He was certain that he wanted to marry Alexis Michaels. Sure, there would be risks and challenges, but that was true of many marriages. Yeah, there would be things they’d never be able to do together because she was visually impaired. It would mean always having a guide dog with them, though he’d rather be in the company of Sterling than many humans he’d known. Rearing kids someday would be a huge challenge for Alexis.
He knew he was rushing things—probably rushing her—but he couldn’t help it. Not that he was going to show up on her doorstep tomorrow morning on bended knee, holding out a diamond engagement ring, but he wanted to level with her soon. He wanted to build on the trust they’d started to share. He didn’t like or want any surprises when he told her he loved her and wanted to spend his life with her—and Sterling—and live happily ever after.
“So, have you moved back to town?” Alexis asked, desperate to keep Dortman talking.
“Can’t trust you not to be recording this,” he told her with a harsh laugh. “I took a look at some of the electronic equipment you got in here.”
“That’s only stuff I use for tutoring students. I just wondered if we’d be staying in town or not. This apartment is pretty small, but you can probably find one nearby.”
“You think I’m falling for all this—this sudden change-of-heart crap?”
She had to match his fervor, his anger. He could not think her weak, though she hoped he saw her as being compliant—until she could escape or knock him out.
“Look, Len. You don’t think I’m the same person I was after going blind—after living in the dark, where I’ve done a lot of soul-searching, do you?”
He seemed to have no answer to that. But the fact she’d raised her voice evidently upset Sterling. Instead of just pacing, Alexis could hear her scratching at the bathroom door, something a guide dog would never do. Could she have sensed that her partner was in danger?
“It sounds like my dog needs to go outside—you know, just for a second,” she said.
“Oh, right.” His voice was mocking as he scooted to the edge of the couch and yanked her to stand beside him. “You think I’m gonna fall for that?”
“Guide dogs are not watchdogs or attack dogs, Len. They’re bred to be gentle and calm and to obey orders. If you’ve been watching me, you’ve seen that. I hope you’ll grow to admire Sterling as much as I do.”
For the first time, she could sense Dortman waver. She could almost hear his mind working behind those thick glasses he always wore. And if he still wore them, would it even the playing field if she could get them off his face?
“One thing that’s changed for me,” she said, fighting back the nausea that began to make her feel even more shaky, “is that I see in many different ways now. With my ears, my hands. Can I just touch your face?”
“So you can try to scratch my eyes out? I’m not really buying any of this, not after the things you done, like getting the cops on my tail. And don’t try anything funny, ’cause I got a weapon this time.”
A gun or a knife? But he’d had both hands on her. If he was telling the truth, could a weapon be stuck in the waistband of his pants or had he put it down somewhere? But so what? Even if she got her hands on it, she had no clue how to use a gun or a knife without being able to see.
“At least let me feed my dog to quiet her down. She’ll get louder and louder if I don’t, and that will upset my neighbors.” She prayed that he really didn’t have a gun—or that he’d be afraid to discharge it.
But she still wanted to let Sterling out of the bathroom. At the very least, the dog seemed to have a calming effect on people. At best, Alexis realized that if she could just make her way into the kitchen, she could get her hands on some sort of weapon.
And the electrical breaker box was there.
Though the lights were out on her floor and in her cell—the officers always turned them out at ten—Tina sat on the floor next to Corky’s bed, petting the dog.
Puppies Behind Bars—People Behind Bars. Only the dogs flourished with the care and love they were given. That’s the way it should have been with her kids, Tina thought. She should have been there for them, held them, played with them, raised them up right, not been out at all hours screwing up her life, thinking only of herself. But raising Sterling and Corky showed others and herself that she was capable of more. And despite the mess she’d made of her and her kids’ lives, she would cling to that, be proud of that.
Corky was so black that Tina almost couldn’t pick her out in the cell, though wan light filtered in through the grate in the door. The dog flopped over, closer, putting her jaw on Tina’s knee.
