly, rubbing her head and her hair.

  He could feel her shaking, trying not to cry. She was trying so hard to be strong.

  The events of the last week were weighing on her. First receiving the news that one of her friends had been killed, then being shot at, and now holding evidence of a murdered young woman in her hands. She was amazingly strong and if this killer got more intense and was determined to kill Grace, then she would need all that strength, then some.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened,” he whispered, truly wishing that it hadn’t.

  He’d heard the news and raced his car to the house ignoring every traffic light and stop sign along the way. He had to get to her. He should have listened to his gut, his instinct when it told him to place Grace in protective custody. Her brothers were adamant about being involved and he didn’t want to cause any unnecessary friction between the departments. But he was a specialist, only called in for cases like this one.

  Grace had been on his mind constantly in New York. He was worried about her safety. The killer was after her and she needed protection. She was not going to stay with her brother and his friends anymore. He was taking her with him. Where he could protect her.

  Sandman was a highly trained professional killer and whoever was responsible for these murders meant business. It should be obvious to everyone now.

  He was a classic psychopath. He had no fear, no concern about being caught. He just walked up the steps of the house, right to the front door, and left that disgusting envelope for Grace.

  A house where four trained officers lived and believed they were protecting this delicate woman in his arms.

  He was angry and disgusted at the thought of what just happened.

  He knew he had to protect her and he told himself it had nothing to do with the physical attraction. She needed his professional training.

  Grace looked up at him, her beautiful hazel eyes full of fear and sadness. She was scared and so upset. Now she pulled away, embarrassed.

  He reached up and touched her face.

  She turned away and lowered her eyes. The attraction wasn’t there for her like it was for him. What did he know? He never had a serious relationship in his life. Just like his two brothers, Duke and Big Jay, they waited for that special someone to love and share together. As others around them found it, they remained alone. This situation shouldn’t be misconstrued by him to mean anything other than his professional responsibility. Snap out of it, Sandman. You’re a man made of stone.

  Sandman’s hand fell back to his side. “It’s going to be all right, Grace. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

  Chapter 4

  Sandman was talking to Roger and Donald. They now had a copy of the letter that was sent to Grace. As Sandman absorbed the words, he had a combination of a reaction. Initially, he was angry that something like this was happening to such a beautiful woman who had experienced personal tragedy in her life. Then came his professional response. Every part of his instincts told him that the person responsible knew Grace and her family and what happened to her sister. He had a suspicion that this same person was the one who killed Clara. It was as if this individual wanted to punish her and put fear into Grace. As far as he was concerned, it was working.

  Sandman checked out the letter. He read it line for line and wondered what it all meant. Was there a clue in here somewhere?

  My treasure has returned to me,

  Thousands and thousands of miles across the sea.

  I’ve yearned for you so very long,

  Through every lover, through every love song.

  I’m watching every move you make, every place you go and see,

  Knowing when the time to take and capture you, make love to thee.

  Grace, my love, you cannot hide,

  I take her now, thoughts of you inside.

  Sandman finished reading the letter and handed it back to Donald. He felt that the detective was sincere in his concern over Grace and her family. From what Jim had explained earlier, Donald was the lead investigator in Grace’s sister’s disappearance and murder almost three years ago. He felt responsible and was personally affected by this. He looked at him.

  “So this guy has been leaving these letters only after the recent killings? How do you know he’s connected to the others?” Donald asked. He was angry. Sandman could tell.

  “He does the same things to each of his victims. He uses the same equipment and restraints. Even though the letters only recently started, we feel it’s the same person. The killer is trying to spice things up now. He needs more excitement. Grace’s picture and name have only recently entered the crime scenes,” Detective Jim Warner stated.

  “Why Grace? She’s been away for nearly three years. This letter sounds like he’s known that and has been waiting for her. Why didn’t he follow her to Europe?” Donald asked.

