More Than a Soldier

by Irene Onorato

  “It’s been tried.” Hank chugged a swallow of coffee. “I don’t kill easy.”

  If Eric meant to intimidate with his piercing stare, his efforts failed. Hank’s pulse stayed slow and steady. He had no fear of Eric and his body didn’t register a negative response to the threat as he stared him down.

  “You’ve been warned.” Eric strutted out the door to his truck. The diesel growled to life, and he roared away.

  Hank latched on to Cindy’s bagful of coffee and moseyed to the Jeep. Cricket jumped into the backseat and stuck her head between the front bucket seats as Hank slid behind the wheel. He pulled her head close and kissed the side of her jaw. “Let’s go muscle in on Eric Nolan’s ex-fiancée.”

  * * * *

  Cindy waved as the Jeep drove up, and dropped a knee to the gravel when Cricket jumped out the passenger-side window. She gave the dog a vigorous petting and laughed when a wet tongue lashed her face. “I love you too.”

  She took Hank’s offered hand and sprang to her feet with one sharp pull. Bumping into his chest cued a surge of electrical tingles that started at the nape of her neck and sped across her shoulders and down her arms. Her day had just gotten exponentially better.

  Cricket forced herself between their legs and wriggled for attention.

  Cindy patted the dog’s head, her gaze never leaving Hank’s. “Thanks for coming. I wasn’t looking forward to being alone today.”

  “Figured you needed some company.”

  Their hands drifted apart as they turned to go inside.

  Cricket bounded ahead, leading the way.

  Cindy put away the coffee Hank had brought in and paid him. “Thanks for stopping for this. I didn’t realize I was so low until this morning.”

  “You’re welcome. Is there anything in particular you’d like to do today?”

  Cindy chewed the inside of her cheek. She loved the outdoors almost as much as Hank. But today the big old world had been cruel and unjust. All she wanted was to wrap herself in the safety and familiarity of her apartment.

  “Would it bore you to tears if we stay here and vegetate awhile? I have a couple of movies we could watch, and we can order pizza for lunch.”

  Hank nodded. “I think I can be persuaded with the promise of a large pepperoni with extra cheese. We can call in the order after the first movie.”

  Apprehension melted and she broke into a big smile. “You’re on.”

  * * * *

  Credits rolled on the screen as the movie ended. Cindy shot Hank a smile. “That was good. I haven’t seen a western in a long time. Guess I’ll order the pizza while you pick the next movie. Let me get my phone.” She started to rise from the couch.

  Hank grabbed her shirttail and made her plop back into the cushion. “We’re vegetating, remember? No one leaves the couch unless they absolutely have to. Here, use my phone.”

  She laughed then dialed the number she knew by heart. “Hi, I’d like to place an order for—”

  “If you want delivery, it’s going to be an hour or better before we can get to you.” The man spoke hurriedly with voices shouting in Italian in the background.

  “Can you hold on a sec?” Cindy covered the mouthpiece and nudged Hank. “They can’t deliver for over an hour. Do you want me to try another place, or—”

  “Nah. Put in the order and I’ll go pick it up. It’ll be quicker that way.”

  Cindy finished ordering and hung up. “It’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”

  * * * *

  Cindy gave Hank directions to the pizza place and headed to the laundry room. The load of clothes she’d put in the dryer before starting the movie would still be warm and, hopefully, wrinkle-free. Cricket padded behind, bumping her legs, wanting to play. Cindy found an old sock and indulged in a game of tug-o-war. Afterward, she let the dog out into the tiny back yard and left the door standing open. Cool, refreshing puffs of air drifted in while she folded her clothes.

  Cricket lay on her side, her dark fur absorbing the sunshine, and ribcage rising and falling in peaceful sleep.

  Cindy pulled the last pair of jeans from the dryer, held them by the waist and snapped them with a sharp flick.

  Someone tapped on the front door. Cindy paused and hugged the warm jeans to her chest. Hank wouldn’t be back for another twenty or thirty minutes. Or had more time passed than she’d imagined?

  The knock landed on the door again, this time harder.

  She tossed the jeans aside, started through the house, and yelled, “Hold your horses, Hank. I’m coming.”

