“Let’s go over the lineup.” Ash looked at the clip board she had in her left hand, and made an effort to keep her mind and her eyes from wandering to Emma. She went over each child’s position, and showed them which ‘x’ they were on the game grid.
“But coach, I want to be goalie this week.” Nathan Reynolds was Ash’s least favorite member of the team. He was a whining child who always, regardless of the time of year, had a runny nose. His mother was overbearing and operating under the misconception that her son was the next David Beckham . The truth of the matter was Nathan could barely tie his cleats, much less play soccer.
“Nathan, we talked about this at practice. You’re not ready for goalie, so you’re going to stick with right wing defender.” She knew his mother would be over in short order when the game started to point out Ash’s mistake.
“But I-” The boy’s voice instantly went up an octave to a full-on whine.
Ash shook her head at the boy. “Zip it, Nathan.” The boy bit his lower lip and fell silent, obviously deterred by Ash’s stern tone.
Ash continued her field assignment announcements as Aiden ran up and stood on the outskirts of the huddle. She glanced over at the sideline, and saw Michael stop when he noticed Emma. After several seconds, Ash’s brother was smiling as he walked the woman over toward where Amy stood. Ash watched as pleasantries and handshakes were exchanged.
“Coach?” Cory brought Ash back to the task at hand.
Ash cleared her throat. “Sorry. Everyone remember to have a good time, and if at all possible, win.” She put her right hand into the center of the huddle. “Okay, everyone in.” Ten small hands clustered over Ash’s larger hand.
“Wait for me!” Rebecca came charging from the end of the field nearest the restrooms, and flung herself into the huddle, setting off a round of giggles.
“Quiet down, everyone, and hands in!” Ash refocused the exuberate team. “On three. One, two, three - aaahoooww!” The kids threw their heads back and howled like coyotes, then broke ranks and sprinted to their positions.
Ash jogged to the sideline, trying not to look at Emma standing next to her brother and sister-in-law. Luckily the coach from the other team walked toward her, giving her the perfect excuse to not interact, and in her nervousness, embarrass herself.
“Hey Ash, your kids look good.” Leo Maltin was a retired Air Force Major, and coached his grandson’s team the Tigers.
Ash smiled, and shook the man’s outstretched hand. “Thanks Leo. Yours too.”
The two parted ways, and stood in their respective spots along the sideline. Ash took a deep breath, and turned towards Emma who stood twenty feet to her right.
She felt a blush rise in her neck and face when she realized Emma was staring intently at her. Her friend’s piercing blue eyes were covered by a pair of black, wire frame, aviator style Ray-Ban sunglasses, but she was clearly looking right at Ash.
Ash smiled, nodded and waved to her friend. “You made it.”
Emma flashed a brilliant smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. They’re adorable.”
Ash exhaled and tried to focus her attention back on the kids, but Emma managed to look stunning in a pair of faded Levi’s blue jeans, blue Puma leather tennis shoes, and a light blue Puma zip-up jacket. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun at the base of her neck that Ash wanted desperately to kiss.
The whistle signaling the start of the game pulled Ash’s attention away from Emma, and she vowed to keep it on the game. “Keith, that’s your ball.” Ash yelled as the nine year old redhead boy stood watching the ball roll past him.
The kids were taking her instructions to hold their positions too literally, and not moving to meet the ball if it was outside their zone. “Run to the ball, Keith, don’t wait for it.” Ash instructed.
“Coach Haines.” On cue, Nathan’s mother Melissa walked up and stood next to Ash. The woman was in her mid-thirties, overly tan and about twenty pounds too thin. She looked sharp and edgy, and had the personality to match.
“Hi, Melissa.” Ash continued to watch the kids as they moved the ball back and forth down the length of the field.
“I thought Nathan was going to play goalie.” The pinched woman asserted.
Ash looked over at Nathan, who in spite of having the ball roll directly to him, kicked and completely missed it. “His eye foot, and eye hand coordination isn’t what it could be, and he needs to master the basics before being put in the goal.”
