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

by Dixie Lynn Dwyer

  “Freak accidents?”

  “Yeah, some things went wrong during construction, then there were lumber deliveries that were set on fire, things like that. It shocked most of the citizens of the area.”

  “That’s terrible. Well, I’m glad that it all worked out. There haven’t been any problems since?”

  “No, and I’m planning on helping with another project over in Colton, two towns over. They’ve been approved for the same program and set up.”

  “Excellent. Well good luck with that. Let me know if there’s anything I can assist with while I’m here. Well, if I can,” she added and he smiled as they walked out of the room.

  * * * *

  The mail had been delivered to the offices, and a stack of envelopes as well as a box were placed on Donald’s desk. Grace was standing by the window looking out at the chaos the killer was causing. She hadn’t even looked at the person who delivered the mail. She didn’t want anyone identifying her as the woman who found her dead sister and the one a killer was after. People might believe she was at fault or somehow responsible.

  Everyone had cleared out of the room to give her a few minutes alone. That alone time made her feel more insecure than anything.

  Just as she had noticed the box, Donald walked back in.

  “Are you doing okay, hun?” he asked her as Grace walked toward the door. She peeked outside and saw Sandman talking to her brothers. She was sure they were discussing her new living arrangements as well as the compromise she and Sandman had already discussed.

  “I’m okay. I can’t believe this is going on. I wish I knew more or could do more. I don’t know, maybe there’s something I can help with to stop this person. I don’t know,” she told him as he stood next to his desk.

  “What more could you do? I think it’s a good idea that you stay with Sandman. This killer is bad news and I don’t think you’re safe. Sandman is highly qualified and seems very alert and confident.” Donald picked up his mail, then saw the brown box. She noticed his expression changed and he appeared annoyed.

  “What is it?” she asked him.

  Simultaneously Sandman came through the door as Donald looked at the return address on the box he held in his hands.

  “Where did that come from?” Sandman asked.

  In the same instant there was a large bang and once again Sandman was tackling Grace to the floor just as she covered her head with her arms.

  There was a lot of smoke and everything she heard echoed. She was having trouble breathing as she gasped for air but with each inhale the pain in her chest became worse. Her arms and her neck ached. She saw some blood and little black tacks were sticking in her arms, her neck and her hair.

  Sandman was asking her if she was all right and she could tell he was panicking as he looked at her arms.

  Officers were rushing in wearing gas masks and offering one to Sandman, which he gave to her first.

  Jim was by the desk next to Donald who lay on the floor.

  She was breathing into the mask as she heard the fire alarms going off inside the building. Everyone was in a panic around them.

  She tried to pull the mask off. She wanted to make sure Donald was okay as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Each move, each motion causing tiny pinches of pain around her body. She realized she was covered with little black tacks. She felt that they were meant to cause her pain but not to kill her. She knew that, she felt it was what the killer wanted…to cause her pain. The way her mind instantly thought that the killer was responsible shocked her.

  “Stay still, Grace, you’re covered with this stuff. Keep the mask on until the room clears.” Sandman told her as he held her close to him.

  She noticed he had only a few of the same black tacks stuck in his arm and he had begun to pull them out.

  She could tell he was angry and knew he felt responsible.

  Maybe he felt like he should have noticed the box being delivered sooner. But who would have thought the same person who was killing women would also send a bomb to Donald? Could this be something different? A coincidence?

  * * * *

  Grace could have been killed and I was supposed to be protecting her. I promised her she would be all right. He said to himself as John and Frank entered the room.

  The air was clearing up and the paramedics were making their way to the office.

  Donald had hit his head on the desk and was just regaining consciousness. He didn’t have any of the black tacks on him and they assumed the initial explosion scared him and as he jumped and dropped the box, the bottom of his desk took the hit.

  Grace looked at the desk. He was sure that she could see the wood of the desk had hundreds of little indentations in it. The carpeting on the floor was covered with a bunch of black tacks that hit the desk, and then fell to the brown rug below.

  Sandman and her brothers were kneeling in front of Grace looking over her injuries.

  “Get these things off of me,” she said in a panic as she started pulling out the tacks.

  “Be careful, baby, some of those are in there pretty good,” Sandman whispered, consoling her as he took her shaking hand to stop her from pulling out more tacks as her neck and arms continued to bleed. Her whole body was shaking, her lips were quivering and when she spoke her speech sounded shaky.

  “Oh my God, Grace, what the hell happened?” John asked, filled with concern. Sandman couldn’t even imagine how he and Frank were feeling. This was their baby sister.

  “We heard a large bang and then the place filled up with smoke. I couldn’t hear or see and then Sandman tackled me again,” she said in a quivering voice. He felt bad for hurting her, but he didn’t know what the explosion was or what would happen next. He went into protection mode instantly.

  “There was a package on the desk. Donald was holding it, looking it over. I asked where it came from and as he looked up at me, it exploded,” Sandman explained to Frank and John.

