by Terri Reed
Stephanie followed him through the window and accepted his outstretched hand on the other side. He guided her to the ground, and the dog leaped through behind them.
“Keep low and stay close behind me. We’re going to move along the building to minimize visibility. Understand?”
“Visibility?” she asked him. “Does Julian have a gun?”
Was Julian really that dangerous? She shuddered, thinking of all of the times she had been alone with him in her classroom. What was he capable of doing?
“He’s more worried about avoiding capture than he is with hurting you now, but I don’t gamble. Stay low.”
Rick’s long legs covered ground much faster than Stephanie’s shorter legs could manage. She jogged behind him trying to keep up. When they rounded the building, Rick called to her over his shoulder, “The cavalry has arrived.”
Patrol car after patrol car surrounded them, filling the parking lot. The flashing lights and number of arriving vehicles mesmerized her. People in a variety of uniforms and suits piled out of their cars, sprinting in different directions.
All of this for Julian? A typical criminal would not invite this intense of a response, would he? She spotted uniforms from Seattle Police Department and King County Sheriff’s Office and read “SWAT” on the back of several officers advancing on the building. She swallowed as her eyes landed on the FBI label on the side of a parked SUV.
Rick placed a warm hand on the small of Stephanie’s back and guided her to the passenger door of a blue patrol car with “K-9” painted on the side.
“Watch your head,” he said.
She backed down onto the passenger seat facing out. Rick kept his hand on the door and knelt in front of her. His nearness and direct gaze made her squirm. “Did Hale hurt you at all?”
She blushed and shook her head. “No. Julian had just arrived. He hadn’t even stepped out of the doorway before you came.”
“Did he say anything to you?” Rick eyes roved across her face, looking as if he thought he would be able to read what he wanted to know written there. But she didn’t have any answers. She didn’t know what he needed her to tell him.
“I don’t know. He said that you knew what he was planning to do next, or that you knew what he had already done, or something like that.” She closed her eyes trying to remember more, anything that would be useful.
“Did he say where he was going? What his plans were specifically?”
“No. I told you, Rick. I don’t know anything. He wasn’t making any sense. When I asked him what he was talking about, all he said was that I would know soon enough, and then he ran down the hall.”
“That’s it? You’re sure you can’t remember anything else? This is important, Stephanie.”
It felt as though he was interrogating her. “I told you everything I can remember. There wasn’t time for anything else.” She looked down into Rick’s upturned face. His expression was hard, his mouth a straight line. She knew he wanted her to give him some clue, but she wanted some answers of her own. “Rick, you need to tell me what is going on.”
He stood up and leaned in close so she could hear his words above the racket. “I need to talk to these guys and then we’ll get out of here, okay?”
“Okay,” she said, turning forward so her feet were in the car. Then the door slammed shut, leaving her alone in the silence to try to sort through all of the activity happening around her. He hadn’t answered her question.
She scanned the bustling crowd outside the car and found Rick’s tall form. He stood side by side with two other Seattle PD officers, each with their arms crossed over their chest, deep in serious conversation. Set in this scene, Rick’s natural presence and rugged good looks made it easy to pretend he was the star of some crime show on prime time. But this was real life, and somehow she was involved in it. How had her quiet afternoon of lesson planning morphed into a TV drama?
Rick’s dog waited at his side. His alert ears and long black snout reminded Stephanie of a German shepherd, but his coloring was a light brown and he seemed too small for a shepherd. Whatever breed he was, Stephanie could read the mutual devotion dog and handler had for each other. This dog didn’t fit the image she had of intimidating and snarling K-9 dogs. This one looked more like an overgrown puppy with his tail in constant wag mode.
For the briefest moment, Rick’s gaze held hers through the windshield. Her stomach tightened, and she held her breath. Time stretched, feeling longer than four heartbeats. What was he thinking? Had they caught Julian?
Rick’s eyes remained fixed on where she sat watching him inside the car. He finished his conversation and walked away from the other officers, his dog jogging along beside him. Finally, he’ll be able to tell me what is going on.