“Sure would like to have you with me for a demo-dog when I start my grooming business in four years, Corky.”
How she wished the dog could grasp what she was saying, Tina thought. Sterling and Corky had given her something precious. She wanted to help herself live a better life, and others, too. She’d found hope and purpose working for and with Puppies Behind Bars.
Corky seemed to nod, and put her paw up on Tina’s knee as if to say, “That’s doggone right.”
Alexis’s skin crawled each time Dortman touched her. Now, with his hands so hard on her wrists, she went numb clear down to her fingertips. He shoved her into the hall and banged her into the closed bathroom door.
“You shut that dog up, or I will.”
“If you won’t let her out to relieve herself, just let me give her one of her treats to calm her down. She’s been trained not to bark.”
“Oh, yeah? Give her something then, but I’m right behind you, babe, just like the old days, huh? And either of you gets out of line ’fore I get the treat I came for, you’ll be real sorry. I’m gonna open that door now, but that dog so much as growls at me, she’s a goner.”
He did have a gun. He must have a gun.
“I told you, Len, guide dogs are gentle and kind and accepting of strangers. Just let me take her into the kitchen.”
When he loosed her left arm, the blood rushed back into her hand, making it prickle. She felt for the knob and opened the door.
“Good girl, Sterling,” she crooned, and stooped as far as Dortman would let her to pat the dog’s head. “Everything’s all right. Want a treat?”
The Lab, soaking wet, followed Alexis toward the kitchen. Although Dortman let go of her other hand at last, he stayed close to her. Alexis reached in the cupboard for the milk bone, then decided to grab several. She dropped the first one to the floor and heard Sterling devour it. For the first time, she wished the dog were a security dog who would respond to an attack command.
“Can I fix something for you, Len?” she asked, edging past him. “Excuse me, but I just want to get some dog food out of the first cupboard.”
“Oh, yeah, bet you’d like to put poison in something for me. And I don’t like the way the dog keeps looking at you and then me.”
Yes, Alexis thought, this had to work. Because it was going to be her only chance. If she turned off the lights and tried to grab his glasses, she’d have the upper hand. She knew this place in the dark, and he didn’t. If he had a gun, it would take him a minute to get it out. She’d call Sterling and flee—if he fired the gun, the sound might summon someone.
“Would you believe my mother got me some talking cans?” she said, desperate to have him believe she was calm, ready to obey him, when she was prepared to risk her own life to be rid of this man once and for all. Whatever his plans for her, she had to fight back. Having Sterling, trusting Blair—she’d made so many key decisions lately that she suddenly wasn’t afraid to make this one.
She hit the button on one of the cans, hoping it would distract him. “Hello, darling,” the recording device spoke. “This is applesauce, though you should buy the kind in jars since it tastes much bet—”
Alexis seized the can and heaved it at the spot where she was certain Dortman’s face would be. He grunted. Had it hit him? She threw another can, another, then flung herself past him, reaching for
the metal cover of the electrical-control box on the wall at the end of the galley kitchen. She slammed it open, yanked down every breaker switch, even as she heard Dortman curse and come after her.
He grabbed her hair and dragged her back. They both went down to their knees. She had to get away from him before he righted himself.
She reached out with both hands to claw at his face and ripped his glasses off. Then he swung a fist at her, hitting her shoulder, and she did what she had been trying so hard not to.
She screamed.
Sterling growled and bumped into her legs. In the scuffle, she felt, then heard Dortman go down on all fours. Was he scrambling for his glasses, or had Sterling tripped him? Alexis vaulted out of the narrow kitchen, but she heard him cursing behind her.
What if he did have a gun? What if he shot Sterling? Was the dog still in the kitchen?
“Sterling, forward! Heel!” she shouted, but she wasn’t sure what a dog out of harness would do.
The moment she felt the Lab beside her, she ran for the door, fumbling with the safety chain with one hand, trying to turn the bolt with the other.