  “You saved my sister’s life again. We owe you man,” John stated very seriously.

  “That bomb was just a message,” Sandman stated. “It wasn’t meant to kill anyone. He just wants us to know how vulnerable we are. He’s telling us he can get to Grace or whomever, whenever he wants to. He’s resourceful and I don’t like it one bit.” He got up off the floor and began giving orders to the crowd of officers and detectives.

  The search was on for the person who delivered the package.

  * * * *

  The paramedics entered the room and Grace sent them to treat Donald first.

  He was acting funny and she was certain that he had a concussion.

  Grace on the other hand felt dizzy and light-headed. The paramedic told her it was a combination of the gas in the explosion and the trauma she was exposed to. No shit trauma.

  He had no idea what trauma the past few days had brought her. She wondered why the killer did this. What could he want from her? Who could he be? Her head was pounding as two paramedics removed the little black tacks from her arms and neck.

  “You were lucky that one of these things didn’t hit you in the eye,” said one of the paramedics as he carefully removed each tack from her body then finally the last tack from her neck.

  When they were all done, both Grace and Donald refused to go to the hospital to be checked out thoroughly.

  “You should go, Donald. You might have a concussion.”

  He appeared so serious and scared. He was looking for something in his desk files, and when she asked him what he was doing he told her “nothing.” She didn’t think it was nothing, but she wouldn’t push the issue. He was in a state right now and was trying to maintain his professionalism. She got that.

  Grace was relieved that Donald was safe. She didn’t want to see anyone else get hurt.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay, Donald. I’m so sorry about this. You could have been killed.”

  He stopped what he was doing and stared at her. He dropped the folder onto his desk, walked around the front of i
t, and stood before her.

  “I’m a tough old bastard, don’t you worry about me.” She gave him a hug and he hugged her in return.

  Grace sat down on a small brown-and-green-checkered couch. After being treated by the paramedics, both Donald and Grace moved to another office down the hall. Grace waited, knowing that at any moment Sandman would arrive and she would be going off somewhere with him instead of her family.

  The room they were sitting in was a kind of resting area with no windows, a small love seat, and a few other single reclining chairs. In between the furniture were different magazines. Grace took notice of one in particular called Guns and Ammo.

  Donald was filling a blue-and-white paper cup with water from a water jug that stood in the corner of the small room.

  The door to the room opened and both Donald and Grace turned to see who was there.

  Sandman entered looking tired and still rather annoyed. He was a huge man, intimidating, powerful looking and somewhat mysterious, like one shouldn’t underestimate his capabilities. She sure as hell was intimidated.

  He smiled at Grace then got himself a cup of water. She followed him with her eyes, absorbing the way his dark jeans clung to his long, thick thighs. She could practically make out the muscles beneath the material. Hell, I felt his muscles when he tackled me.

  “Well we found out that a delivery person brought the box to the front desk. From there on it went from officer to officer until finally reaching your desk, Donald. I’m sure in about an hour we’ll find out everyone who touched it when it entered the building. As far as before the delivery person, we still don’t know. The bomb squad is gathering evidence still but believe this bomb was homemade. There was a timer, and activator, and, therefore, a person with knowledge of its contents had to have delivered it here.” Sandman tossed the paper cup into the recycling bin.

  Grace was looking at him as he stood there so strong and serious. He was not a man to trifle with. She could see that in his eyes and in his body language, which only made her more attracted to him. She was feeling battered and emotionally drained but she needed to fight those feelings and she needed to be strong. She had learned to depend on herself and that was what she needed to do right now. It was her only defense, her only protection she had as she once again had to leave her family and her home behind her. Poor Donald could have died.

  “Explosive devices, handmade bombs, what the hell is going on?” Donald asked then ran a hand through his hair

  Sandman promised to protect her and she felt he could do it. He would try his hardest and he was determined to keep her safe. He was strong, so compassionate about his work and her safety. She had watched him as he gave orders to the men standing around him, calmed everyone down after the explosion, took control, and got organized. He had so many great qualities that she found attractive and likeable. How could she not? He was handsome and fit, standing before her with his rather large gun sticking out of its holster by his rib cage. She knew he had another one, smaller and hidden on his ankle because she felt it against her leg when he covered her body with his.

  “I have a plan to sneak you out of here. It involves you putting on a uniform. I’m going to leave in a separate car and make sure I’m not followed. You’re going to leave with one of my associates, who will also be dressed in a police uniform. We’ll meet up at a private hangar near the airport. No one can know where we are going, Grace. That means no phone calls.” She was about to object but Sandman stopped her.

  “We’re doing this my way from here on. This is the only way it’s going down. I’ll set up some secure lines when we get to our destination. You and I have a lot of information to go over. You may not know it but you could be holding the answers and the clues we’ve been waiting and looking for.”

  Sandman placed his hand over her knee and spoke softly to her.

  She stared into his dark blue eyes and swallowed hard.

  “I know you must be very scared right now. I’m here to protect you. After we leave the building separately and meet up at the airport you no longer will be out of my sight, you understand me?”