Rick opened the rear door, allowing the dog to jump into the kennel in the back of the car. “Stephanie, meet Axle. Axle, meet Stephanie.”
Stephanie smiled over her shoulder. “Hey, Axle. Nice to meet you.”
Rick climbed into the front seat next to her. Stephanie turned her smile to him. “I’m not sure what all of this is about, but somehow I think I need to thank you for coming to my rescue.”
“My pleasure, Miss O’Brien,” he said in a bad impression of John Wayne. Rick’s smile was wide and genuine, revealing a dimple in his left cheek she hadn’t noticed before.
“Did you catch Julian?” Are you going to tell me who he really is? What you want him for?
Rick’s smile faded. “No, he got away from us for the second time today.” He maneuvered the car out of the parking lot. “Our job’s not done yet. He’s still loose, and he’s still a threat.”
A stab of guilt hit Stephanie. Maybe Rick could have caught Julian if he hadn’t stopped to take care of her first. “I’m sorry I kept you from going after him.”
“No. Don’t be sorry.” He averted his eyes and quietly added, “You have no idea how happy I was to find you safe, and not…”
Stephanie waited for him to fill in that blank, but he let it drop. “Not what?” she probed.
Instead of a direct answer, he started the car’s ignition and said, “I’m under strict orders to deliver you to Terrell. He’ll fill you in on everything when we get to his house.”
Then he winked at her, and his dimple made its second appearance. “Right after he finishes yelling at you for not charging your cell phone.”
THREE
Rick maneuvered around the tricycle blocking the walkway leading up to the Watkinses’ modest blue bungalow. He gestured for Stephanie to climb the steps to the front door ahead of him. Savory aromas wafted out to them like a welcoming committee. Rick’s stomach contracted, begging him to feed it. It had been a long day with no food, and his shift didn’t end for another two hours, and that was only if he didn’t get held for overtime. Rick couldn’t help but hope Val would feed him before he rejoined the search for Hale. Nothing he could make for himself or grab at a drive-through window would compare to her cooking.
Valencia Watkins came from a long line of Latina women famous for their skill in the kitchen. She did not believe a single bachelor could cook well enough to keep himself alive. All six feet five inches of her well-fed African-American husband revealed how Val loved people. She fed them, and one bite of her cooking had forever convinced Rick he would never turn down an offer to eat at her table.
“Mmm. I can smell Val’s cooking all the way out here,” Stephanie said. She gave him a crooked half smile. The urge to do or say something to make that smile reach her eyes, to light up her face as it usually did, hit him hard.
It relieved Rick to deliver Stephanie here. With Hale loose, she wasn’t completely safe, but he couldn’t imagine her being in much danger in this place. This little blue house full of good smells and toys underfoot always felt like a haven to him.
The Watkinses’ six-year-old son, Joash, answered the doorbell. His dark eyes lit up when he saw Rick and Stephanie standing on his front porch. The boy hugged Stephanie, then he turned to
Rick and lifted the baseball mitt on his left hand. “It isn’t raining as hard now. Wanna come out and play catch with me?”
“Sorry, Joe. Can’t today, I’m working.” As he ruffled the boy’s black hair, the gesture left him hollow. Although he often ruffled the fur on top of Axle’s head, this time the motion reminded him of someone else.
Allie.
Rick hadn’t allowed himself a conscious thought about his former fiancée in a long time. It was always safer to block memories after she called off their engagement, but every once in a while a stray one like this floated to the surface before he could stop it.
Allie had always been so proud of her glossy dark hair. She would spend hours fixing it with a pile of products and styling tools Rick couldn’t imagine counting. Sometimes he would be a pest and mess up her hair on purpose, but other times it was simply an unconscious show of affection. Regardless of what his intentions might have been, Allie’s response had always been the same: ducking, slapping away his hand and moaning, “Knock it off, Rick, I just fixed my hair.” He figured the rich, ambulance-chasing attorney that Allie had married this past summer never messed up her hair like that. Rick shoved his memories down deep where they belonged and commanded them to stay put, turning his attention back to his friends in the present.