“My husband works with him every night, and I know if you gave him a chance, he would surprise you.” The woman crossed her arms and stood stiff shouldered next to Ash.
Ash had dealt with difficult parents in the past, and Melissa wasn’t being any more demanding than usual, but between the stress at work, her unrequited attraction standing twenty feet away, and the recent blow to the head by god only knew what, Ash’s patience wasn’t what it could be. She turned and squarely faced Melissa.
“Melissa, there are eleven kids on this team. Nathan is the least effective, and your husband practicing with him every night doesn’t automatically translate to a great player.” Ash paused long enough to witness the woman’s jaw drop. “If you don’t like the way I coach the team, Nathan’s participation is entirely voluntary.”
Melissa clamped her jaw shut, and narrowed her eyes. “My husband and I will definitely be discussing Nathan’s future with the Coyotes. We’ve already considered moving him to another team because clearly his talents are being wasted with you.”
Ash nodded enthusiastically. “That’s great Melissa, you and the husband discuss it. We don’t want little Nathan feeling wasted.”
Ash turned her attentions back to the game, leaving the other woman no other option but to stomp off in a huff. By half time, the Coyotes were up one to zero against the Tigers. The kids charged off the field, and grabbed the bottles of water and orange slices waiting for them on the sidelines.
“Good half, guys.” Ash was proud of the team. They had been passing to each other well, and taking the ball down the field aggressively. “Okay, pair off, grab a parent and go to the restroom.” Several designated parents walked over and began gathering the team for restroom breaks. Ash had learned her lesson the first season she coached when she lost half her team midway through the second half to emergency pee breaks.
“They’re really good.” Emma’s voice came from behind Ash as she watched the kids scatter.
Ash turned around and couldn’t help but smile at Emma. “They’re doing great. I told them my friend came to watch them and if they sucked they were going to get it.”
Emma laughed. “You did not.”
Ash grinned. “No, but I thought it really hard.” She looked around. “Coleen couldn’t make it?”
Emma shook her head. “She was busy. Besides, I was hoping we could have lunch after, and I thought three might be a crowd.”
Ash wished she could see Emma’s eyes, because she thought by her tone she might have been flirting with her. “So you’re not into that?” Ash smirked.
Emma shrugged. “I don’t share well.” Ash hoped her mouth wasn’t hanging open from shock.
“Aunt Ash, can I have more oranges?” Aiden ran up and stood between the two women.
Ash looked down. ‘What?”
“Can I have more-” Aiden looked up at Emma. “Are you a friend of Aunt Ash’s?”
Emma squatted down so she was eye level with the boy. “I’m Emma, and you must be Aiden. You’re a very good soccer player.”
The boy’s face lit up. “Thanks! Aunt Ash is really cool and spends a lot of time with me. We practice a lot.”
Emma looked up at Ash, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression on her face. “Your aunt is very cool.”
Ash’s stomach did a small, excited flip. She put her arm around the boy’s shoulders and squeezed affectionately. “Aiden, why don’t you go get those oranges, okay?”
“Nice to meet you, Emma.” Aiden shouted over his shoulder as he made h
is way to the bench and the ice chest full of oranges.
Emma stood up and faced Ash. “He has your eyes.”
Ash watched the brown haired boy pull four orange slices out of the cooler, barely managing not to drop them. “And my appetite, evidently.” She looked back at Emma, and felt a surge of affection for the woman. “Have you ever considered having any of your own?”
A dark cloud passed over Emma’s eyes, and she looked toward the ground. “No.”
Ash wasn’t sure what the backstory was, but given Emma’s reaction to the question, clearly it was a source of sadness for her, and nothing she wanted to talk about.
“Speaking of your appetite - lunch?” Emma managed a smile.
Ash wanted nothing more than to spend the afternoon with Emma, but it seemed fate was against them. “I have to go to work right after this. I barely have time to change.”
Emma looked Ash up and down. “What’s wrong with what you’re wearing?” she asked coyly.