She heard Dortman coming. It sounded as if he was bumping into things. He was going to reach her before she got out.
She threw herself back from the door and heard him crash into it. His eyes would adjust to the light seeping in from the street outside. Even without his glasses, he might see her form against the window.
Despite the fact that it would give her position away, she seized a lamp and threw it at him. It shattered against the door. Trying to keep low so her silhouette wouldn’t be outlined by light from the window, she began to heave potted plant after plant at him. Some pots shattered against the wall, others onto the floor, but she was certain more than one hit him. And then she hefted the largest of her plants, the painted stoneware pot, and threw it through the front window, screaming, “Help me. Help me! Help!”
Sterling growled; her big, wet body stuck to her legs like glue. Perhaps the dog was trying to push her back from Dortman. Could he be on the floor?
She knew there could be jagged glass, but she was going through that window!
Yet as she clambered over the couch and got on her knees to lunge toward the opening where cool night air poured in, Sterling placed her solid body against Alexis’s knees again, shoving her back onto the couch.
Frenzied, almost hysterical now, Alexis held to the dog’s neck, then realized the room had gone silent except for Sterling’s panting and her rapid breathing. Had Dortman gone out the back window where he’d come in? Was he hurt but furious, ready to leap on her? Was he just hiding so she’d think he was gone?
Alexis scrambled for the door. The chain was unhooked, so she must have gotten that loose earlier. She turned the safety lock and bolted out into the hall, yelling, “Sterling, heel!”
She heard the dog behind her. From out on the street came male voices, no one she knew.
“Call the police!” she shouted as she made her way outside. “There’s a man after me—in my apartment. Tell the police to get Detective Blair Ryan, please—Blair Ryan!”
She heard one of the men make a hurried call as she stumbled down the sidewalk. His voice carried to her as she huddled behind a tree, her arms around Sterling’s neck.
“Yeah, 911? There’s a woman with her pet dog here and some guy tried to attack her…”
She heard him report the address and ask that they send Detective Blair Ryan. But her Good Samaritan didn’t mention that she was blind. All that she’d been through, yet for now, Alexis was just a woman with her dog. A wonderful dog helping her find her way to a wonderful life, she vowed, wiping tears away.
It began to spit rain. Someone draped a raincoat around her. Sterling kept close to her. A car screeched up, and she heard Blair’s voice.
“Alexis!” he cried. She heard him run toward her, but she pointed to her apartment.
“I think Dortman’s still inside!”
He almost skidded to a stop, then vaulted past her up the steps.
CHAPTER SIX
“Blind Woman Battles Attacker—And Wins.” Blair read the newspaper headline to her.
“My mother’s paper said, Dog Proves To Be Local Woman’s Best Friend.”
“Or did they mean loco woman?” he teased, and she managed to find his shoulder with her fist.
“At least he lied about being armed,” she whispered as if to herself.
She’d just gotten off the phone with her mother. Alexis had urged her not to come right now, and no, she wasn’t moving home. Nor was she changing apartments again. For now, this was home and Dortman was going to prison. Her comatose attacker, under police guard, had been hauled off to the hospital with a skull fracture—either from a can of applesauce or a potted plant—and from there would be going straight to jail until his indictment and trial.
Blair had offered his apartment for her and Sterling, since hers was both a crime scene and a war zone. But when she had decided to stay here, he’d boarded up her broken window and helped her sweep up shards and strewn potting soil.
“Don’t read me the rest of that article,” Alexis told Blair, who was leaning in the doorway to the kitchen as she fixed them a tossed salad. “I’m in too good of a mood right now.”
“It does mention that you had help from your canine companion. It’s good publicity for how well dogs like Sterling are trained. I hope the inmate who raised her gets to read it. You know—‘Prison-reared Dog Helps Send Attacker to Jail.’ That’s the headline I would have used.”
“That’s it,” Alexis said.
“What’s it?”