  Chapter 23

  Knocks gave way to impatient kicks that rattled the front door’s lower hinges. Cindy hurried. If Hank had his hands full with a sizzling-hot pizza box, he might be inclined to knock with his foot.

  She unlocked and opened the door. “That was fast. I— Eric!” Her spine stiffened. “Go away. You’re not welcome here.”

  Eric shoved past her and staggered inside, a long-necked beer bottle dangling from his hand. He slammed the door and held it shut with a stiff arm over Cindy’s shoulder. “I came to spend a little time with the girl who accepted my proposal of marriage. You got a problem with that?”

  Warm blasts of beer breath made her want to gag.

  Head tipped sideways, Eric came in for a kiss.

  She jerked her chin away. “Get away from me. You stink.” Cindy twisted and reached for the doorknob.

  Eric pressed in and nuzzled her neck.

  She ducked under his arm and darted to the middle of the living room. “I meant it when I said I never wanted to see you again. Get out!”

  With a few noisy glugs, Eric finished his beer and tossed the bottle onto the armchair. One step brought him within arm’s reach. “I see you’ve still got that beautiful hair of yours.” His knuckle brushed her breast as he hooked a strand of her hair.

  She slapped his hand away.

  “Why are you still angry with me, baby? After all these months, I figured—”

  “Why am I still angry? Well, let’s see.” Cindy mocked deep thought with a finger to her chin. “Hmm. Maybe it’s because you were sleeping with my sister and got her pregnant while we were engaged. Yeah. Maybe that’s it. Now, get out!”

  Eric gnashed his teeth and lunged.

  Cindy ran into the bedroom, closed and reached to lock the door.

  A powerful kick exploded it inward.

  She crashed backward onto the floor, flipped onto her hands and knees, and tried to stand. Fingers of steel dug into her shoulders.

  Eric dragged her to the foot of the bed, sat her upright on the floor, and slammed her back against the wrought iron bedframe.

  Her skull hit the metal hard. Nausea gripped her, and she blinked to bring the room back into focus. Escape. She had to find a way to get away.

  Daylight from the back yard bounced through the laundry room and painted a golden path on the bedroom carpet. If she could get to it, she could make a run for it, and scream for help. Leaning sideways, she pushed against the floor and rose a few inches.

  Eric pulled her back and dropped his knees heavily across her thighs. Clutching her wrist with one hand, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his waistband with the other.

  “Eric, no. Please don’t do this.” She broke into sobs and struggled against his grip. “Please.”

  Breathing hard and fast, Eric snapped the first cuff tight around her wrist. His shin dug deep into her thighs as he threaded the other cuff and its connecting chain through the curlicues of the sturdy bedframe.

  Cindy hammered his shoulder with her free fist but couldn’t fend him off.

  Eric caught her hand mid-swing, and clicked the second shackle into place. “Nobody says no to me. Nobody!” He lifted from her legs and backhanded her hard across the face.

  Her cheek and lip stung. How could she have ever loved a man who was capable of hurting her like this?

  A satanic presence peered through Eric’s eyes—da
rk, evil, and frightening. Eric squatted beside her, gathered all her hair and coiled it around his fist several times. His solid hold threatened to pull her hair out by the roots.

  Eric pulled a knife from his pocket and flicked it open. “Say good-bye to your precious hair, darlin’.”

  No, this couldn’t be happening. Cindy’s heart beat wildly. “Eric, nooo!”

  The silver blade sliced through her hair with one hard pull. Laughing low in his throat, Eric flung her long, dark locks to the floor.

  Cindy shrieked.

  Snarling and snapping teeth, Cricket charged in and leapt over Cindy’s legs. She hit Eric, knocking him off balance, latched on to Eric’s forearm and shook her head violently.

  The knife flew from Eric’s hand and slid under the dresser.

  Wolfish growls, primal and vicious, filled the air.

  Eric struggled to his feet and beat Cricket’s head with his fist.

  The dog’s fangs held fast and drew blood.

  “Cindy!” Mrs. Baker pounded on the bedroom wall, and yelled with a shaky voice, “I’ve called the police! They’re on their way!”