Ash looked down at her outfit. She was wearing a pair of black Adidas turf shoes, white ankle socks, black Umbro shorts, and a green Nike pro fit long sleeve shirt. “Besides being hell and gone from business casual, I try not to go to work looking like a bum.”
Emma frowned. “You have to know you’re gorgeous in anything?” For the second time in their short exchange, Ash was speechless. The doctor continued, unfazed by her friend’s lack of response. “Dinner then?”
Ash managed to muddle through a response. “Ah, sure. My shift is over at eight. Is that too late?” She barely heard what she said over the beating of her heart.
The doctor glanced over Ash’s shoulder. “Your brood is back.” Nodding toward the group of children sprinting across the field, Emma put her hand on Ash’s shoulder and squeezed gently. ”Good luck, and I’ll text you the restaurant information for eight.”
Watching Emma walk back over to where Amy and Michael were, Ash wasn’t sure what had just transpired between her and the usually reserved doctor, but she could definitely get used to it.
***
Cris called Ash while she was driving toward the station, and told her the manager of an hourly motel near Fort Sam Houston had tipped them off to a man who they had asked to leave after the maid found several knives and a set of altered dentures in his bathroom.
“Altered dentures?” Ash asked as she took the turnaround off of the expressway, and began driving in the direction of the motel.
“That’s what the manager said.” Cris was out of breath as he jogged toward his car. “Getting in my car now. I have six uniforms in route.” Ash heard the engine of her partner’s car start. “The guy is packing up as we speak.”
“Guns?” Ash asked.
“Not that the maid saw. She was pretty rattled, according to the manager.” Cris responded quickly.
“Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” Ash hit the end button, and sped up.
Ash parked her Jeep on a side street, then unclipped her black leather holster strap, and tapped the Glock 17 with her thumb as she got out of the car. She came around the side of the blue trimmed, stucco Blackbird Motel.
The building had seen better days, evident by the faded trim, and weeds that had grown through cracks in the concrete path leading toward the center of the U-shaped, single story complex.
One of the three patrol cars was parked near the entrance to the motel’s small parking lot. Ash didn’t know the petite woman standing next to the cruiser. Ash took her badge out. “Detective Haines.”
The woman nodded, her brow furrowed. “Beckett.”
“What’s happening here?” Ash didn’t like how quiet it was. If Cris and five officers went in, they should be either hauling the perp out by now, or coming out empty handed.
“Four officers went in through the courtyard. Detective Martinez put another uniform around the back.” Beckett pointed to a dirt walking path that disappeared around the side of the building.
“When was this?” Ash asked as she scanned the building.
“Five minutes, maybe six. Room seven.” The officer looked at her oversized sports watch.
Ash shook her head. Cris hadn’t waited for her. No doubt he was worried the guy was already on his way out, and Cris would try to contain any possible scene in the motel as opposed to bringing it out onto a trafficked city street.
A single gunshot broke through the sound of passing cars behind Ash. A surge of adrenaline shot through her like the shock of icy cold water. Pulling her gun, she began to run toward the motel. “Call for backup!” She yelled over her shoulder.
Taking cover at the corner leading into the courtyard of the motel, Ash willed herself to breathe. Her gun raised she quickly looked around the corner, and then pulled back behind the wall. The courtyard was empty, and by Ash’s count, the door to room seven was ajar.
She slid around the corner, and crouching low, stayed close to the wall of the walkway as she made her way toward the open door.
Not sure if the gunshot came from the suspects or one of the officers, Ash pulled at the strap of her Kevlar vest under her blouse. Not all detectives wore theirs, but she had promised her mother when she was still in uniform that she would always wear hers. It wasn’t always the most flattering look, but the alternative seemed less appealing.
Crouching down near the door to room six, Ash couldn’t see any movement in the darkened room next door. “San Antonio Police Department. Exits are covered. Come out with your hands so I can see them!” She intentionally forced her voice into a lower octave because the mixture of nervous and excited energy coursing through her body was causing her throat to tighten.
