by Janie Crouch
She thought of stopping at another house. Of pounding on a door for help. But if she chose a house where no one was home, that would be it for her—he’d be on her. She wouldn’t have the chance to try a second house.
She had to make it to hers.
She could see her house now and dug her key chain out of her pocket as she ran, ignoring the pain of running on asphalt in bare feet. She turned sharply into her driveway, then up the three stairs of her small porch. She saw Dr. Trumpold out of the corner of her eye come sprinting into the driveway. She only had seconds.
She took a breath and focused on the keys. If she fumbled or dropped them now, he’d catch her. She sobbed in relief as the lock turned and she let herself in, slamming the door behind her and locking it. She heard Trumpold crash into it just a second later.
She knew she still wasn’t safe. Too many windows...ways to get in.
She called Jon.
He answered after just one ring. “Hey, where are you?”
“Jon.” She tried to get her breathing under control but couldn’t. “He’s right outside. I know he’s going to kill me.”
“Where are you, Sherry?”
“My house. He’s here. I saw him on the beach. It’s Dr. Trumpold. He’s the rapist.” She heard a loud thump against the door as Trumpold slammed himself against it. “He’s breaking through the front door.”
She heard Jon curse. “Sherry, get in your bedroom. Pull the dresser against the door. I’m on my way. Stay on the line with me.”
The beating against the door stopped for a moment. “Sherry, I just want to talk. Explain why I did what I did. Open the door.” Trumpold’s voice sounded so reasonable from the outside.
“Sweetheart, get in your bedroom. Right now.” Jon’s voice on the phone drowned out the one outside the door.
Sherry did as Jon said. Immediately she could hear the pounding start on the door again.
“Okay, I’m in the bedroom. He says he just wants to talk.”
Jon’s bark of laughter held no humor whatsoever. “Fine. He can talk to you through the bedroom door. I’m ten minutes out.”
They both knew Trumpold would be able to get into her bedroom before then.
Sherry rushed over to the dresser chest and pushed with all her might to move it in front of the door. At first it wouldn’t budge, so she turned and put her back to it, pushing with her legs.
Instead of moving it fell over. But it still blocked the door and that was what counted.
“What happened? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I pushed the chest of drawers in front of the door.”
“Good girl.”
She couldn’t hear Trumpold pounding on the outside door anymore. Was he already inside? Had he given up?
Her bedroom was almost unrecognizable to her, between the fallen dresser and her bed mattress completely missing. It looked as if it had been through a tornado.
“I don’t know where he is,” Sherry whispered to Jon. “It’s quiet now. I’m scared.”
“I know, baby. Stay focused. Look for things you can use as weapons if he gets in. Things you can throw. Hit him with. Candles, a lamp, hair spray to spray him in the eyes.”
Sherry nodded and started gathering items. She was facing the door, waiting for Trumpold to start pounding.
And was totally unprepared for when the large window broke behind her and he came leaping through.
She was able to throw only one candle at him, which caught him on the shoulder before he was on her. Her cell phone fell to the floor and shattered into pieces.
“Everything law enforcement does tends to be so predictable,” Trumpold said, grabbing the lamp that she tried to swing at him and throwing it across the room. “For example, barricading a door. SWAT 101.”
Had she really ever thought he was handsome? Now all she could see was a madman. “I thought you said you wanted to talk.”
He shrugged. “I admit that wasn’t the truth. I’m naughty.” He laughed at his own joke. “It was worth a try, you know? You never know when someone is going to be stupid enough to just throw open the door.”
He took a step closer to her and grabbed her by the hair, jerking her closer to him. “Like all those women. Especially your friend Caroline. How stupid was she?”
“She thought you were someone else,” Sherry snarled, wincing as he pulled her hair again. She knew she had to keep him talking, but she also felt an ingrained need to defend her friend.
“Actually, I know that.” Trumpold laughed again. “I overheard her talking on the phone to that cop love-me, love-me-not boyfriend of hers. ‘Tomorrow. Three o’clock. Be there, Zane. You know you want to.’” He said it in a falsetto voice, mimicking Caroline.
He tugged on Sherry’s hair again, bringing tears to her eyes. “The drama between those two. Seriously, it’s like a soap opera. I waited to see if he would show up and he didn’t.”
He brought Sherry’s face right up to his. “I did.”
Sherry thought she might vomit.
“When I heard about the blond hair thing, I knew it was time to retire the yellow hoodie. Oops. That could’ve been a mess. But I’m so glad you were able to figure it out first.”
Sherry knew he was going to kill her. There was no way he would let her live knowing what she knew. She began struggling in earnest.
He released her long enough to backhand her. She fell to the floor. He picked her up by the collar of her shirt.
“It’s okay, because I realize now this whole punching with my fists thing is getting old. It hurts when you punch someone, you know? I’ve had to hide my hands for the past couple of days.” He held them out where she could see his bruised and swollen knuckles. “Not an easy thing to do when you’re a doctor.”