  Cricket released Eric and stood her ground, hackles raised, lips drawn back displaying bloody teeth.

  Eric held his wounded arm, backed away and kept an eye on the dog. He shook his finger at Cindy as he left the room. “This ain’t over. When I’m through, you’ll come crawling back to me because you can’t pay your bills. You’ll see.” He closed the bedroom door.

  The front door slammed. Eric’s diesel engine started and revved a few times. The sound faded as he drove away.

  It was no use trying to wriggle her hands out of the restraints. Until the police arrived, she was hopelessly trapped. But at least she was alive.

  Cricket abandoned her pacing and growling vigil at the bedroom door, gave Cindy’s cheek a few nervous licks, and then lowered herself across her lap. She quivered and kept watch on the doorway.

  * * * *

  The counter clerk at Mamma Lucia’s Pizzeria wiped floury hands on a sauce-speckled apron then pecked the register keys with one finger. “Cindy Giordano? Sorry, we don’t have that order in our system.”

  Hank furrowed his brow. “How’s that possible? I was sitting right next to her when she called it in. This your number?” He held his phone up and displayed the number Cindy had dialed.

  “No, that’s our other store. Happens all the time. I can check their orders if you give me a sec.” With a nod from Hank, the clerk poked the keyboard again. “Yep, that’s what happened. The order’s waiting for you at the Delmont Street restaurant. Ten minutes that-a-way.” He indicated with a jerk of his thumb.

  “Thanks. Sorry about the mix-up.”

  Hank hopped into the Jeep, chuckled, and started down the road. He’d have to give Cindy the razz when he got back to her place. She might have had the pizzeria’s correct number etched in her head. But the location? Not so much.

  His phone rang. Cindy’s name lit up the screen. “Hey, Sassy pants. Guess where—”

  “Hank, this is Mrs. Baker.”

  The cry in the old woman’s voice set him on edge. Why would she be calling from Cindy’s phone?

  “Something’s happened. Eric was here, and—” Mrs. Baker began to weep.

  “Eric?” Hank hit the brakes and pulled onto the shoulder.

  “I-I’m afraid he might have hurt her.” Mrs. B cried more. “The police are on the way. I do hope they hurry.”

  “Is Eric still there?” Hank waited for a break in traffic and made a U-turn.

  “No. He’s gone. The police told me not to go inside Cindy’s apartment. Cindy had left her phone on the porch railing. I knew you had just left and couldn’t have gotten very far, so I called. Oh, Hank, I’m so afraid.”

  “Sit tight, Mrs. B. I’m on my way.”

  * * * *

  Hank ran across the gravel giving only a passing glance to a dark sedan and a police cruiser parked behind Cindy’s car. He bounded onto the porch where Mrs. Baker stood waiting.

  “Where’s Cindy?” he asked.

  “Inside. The police got here a couple of minutes ago.”

  The taller of two uniformed cops blocked his path in the middle of the living room. “Slow down, big guy. Take it easy.”

  “What’s going on? Where’s Cindy?”

  “Are you Hank Fleming?”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “I’m Officer Smith. This is my partner, Officer Cravelle. Miss Giordano is in the bedroom. We’ve been talking to her through the door. Seems your dog has taken a protective stance on her lap and won’t let us in. We just put in a call to animal control.”

  “On her lap? I don’t understand. Is Cindy badly hurt?” What other reason could she have for not pushing the dog off and coming out of the room? What Smith said didn’t make any sense.

  Everything in him wanted to push them out of the way, barge into the bedroom and get to Cindy as quickly as possible. But these guys were in authority, and that was something Hank fully understood. He could offer to help in any way he could, but ultimately, they were in command.

  “Mr. Fleming.” A man casually dressed in a sports jacket over jeans moved into Hank’s line of sight. If he’d been in the living room the whole time, Hank hadn’t noticed. “I’m Detective Vargas.”

  “Are you in charge?”

  “Yes. Cindy’s been asking for you. She was pretty distraught when we first got here. We told her the neighbor had called and that you were on the way. That seemed to comfort her.”

  “Good. What’s her situation?” He blocked out thoughts of what Eric could have done to her.