Terrell stood in the doorway and waved them inside while Joash ran through the house announcing their arrival, “Mama! Stephanie and Officer Powell are here!”
Val appeared with her three-year-old daughter, Hadassah, trailing behind her. When Val saw Stephanie, she said, “Stephanie. Thank God you are all right.”
“Hi, Haddie,” Rick said to the little girl. She hid behind her mom, but peeked out around her to grin at him.
Val wrapped Stephanie up into her arms. “I have been so worried about you.”
“Thanks, Val,” Stephanie told her friend. She glanced from Val to Rick to Terrell. “I’m fine. Still a little confused about what’s going on, though.”
Rick winced. He should have told her something during the car ride from the school to the Watkinses’ house. Even if it were glossed over, some information would have helped to put her mind at ease, but no matter how he rehearsed it in his head, the explanation kept sounding something a little like, Hey, Stephanie, you know that serial killer the news has been talking about for the past year. Guess what? That’s Julian Hale. And by the way, I sure like your last staff photo. Hale must have liked it, too, because he has it pinned to his “People to Kill Next” bulletin board.
He had never been known for his eloquence, especially with women. Eventually she had stopped asking, making the rest of the car ride quiet and awkward. He had convinced himself that not answering her was the right thing to do. Terrell and Stephanie had a long history together. He would know best how to tell her.
They all stepped into the living room. Terrell’s raised eyebrows asked Rick behind Stephanie’s back, you didn’t tell her?
Rick shook his head negative.
“Come eat,” Val said. “You, too, Rick,” she instructed. “Everything will seem better on a full stomach.”
Rick’s grinned, “Well, if you insist.”
“I insist,” Val informed him as she ushered Stephanie out of the living room and into the kitchen to help her put the meal on.
“You didn’t tell her anything about Hale yet?” Terrell asked him as soon as Stephanie was out of earshot. When Rick shrugged his shoulders, Terrell rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Didn’t know you were a coward, Powell.”
“Ha!” Rick pointed a finger at Terrell. “You just wish I had gotten it over with so you wouldn’t have to break it to her yourself.”
“Guilty as charged. Hopefully Val is telling her now.” Terrell clapped a large hand on Rick’s shoulder. “Well, you heard the lady. Check out for your lunch break, and let’s get in there and eat.” Then he added, his signature goofy grin back in place, “Like I always say, don’t try to catch a serial killer on an empty stomach.”
“That’s what you always say, huh?” Rick chuckled and then checked out on his radio. He would have thirty minutes to eat before he had to get back to work. He hoped an urgent call wouldn’t come over the radio before he got to taste what he could smell. Lunch break or not, he had to run when certain calls came over the air, even if it meant leaving Val’s amazing cooking behind.
Joash ran into the room and tugged on his arm. “Can I say hi to Axle?”
“If there’s time, I’ll get him out for a bit after we eat, but Axle and I and your dad have some important work to do today.”
Joash beamed and smacked an imaginary ball into the baseball mitt he still wore. “Officer Powell, can I sit next to you at dinner?”
“Sure, bud.” Joash was such a cute kid, with his missing front teeth. Rick had tried to get Joash and Haddie to call him by his first name long ago, but Terrell had put the kibosh on it, insisting the kids remain respectful and use his title. Rick wondered how Stephanie had managed to get them to call her by her first name.
Haddie reached her little arms up to her dad. Terrell swung her up to his shoulder one-handed. Haddie squealed, delighted.
The domestic bliss of this house hit Rick the way it always did: with envy. It was the future he had dreamed of having with Allie, although now that he had moved past the initial pain of their breakup, he could admit there was nothing about this scene that Allie would have wanted. While he had been dreaming of backyard barbecues, T-ball games and ballet recitals, Allie had been dreaming of foreign cars, exotic vacations and a sprawling home in Medina where she could host cocktail parties.