He hit her again and Sherry spat blood, falling back to the floor.
“I’ve been bored with medicine for a while now, so leaving that behind and going to ground won’t be a problem. I’ve been preparing for that contingency for months, in case law enforcement ever caught on to me. I’ll pop back up somewhere else.”
Sherry cringed away from him as he crouched to get close to her, straddling her hips. “You’ve shown me that it’s infinitely more exciting to pursue and capture someone who knows me. Who knows what’s going to happen. It means I have to kill them, but I think that’s just the next step for me, don’t you?”
Sherry just tried to control her terror to breathe enough air into her lungs and wait for a chance to get away.
He pulled out a wicked-looking, long-bladed knife and pointed it at the side of her neck. “Now, this is overkill, I know. It’s, like, Crocodile Dundee big, right?” He chuckled again. “But I like it. It’s kind of sexy. Knives are really a natural choice for me, since I’ve used scalpels for years at the hospital. I can kill quickly and painlessly or slowly and much less painlessly.”
Sherry could feel the blade slide into her neck, the sharp sting. She stopped fighting. If she fought now he would just slice the blade across her throat.
“I’m sorry I don’t have time to play with you longer.” He kissed her cheek. “But I estimate the cavalry will arrive in about two minutes and I need to be gone before then.”
Sherry felt the knife slice her deeper and tried to make one last desperate jerk away as Trumpold’s body suddenly flew off hers.
Jon.
He had come in silently through the window and tackled Trumpold. Sherry brought her fingers up to her neck as she slid herself out of the way of where they were fighting. Her hand was soon soaked with her own blood.
That wasn’t good.
Jon and the doctor were rolling on the floor. Jon had him in height, but Trumpold was strong and had the knife. Sherry winced as the Crocodile Dundee knife cut Jon in the biceps. Then she slumped against the dresser,
feeling dizzy.
Jon got in a couple of good punches to Trumpold’s face and Trumpold fell to the floor. Jon kicked away his knife and left him there on the floor, rushing to Sherry.
He pulled off his shirt.
“I don’t think I can have sex right now,” Sherry said. Her vision was getting a little fuzzy.
He pressed the shirt against her neck. He put his face right in front of hers. “Hey, you stay with me. I want a rain check on that offer, okay?”
Where he pressed against her neck hurt and she wanted to sleep but tried to stay awake.
She saw Trumpold get up behind Jon with that damn knife. She tried to form words but couldn’t. She flung an arm out instead.
Jon turned and threw up his arm, stopping the knife from slicing into his back, although it cut deep into his arm. Trumpold raised the knife again. Jon shielded Sherry with his body, but she realized it was going to cost Jon his life. She weakly tried to push him out of the way as the knife sped toward his back again, but he wouldn’t budge in his protection of her.
Then the doctor flew backward, away from them both, as a shot rang out from the window.
Sherry heard Zane’s voice. “You’re never going to hurt anyone again, you son of a bitch.”
And everything fell to black.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Between the two of them they had eighty-six stitches.
Although Sherry’s cut was deeper and she’d lost a lot more blood, Jon actually had the most stitches. But stitches wouldn’t have helped either of them if Zane hadn’t showed up when he had.
He’d followed Jon, with Caroline’s prompting, and if he hadn’t, both Jon and Sherry would be dead.
Jon had known he couldn’t take the pressure off her neck wound without the danger of her bleeding to death, so stopping Trumpold’s attack at his back would’ve been nearly impossible.
Zane’s shot to Trumpold’s chest hadn’t killed him, unfortunately, but he’d be in prison for a long time. Sherry hoped that would give all the women he’d attacked a little peace. And she hoped Zane’s role in stopping him would help the detective find some self-forgiveness, as well.
Sherry never planned to tell Zane what Trumpold had said about Caroline’s attack. Of how he’d waited for Zane to arrive and seized the opportunity to attack Caroline when Zane hadn’t showed up.
Of course, she didn’t have to tell Zane what Trumpold said. Zane had already been telling himself that since it happened.
Sherry’s hospital room had been filled with Omega agents all day to the point where Dr. Rosemont finally had to kick them out. Brandon had been there, talking with her, asking questions, wanting to understand how Trumpold’s brain worked. Liam had come back through town and crawled into her hospital bed with her, wrapping his arms around her as if they’d been lovers for years. Everyone else in the room had pretty much just rolled their eyes and ignored him.
Steve Drackett, director of the Omega Critical Response Division, had even made an appearance himself. He was checking on Jon, meeting with the mayor, but also wanted to make sure Sherry knew that she officially had a job waiting for her at Omega anytime she wanted to take it.
They were all gone now, but Jon hadn’t left her the whole time. She’d woken in the hospital, fine once they’d been able stitch the wound and replace the blood she’d lost. He’d already gotten his own stitches by the time she was moved into a private room from the trauma unit. But she didn’t need to stay. They were releasing her tonight.