  “She’s sitting on the floor, restrained to the bedframe. Smith and Cravelle tried going in there, and the dog snarled and snapped at them.”

  “Let me go in and calm her. Cricket trusts me and knows I won’t hurt Cindy.”

  “All right. Here’s what we’re going to do.” Vargas positioned himself between Hank and the bedroom door. “I’m going to let you in, and you’re going to call the dog to you. Once you do that, I want you to put her in the bathroom and close the door. We’ll take it from there. You good with that?”

  “I’m good. Let’s do it.” Hank entered the room.

  Cindy sat on the floor chained to the bed like a prisoner, and strands of long hair lay scattered between her and the dresser. Just as Smith had described, Cricket lay across her lap in full protective posture.

  “Hank,” Cindy whispered. Her broken, pleading voice tore at his heart.

  He reined in his emotions. It would do her no good to see him upset. “Hang in there, Cindy. Let me get Cricket off you, and we’ll get you out of those cuffs.”

  “Okay.”

  Hank approached slowly. “What a good dog you are. Come here, girl.” He coaxed with an outstretched hand and spoke in soothing tones.

  Whimpering, Cricket shook and leaned into Cindy’s torso as if not quite sure about relinquishing her position as protector.

  Hank dropped to a knee and dragged himself a bit closer.

  Still whining, she licked his hand in a submissive gesture.

  “That’s it, come on, girl.”

  Cricket crawled off Cindy’s lap and went to Hank with her head low in submission.

  Hank drew her into a tight hug. “Good girl. Good, good girl.”

  Silver handcuffs contrasted against the black wrought iron bedframe and held Cindy’s delicate hands in a cruel grip. Hank fought the urge to curse out loud and instead put on his poker face. “You’re going to be all right. Understand? Everything’s going to be okay.”

  Cindy nodded and breathed a weak, “Okay.”

  Hank put Cricket into the bathroom and closed the door. “All right, guys. The dog is secured.”

  The uniformed cops entered the bedroom and Vargas stayed by the doorway looking on.

  With gloved hands, Smith removed Cindy’s handcuffs then dropped them into a bag Cra
velle held open.

  “Thank you.” Rings of reddened skin circled Cindy’s wrists. She rubbed them and looked over to where Hank stood by the bathroom door. “Hank?”

  Vargas gave him an approving nod. “Go ahead.”

  The uniforms backed away.

  Quickly, Hank went and knelt beside Cindy.

  “Oh, Hank. Look what he did to my hair.” Cindy lifted a long strand, sobbed, and let it fall back to the floor. “It’s ruined.”

  “It’ll be okay. I’ll gather it up, and—”

  “You can’t fix this. Kiddie Wigs won’t accept hair that’s been tossed all over the floor. Nobody will.”

  “Let’s not worry about that right now.” Hank wiped a smear of blood off her chin with his thumb and looked away for a moment. Losing his composure would be unacceptable. “How bad are you hurt? Do you think anything’s broken?”

  “I think I’m okay. Just bruised.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I think so, but my back hurts. Can you help me up?”

  “Sure.” He rose and pulled her to her feet.

  “Thanks.” She arched backward with a groan. “I heard a knock and thought it was you at the door. Eric barged in. I-I couldn’t stop him.”

  Hank glanced at the doorway where Vargas stood listening. He gave Hank a nod, indicating he’d heard what Cindy had said.

  Cindy felt her head and found the circular area where no more than an inch of hair remained. “Oh, no. Why would Eric do such a terrible thing?”

  The answer was obvious. Eric was pure evil.

  She sniffled and wiped her cheeks. “I told him to get out, but he wouldn’t leave. He knocked me down, and then he—” Her tears flowed afresh. “I tried to fight him, but he was too strong. He chained me to the bed and hit me.

  “Cricket came out of nowhere, hit Eric hard and bit his arm. His knife is over there, under the dresser.”

  Hank met Vargas’s gaze. “You got all that?”

  “Got it.” Vargas turned to Officer Cravelle. “Put out an APB for Eric Nolan, and check local hospitals and clinics to see if he ended up at one of them with a dog bite. And cancel animal control while you’re at it.”