  She nodded yes.

  Grace could tell by his eyes how serious he was and she knew he was still upset about the incident in Donald’s office. He looked fierce, and as she absorbed the sight of the muscles in his jaw, she thought he was biting the inside of his cheek. God, he smells incredible. Jesus, Grace, snap out of it. I’m leaving my family again. Someone wants to kill me.

  “Do you trust me, Grace?”

  For some odd reason she did, but she was compelled to not give in so easily. After all, he was a stranger.

  “What choice do I have?” she asked him as the door to the office opened.

  Her brother Frank entered the room holding a police uniform.

  “Here’s the uniform, Sandman,” Frank said as he passed it to him.

  They left the room so Grace could change, and outside the door the three men spoke.

  * * * *

  “My family and I are putting our sister’s life in your hands,” Frank stated to Sandman.

  “I know that, Frank. You can trust me and know that I would protect her with my own life.”

  “Let’s hope that won’t be necessary. You’re going to keep in touch with us, right?” Donald asked.

  “Yes, but limited phone calls are important. Jim will set up a secure line for you here at the department. I’m good at what I do, Frank. I’ll take care of your sister. I promise you,” Sandman stated as John came down the hallway.

  “I’m going to go check on a few things and get ready to leave. You guys should take a few minutes with your sister. Have her ready at the time we discussed,” Sandman said as Grace opened the door.

  All four men looked at her and made similar comments simultaneously.

  Grace held up her hand up to stop them from continuing.

  “Stop, guys. I know. I look like some call girl stripper on her way to a bachelor party,” she said and they laughed.

  “I think you fill that uniform out nicely.” Sandman winked at her and told the guys to have her ready to leave as they had discussed earlier.

  “Keep your hair tucked in, and your hat down low, Grace. Don’t make any eye contact with anyone,” Frank told her as he fixed the police cap on her head and softly tucked a loose strand of hair back under it. “I love you, baby sister. Be safe.” He kissed her on the cheek and hugged her.

  “The guy who’s driving the car is named Justin. Stay close to him and follow his lead. You’ll only have to go by one or two real cops and possibly a reporter. Keep your hat down and walk like a cop not a sex symbol,” John teased as he kissed her on the cheek and hugged her as well.

  Grace looked at Donald.

  “What are your words of advice?” she asked Donald.

  “Keep asking questions and stay by Sandman’s side. You can trust him. He really cares about you, Grace. You have that instant effect on people.” Donald kissed her cheek.

  Grace touched the bandage on his forehead and told the men to keep an eye on her mom.

  Justin met them by the door and the three men watched as Grace disappeared down the stairwell.

  Chapter 5

  “Everything’s happening right on schedule,” the killer said out loud as the news reporters outside the Houston Police Department reported an explosion that occurred inside.

  He listened as the fire alarms wailed and echoed through the television set and police scattered everywhere.

  The package arrived on time and detonated precisely as planned.

  He was feeling good as he watched the media coverage and saw Grace’s face.

  She looked so sad those three years ago. He remembered it so clearly. Especially the way the detectives arrested the wrong man. It was so easy to plant the evidence in the crazy guy’s house. He often thought about doing the same thing in other murders he committed. It would be funny for some poor fool or enemy he wanted revenge against to be blamed for one of his killings. So
easily he could set them up. He couldn’t believe the media attention he was getting for the homicides. The stupid cops had no idea what this was all about. Shit, even he had changed the game plan along the way. Life was looking promising. He just needed to keep his cool. He wanted everyone to know it was the same serial killer. “Serial killer.” He loved the sound of it. He was famous now. But that also served an additional purpose. One that led to getting away literally, with murder.

  He was impressed with his ability to evade capture and warrant the attention of a special investigator.

  He felt a little challenged by that one investigator, Sandman. Even his name was intimidating and intense. That was one huge-ass man. But as long as he kept his wits about him, then he could continue to kill and evade capture.

  Sandman intrigued him, too, and the man had arrogance about him, like he was so strong and skillful. The killer would enjoy messing with him.

  It was difficult to get information on the investigator. Everything kept coming up classified. Even with his small connections he was unsuccessful and he feared if he pushed too much, then he would look suspicious. Right now no one had a clue who he was. He was in complete control and would be sure to keep it that way until the time was right.

  The killer was impressed with himself for getting away with his special hobby for so long. Who would have thought his ability, his talent and gift for killing, would come in handy even in his career and daily life.

  “This is going to be fun.” He continued to watch the media coverage.

  * * * *

  The police car slowly rolled into a vacant air hangar located inside a private airport.

  “So far so good. Where’s Sandman?” Grace asked as she got out of the patrol car.

  No one had noticed who she was when she left the precinct. She fit in perfectly. She thought she was busted when a reporter bumped into her on the way out the door, but the stuck-up snob hardly acknowledged Grace as she brushed by her without saying sorry. Grace laughed to herself.