But even if she had wanted this kind of life, the scars on Rick’s stomach reminded him of the danger and demands of his job. Could he blame Allie for walking away? Some guys learned how to be a cop and maintain relationships, but the statistics proved that not many did it well. Terrell Watkins had it figured out, it seemed, but Rick didn’t know the secret.
“Duck your head, baby girl,” Terrell said before he led them through the arched doorway.
Entering the kitchen, Rick’s eyes found Stephanie’s pale face. Her lips were tight, as if she were afraid to breathe. He looked at her hand gripping the countertop, and he knew that she knew.
*
Val had wanted to eat before talking, but Stephanie wouldn’t have it. There was no way she was going to sit patiently through a meal pretending that there wasn’t a weighted secret hovering above everyone’s heads. As soon as they were alone in the kitchen, she’d grabbed Val’s arm and demanded to be told the truth.
“All three of you know something you aren’t telling me,” she had insisted. “I’m a big girl, Val. What is going on?”
So Val had held her hand and told her everything she knew about Julian Hale. Now Stephanie wished she could take it back. Maybe she wasn’t such a big girl, after all, because she didn’t want this truth. Stephanie held on to the edge of the counter to steady herself. The solid surface squeezed between her fingers and thumb gave her something real to grasp when everything around her felt dreamlike. Julian Hale is a murderer. I’ve been alone with him many times. He has killed before, and he wants to kill me.
Another question nagged at her subconscious, begging to be answered. Why hasn’t he tried to kill me already? He’s had so many opportunities. Somehow she knew that today had been the day he planned to do it.
Her gut ached as she watched Terrell lifting Haddie off his shoulders. Yes, she wanted to return to Africa and to mission work, but she also dreamed of being married someday. She dreamed of having a family of her own like this one, with kids like Haddie and Joash, and a husband who loved her the way that Terrell loved Val. If Rick Powell hadn’t shown up exactly when he had, Julian could have killed her today. He could have blotted out her future completely.
Then she remembered the worst of it. He is still out there. They haven’t caught him yet. Fear swam through her, blurring her vision.
Val ushered the two kids to the sink to wash their hand
s for dinner. Stephanie glanced at them, making sure they were out of earshot. “Thank you, Rick,” she squeaked out. “Thank you for finding me in time.” The words were inadequate, but she didn’t know what else to say.
Rick sucked his lips inward and breathed through his nose deeply. His hand curled as if he were fighting the urge to punch something. “You’re welcome, Stephanie. I wish we had caught him so you wouldn’t have to be afraid.”
As their eyes met, Stephanie tried to send her gratitude across the space between them. An unexpected urge to walk right into his arms overcame her. She longed to be held by someone stronger than she was, to have muscular arms wrap around her, making her feel safe again. It was a silly thought, though, and if she acted on it she would look like a fool. Rick was nothing more than an acquaintance. After he ate this meal, he would leave. He would return to his own life and his own problems.
Her throat thickened as loneliness joined her fear. She needed family to turn to, but she didn’t have anyone close enough to help her. She had Val and Terrell, but they had a real family of their own to worry about. Her sister was in Africa, and the last time Stephanie had spoken to her immature and unreliable mother, she was living in Eastern Oregon working at some casino. Stephanie sneered at the thought of calling her. Somehow her mother would find a way to spin Stephanie’s problems into being all about her, anyway. And her father wasn’t an option, either. He had walked out on their family when Stephanie was the same age as Haddie. She couldn’t even remember what he looked like. There was nobody. There never had been.
Stephanie had always taken care of herself and everyone else, as well. Her mom had fallen apart after her dad deserted them, leaving Stephanie to raise her little sister. Stephanie had paid her own way through school and Emily’s Bible college bills, too. She had never expected anyone to take care of her, but nothing she had faced up to this point had felt so big and so completely beyond her own ability to handle.
All of her energy was gone, her arms suddenly too heavy to lift. “I don’t know what to do,” Stephanie admitted. Tears pooled, threatening to fall.