Counting to ten in her head, Ash slid along the walkway toward the open door. Staying low and in a crouched position, she quickly looked in the room, and then pulled her head back. The heavy, polyester, orange checked curtains had been pulled shut, and blocked the ambient light from outside.
The smell of rotted meat and wet leaves, mixed with sweat and blood wafted out of the room, causing Ash’s stomach to sour.
She knew that smell, and the realization of what awaited her in the darkened room settled over her like a repressive, numbing heat. She felt perspiration begin to form on the back of her neck, and her heart rate, which had already been elevated, became dangerously rapid.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Ash wiped at her face with the back of her hand. “Cris?” She waited with hope her partner would be able to respond. She knew she should wait for the backup, but clearly people were down, and more than likely injured, in that room.
“Police officer!” Ash announced her entry as she positioned her upper body so it was half exposed to the room. Keeping her weapon close to avoid having it knocked from her hand, Ash lunged into the room, rolled across the thick shag carpet, and righted herself onto her knees as she quickly scanned the corners of the room.
The sleeping area was clear, and the bathroom door was open, revealing a broken window leading to the alley behind the motel. Ash stood up and for the first time could see the floor on the other side of the bed. Strewn between the bed and the door to the bathroom were bits of flesh and bone. Reaching behind her, Ash fumbled and found the light switch on the wall.
The single bulb over the bed illuminated the room. The walls and ceiling were covered in blood. Ash looked down, and saw her own pants were soaked with blood from when she was kneeling on the carpet. Gun still raised, she moved around the bed until she stepped on something soft and pliable under her foot.
Looking down, Ash’s eyes widened as she recognized what was left of a severed human hand. She stumbled back toward the open door, the room closing in on her. She stepped out into the courtyard and immediately bent over and vomited.
A gut wrenching sob escaped from Ash’s chest, as the image of the severed hand flashed before her eyes. On the ring finger of the mangled limb was a single gold braided band Cris had worn every day of his twenty-three year marriage.
Chapter 11
“Miller, I swea
r to fucking god if you don’t keep these people back I will personally get you busted down to reading parking meters.” Lieutenant Edwards slid under the yellow crime scene as he reprimanded a tall, lanky officer who looked to be in his mid-twenties.
The motel courtyard had been corded off and the street in front of the motel, along with the alley behind it, had been blocked. Ash could hear the sound of car horns as exasperated drivers sat in gridlock.
Ash stood near the back of one of three crime scene vans on site. The dried blood on her pants had caused them to stiffen and cling to her legs.
“Lieutenant.” She walked toward the man, who in the nearly ten years she had known him had never looked so tired. His face was red, and his eyes bloodshot. Ash knew better than to ask if he had been crying, knowing full well he wouldn’t respond honestly.
“Haines, what the hell are you still doing here? Higgins said they got your statement.”
“I wanted to wait for you.” Ash felt like she was moving through water.
“I’m here. Now go.” Edwards waved a uniformed officer toward the motel entrance. “Get over there and you tell them a press pass doesn’t mean access to an active crime scene.”
“Have you talked to Diane?” A persistent lump in the back of Ash’s throat continued to make it difficult for her to speak.
Edwards looked down. “I just came from seeing her. She asked about you, and I told her you would call her.”
Ash took a deep breath, and forced the tears back. “I’ll get cleaned up and go over.”
“What happened, Ash?” Edwards put his hand on her shoulder.
The simple gesture of the Lieutenant using her first name, and she couldn’t recall him ever touching her, caused the tears to flow. “Cris got a call from the motel manager that some odd paraphernalia was found in a residence room that may have something to do with the Garrett case. Cris took six uniforms, and knowing the suspect was likely to leave, attempted to secure him in the room. I arrived after they had gone in.”
Ash forced air into her lungs, and wiped at her eyes with her hand. “There was a gunshot. I moved in while backup was called. I got into the room and -” She looked toward room seven that was now teeming with CSI personnel.
Becoming Forever (Waking Forever Series) Page 15