Except she didn’t really have anywhere to go. The beach house was a crime scene. Again.
“Are you about ready to go? Nurse Carreker said we’re free whenever you’re ready.”
Most of the hospital was still reeling from the fact that Dr. Trumpold—a trusted doctor at their hospital—had been the rapist. Many of them had worked with the man every day for years.
“I don’t really have anywhere to go. I guess I need to check into a hotel.”
He put an arm around her as they walked down the hall toward the exit.
“That won’t be necessary, if you don’t mind staying with me for a few days.”
“At the condo?”
“No, that was rented by Omega for work. I’ve gotten a different place.”
He didn’t offer any more information, so Sherry just walked with him as he led her to the car and then began to drive. It didn’t take long to realize they were headed toward the beach.
“Is this okay?” he asked when he realized she understood where they were going. “I got a place. It’s on the south end, not near your house or Caroline’s. But I know you love the beach, and I wanted it to be a place that held good memories for you. For both of us.”
Sherry nodded but didn’t say anything. Honestly, she wasn’t sure.
He drove in silence until they arrived at a tiny little cottage just a couple of blocks from the waterfront. He put the car in Park and turned to her.
“You are owed two weeks of vacation, which starts now. The last week you worked for Omega, which they’ll pay you for.”
“But—”
“Director Drackett’s orders, not mine. I had nothing to do with it.”
Okay, she could handle that.
“I’m also taking two weeks of vacation and would like to spend it here with you, if you’ll have me?”
She smiled at him and waggled her eyebrows. “Oh, I’ll have you. Believe me, I’ll have you.”
“Good, because I had somebody go by and get your stuff from the house. It included that red bikini. I hope you will spend almost every hour of the next two weeks in that or less. Except for maybe your cowboy boots.”
Sherry laughed and they opened the car doors. The sun was shining in grand Southern Texas fashion. She held her face up to it as she got out of the car. Jon came around to close the door behind her.
He backed her up against the car. “Just want to forewarn you, Ms. Mitchell, I also plan to spend the entire next two weeks convincing you to take that job at Omega. Because I don’t think I can go back there without you.”
Sherry wondered if she should tell him she already planned to take that job. Nah. It’d be more fun keeping him in suspense. “It sounds like you plan on handling me, Agent Hatton.”
“Oh, very much so, Ms. Mitchell.” He breathed soft kisses from her mouth along her jaw to her ear.
“I hope you’ll do that correctly, Agent. Not overthink the situation too much.”
“The only thing I’m in danger of overthinking is how to get you to fall in love with me like I am with you.” He worked his lips back up to hers, then eased back so he could see the beautiful blue of her eyes.
She smiled. “No thinking necessary. Already falling.”
She leaned in to his addictive warmth. She didn’t think she’d ever feel too warm next to him. She loved the heat they generated.
And she knew. This house. This time. They were exactly what she needed.
He was exactly what she needed.
* * * * *
Look for more books in Janie Crouch’s
OMEGA SECTOR: CRITICAL RESPONSE
later this year. You’ll find them wherever
Harlequin Intrigue books and ebooks are sold!
Keep reading for an excerpt from BULLETPROOF BADGE by Angi Morgan.
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Bulletproof Badge
by Angi Morgan
Chapter One
Garrison Travis caught the kick with both his hands before it slammed into his chest. How had he given himself away? Why was this guy so dead set that neither of them get to that bedroom? He’d eventually find out during the interrogation. This moment though— He pulled the leg with him as he fell backward, rolling and placing his opponent under him.
Screams came from downstairs. Shots, upstairs and down, had started this mess. His opponent swung and missed. Garrison retaliated, sending a hard elbow to the guy’s chin. It ripped the tuxedo across his shoulders. Always a good reason to rent. The company could reimburse the bridal shop. He popped to his feet. His opponent did the same.
Right cross. Uppercut. Double jabs to the ribs. He blocked them all and retreated. He was unarmed, having gone into the private event undercover as one of the waitstaff.
Where are the damn security guards or men from downstairs? Hadn’t they heard the shots?
More screams. Pleading through the closed door off of the upstairs landing. He rolled across the plush carpet struggling to get free. He’d been heading to that bedroom with a tray of sangria when he’d heard the shots from the back of the house. He’d sent the text message to his captain from the staircase that shots had been fired. He didn’t have backup, but where were Tenoreno’s men?
The three glasses were crushed across the white carpet, leaving dark red stains. If he could get to the door...
“Come on, man. Somebody’s in trouble.” Why was this guard trying to prevent him from getting to those women?
Right jab. Right jab. His opponent’s face flew back along with his feet. A give-it-all-he-had left to the belly doubled the guy in half. Muffled cries and threats from inside the room. He had to end this and get inside. He raised his knee into the guy’s chin. Eyes rolling back in his head, his opponent sank to floor. One more kick to his jaw guaranteed he was out cold.