“Let’s inquire if we can take Sterling to visit the woman who raised her to thank her and the program for what they do. Sterling helped me by tripping Dortman and she kept me from throwing myself out a broken window, but the fact she remained calm helped me to stay calm—for a while, at least.”
Alexis heard the newspaper crinkle, and Blair’s arms came warm and strong around her. She stopped washing the broccoli and turned into the circle of his embrace.
“The prison visit’s a great idea,” he said. “Let’s see if we can get permission—if you’ll let me go, too.”
“I think Sterling would miss you if you didn’t.”
“And Sterling’s partner?” he said, lowering his head to nuzzle her throat.
“Could always use another partner—a human one who has been as faithful as Sterling. All this has made me see—yes, see—how much you mean to me. So, of course—” was all she got out before his mouth silenced hers.
As Alexis walked deeper into the prison, the clanging doors behind her seemed to reverberate in her soul. She had not realized what the security would be like here, layers of it. But she was not afraid, and not only because Blair walked by her side. It was the utter lack of fear she sensed in Sterling. In a way, Sterling was coming home.
It had been arranged that they would meet with the entire Puppies Behind Bars class of inmates and their dogs, but first they would have some private time with Tina Clawson, the woman who had raised Sterling. Afterward, Alexis would thank the inmates for rearing dogs for the blind, and Blair had permission from his police department to express their appreciation for the EDCs that served as their bomb-sniffing dogs—and in advance for others they hoped to obtain from the same program.
“Tina has a dog, too,” Jeannie Lancer, the PBB instructor, was telling them as they waited for Tina in the classroom. “Not only has she helped the dog, but the dog’s helped her. Oh, here they are. Alexis Michaels and Blair Ryan, I would like you to meet Tina Clawson.”
Alexis felt Sterling quiver. The dog stood steady because there had been no command, but she obviously was moved to see her raiser. Alexis thrust out her hand to shake Tina’s and realized Tina was trembling, too. The moment Tina’s palm touched hers, Alexis put Sterling’s leash in it, then bent to quickly release the dog from her harness.
“It’s okay, Sterling,” Alexis said.
She heard the dog’s toenails on the concrete floor as she stood on her hind legs to reach up toward Tina. She heard Tina’s sobs and “Puppy, puppy, my Sterling, I’m so proud of you. And here’s Corky—Blair and Alexis, this is my Corky.”
Blair, his voice raspy, too, said, “My sister and I had a beautiful black Lab just like Corky when we were growing up—not as well trained though.”
“Corky’s going to end up as a great bomb sniffer,” Tina said, still evidently choking back tears.
“Those dogs are amazing and make a huge contribution,” Blair told her.
Jeannie’s voice cut in. “Now I’m going to get out of your way so you three can talk. I’ll be right over in the corner catching up on some desk work if you need me.”
Alexis squatted down since she could tell Tina was still at Sterling’s level. “I guess you heard how Sterling helped me fight off an attacker.”
“I hear a lot of bad stuff in here,” Tina said, “but I don’t get how someone can be so screwed up to stalk and try to harm an innocent person.”
“It’s no excuse for him,” Alexis explained, “but he was deserted as a child by his mother and—Tina, are you okay?” she asked when the woman burst into tears.
“Sorry,” she said, stifling her sobs. “It’s just that my daughter’s been sent to a foster home, and no one wants my boy, and I’m scared he’ll think I’ve deserted him. If only I could find my sister Vanessa, she’d take them both, but I’m afraid I’m just going to lose them.”
“You need to locate your sister?” Blair asked. “She’s run off or what?”
“She had a sort of falling-out with my mama before she died, and Vanessa just took off. She had a good enough job as a nurse’s aide, so she’s prob’ly back working in a hospital somewhere around.”
“Listen, Tina,” Blair told her, “I may not have been able to trace the guy who stalked Alexis, but I’d like to take a shot at finding Vanessa, if you can give me a couple of leads. It would be the least I could do for the contribution PBB has made to this nation’s security.”
More Than Words: Stories of Strength Page 18