  “There could be many reasons for that. It’s a whole different ball game to commit a crime in another country, out of his familiar surroundings. It would be more likely for him to get caught. Or he could have liked the idea of waiting for her like an award, a goal to achieve. You have to remember, Donald, we’re talking about a real psycho here. He’s ruthless, daring, and violent and believes no one is capable of stopping him. He’s gotten away with so much for so long,” Sandman stated.

  “Grace needs your protection, Investigator Sandstone. She needs to be kept hidden and safe. She won’t be able to handle the emotional effects of this. She needs to be safe or he could catch her and kill her at any time.” Donald stood up from the chair, a look of concern evident on his face.

  “I know, Donald, that’s what I want to talk to you about. She’s already feeling responsible for these women getting murdered. That’s this guy’s sick plan. He’ll break her down, make Grace feel powerless. We need to take her out of the equation while Jim and my other investigators track this piece of shit down.”

  “Other investigators?”

  “Yes, I’ll explain it to you and also my idea,” Sandman said as they walked out of the house and onto the driveway.

  * * * *

  An hour later Grace sat in Lieutenant Donald Friedman’s office at the Houston Police Department.

  “Grace, honey, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry this happened to you. I’m going to do my best to protect you and your family,” he said as he sat across from Grace.

  “I just don’t understand who would want to do something like this? I’ve been over this a thousand times in my mind. I didn’t know any of the other women who were murdered. I only knew Cheryl and of course my sister. Everything was fine in Europe. I should have stayed there. My poor mother must be going through hell right now.”

  “Personally, I think that you’re better off here in the United States, at home where we can protect you. Eric is with Sarah and I’ve stationed an officer at her house at all times,” Donald replied but Grace still felt so unsure and on edge.

  “I appreciate that, Donald. I want to help in this investigation as much as I can. Can you tell me more about the other murders this person has committed? I mean, Sandman and Jim haven’t really filled me in on anything.”

  “I’ve been kept out of the loop since the shooting at your mom’s house. This is their investigation. I kind of feel responsible for not catching this asshole, and I have the feeling that these investigators and detectives don’t think I’m seasoned enough to handle it.”

  “That’s not right. You were there when Clara went missing and you did your best to solve the crime. Nothing like that had ever occurred in our town. Sure you don’t have the same training as an investigator in the city but you did what you could.”

  “Yeah, and got the wrong man placed behind bars.” Donald ran his fing
ers through his hair. Grace couldn’t help but feel bad for him. Donald was a good man and a good family friend.

  “The only other information I know, Grace, is that all the women killed so far have similar resemblances. Other than that there’s nothing to go by. The murders are at number eleven. Once they find the young woman in those pictures the killer sent to you—”

  The knock on the door interrupted his sentence but Donald didn’t need to finish. She got it. The number would be at twelve.

  “I knocked this time. Are you happy?” Sandman teased Grace, and she gave a small smile.

  * * * *

  Sandman hadn’t liked leaving her out of his sight, even while he made plans and organized the detectives. He watched her closely as she gave him a small smile. She looked sad. Her eyes were still red and she appeared drained and tired. He wanted to hold her again and keep her safe in his arms. He was so attracted to her and instantly felt the need to protect her. No matter where he was or what he was doing, she was on his mind. He never had a reaction like this to a woman before. He actually thought that his heart had grown solid as a rock. Nothing really got to him or bothered him. In his profession he focused on the goal of capturing the criminal, solving the crime, and then heading home to his ranch to recoup before the next job. His brothers noticed the change in him yesterday, and when he told them about Grace, they were intrigued by her.

  As Grace watched him, hesitating to respond to his teasing statement, he approached and placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s going on? Any news yet about the woman in the picture?” she asked him, and he was impressed with her strength.

  He squeezed her shoulder lightly before removing his hand.

  “I don’t want you to worry about that. You look like you could use some rest,” he told her and Donald agreed.

  “Can we go back to the house now or are the detectives still there?” she asked.