Trailing a Killer

by Carol J. Post

  Because she felt everything in agonizing detail. The gag in her mouth. The ropes biting into her ankles and wrists. Even the bruises from where vengeful fists had taken out their anger on almost every square inch of her body.

  He was nearby. She could hear his breathing. Clothing rustled. Was he shifting positions or preparing to approach?

  She lay as still as if she were dead. Maybe if she didn’t move, he’d forget about her. How long had it been? How much longer would it be? Nights slipped into days, which slid into more nights, the blindfold making every hour the same as the one before it. The only difference was the level of pain.

  How long would it take for her spirit to slip peacefully out of her body?

  The rustle grew louder. Then there were footsteps. Rough hands grabbed her, pulling her to her feet. No, he’d never let her slip peacefully away. When her legs buckled, he dragged her some distance and gave her a hard shove. A couch caught her backward tumble.

  She trembled, waiting for the first blow. It came, and a scream clawed its way up her throat. How many fruitless screams had she released into the duct tape binding her mouth?

  Another blow, another muffled scream. And tears she couldn’t stop.

  Then there was a whimper, different from her own. Light pressure against her chest. A wet tongue traced a path up her cheek. Those sensations weren’t terrifying. In spite of the darkness, they were soothing.

  And a male voice. Not his. This one belonged to someone kind and gentle. He was calling her name, assuring her she was safe, telling her to wake up.

  She opened her eyes and bolted upright with a gasp. Two paws slid down her abdomen and into her lap. The darkness was gone in an instant. The remnants of the dream would take much longer to dissipate.

  Alcee moved closer and pressed the side of her head to Erin’s chest. Movement in her peripheral vision drew a gasp.

  Cody stood two feet from the side of her bed, one hand raised. “It’s all right. I was trying to wake you up. Alcee and I both were.” One side of his mouth lifted. “She’s the brave one. I kept my distance.”

  She gave him a shaky half smile. “That’s probably smart.”

  All the times Alcee had brought her out of a nightmare, Erin had never hit her. In her unconscious but frantic state, she’d somehow known her dog posed no threat.

  “Sorry I woke you up.” She scooted backward to rest against the headboard, pulse still racing. Alcee followed. Erin wrapped her arms around Alcee’s middle and buried her face in the fur at the dog’s neck. Erin still needed her, and the dog knew it.

  Alcee wasn’t an emotional support animal in an official sense. She’d come through the National Training Center in Santa Paula, known for recognizing the potential in shelter dogs and training them in search and rescue. It hadn’t taken long to learn that Alcee helped her with her PTSD, waking her from nightmares, then calming her afterward.

  When Erin had made her move to Florida, Sunnyvale had allowed her to take Alcee with her and join the volunteer group, Peace River K-9 Search and Rescue. If Erin had been forced to leave her dog, she still would’ve chosen to be near her grandparents, but the decision would’ve shredded her heart.

  Cody moved closer. “Is it okay if I sit?”

  She nodded. It was okay as long as he didn’t pry. She hadn’t told anyone about those terrifying ten days. Well, she’d told the counselors. But that didn’t count.

  It also didn’t help.

  No, that assessment wasn’t fair. The counseling had reduced the frequency of the nightmares, just not made them go away. She’d expected the latter.

  Cody seated himself near the foot of the bed, facing her. She was probably a mess—eyes wild and hair sticking out at odd angles like a knotted, tangled bird’s nest. No fewer than three night-lights illuminated the room and announced her weakness. She was a cop, someone whose job put her in the path of danger, and she was scared of the dark.

  She should feel embarrassed. At least awkward. But with her dog lying in her lap, and Cody sitting three feet away staring at her with those warm dark eyes, she just felt...safe.

  “By the way, two nightmares in less than a week is not the norm for me.”

  “One nightmare a month is too many.”

  She’d be happy with one a month. Twelve per year. She could handle that. “I think my subconscious is latching on to all the stuff that’s happening to you. You’re the one with someone trying to kill you, and I’m the one having nightmares about it.” She laughed, but it didn’t sound natural, even to herself.

  Two soft raps sounded against the open door, and she started. It was only Opa.

  “Everything okay? I thought I heard you scream.”

  She smiled wryly. She’d insisted they leave their door open so they could call if they needed her. They’d been concerned about disturbing her. It hadn’t happened yet. But she’d woken them twice.

  “I just had a bad dream.”

  Her grandparents knew about her nightmares, even the story behind them. Opa nodded, his gaze shifting to Cody, then back to her again. “It looks like you’re in good hands, so I’m going back to bed.”

  When he left, Cody studied her. His eyes bored into her, as if he was looking past her walls to the brokenness she kept hidden. “What happened?”

  She tensed. “What do you mean?”

  “What did you experience that was so terrifying your mind keeps taking you back to the same dark place?”

  His gaze held sympathy, even pleading. It weakened her resolve. But only for a moment. If weeks of counseling couldn’t banish the nightmares, neither would talking to Cody. She had her medicine. It was Alcee.

  And prayer. It calmed her thoughts and helped her fall asleep. But the nightmares hadn’t stopped, and they weren’t any less terrifying. She’d asked God more than once to take them away. So far He hadn’t. Maybe they were like Paul’s thorn in the flesh, something to keep her dependent on Him.

  Through it all, she was learning trust, the confidence that God would protect her, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally, too. She still had a long way to go. But she was making baby steps. Maybe someday, the night-lights would go off.

  She ran her palm down Alcee’s back, and the dog released a contented sigh.

  “Erin?”

  She lifted her gaze to his.

  “When the case is solved and I return home, I’d like for us to stay friends.”

  She nodded. She didn’t want to let him go, either.

  “I want to know you.” He rested a hand on her lower leg where it lay hidden by the sheet. “You’re not the same carefree girl I met twelve years ago. Something changed you. Help me understand.”

  She closed her eyes. His hand felt warm through the sheet. The heat spread, chasing away some of the chill that still lingered.

  But he was asking for something she couldn’t give, to lower her walls and let him in. But her walls weren’t made of brick and mortar. They were rebar in solid-poured concrete. It really was possible for someone to be too damaged to fix.

  “Please, Erin.”

  When she opened her eyes, she kept her gaze fixed on her dog. Cody wanted friendship. Friends shared secrets, right? Except she hadn’t shared this secret with anyone.

  Her ex was ten years into a twenty-five-year sentence. But she’d lived the past ten years in a prison of her own. One of fear and regret over the choices she’d made. Maybe in sharing, thirty-year-old Erin would find healing that twenty-year-old Erin hadn’t been mature enough to receive.

  She kept her eyes cast downward, her fingers entwined in Alcee’s fur. “I’ve made some poor choices.”

  The first was walking away from Cody. If she hadn’t made that decision, her life might have taken a different path, and the other events wouldn’t have happened.

  “My wife cleared out our bank accounts and took off
with her boyfriend. Last I heard, they’re backpacking across Europe. I’ve had my nose to the grindstone ever since. I’m still trying to recover.” He released a dry laugh. “Trust me, you don’t have a monopoly on bad choices.”

  “Ever make a choice that almost got you killed?” Okay, bad question. “Not including anything in the past two weeks?”

  He didn’t answer, just waited for her to continue.

  She lifted her gaze to a painting that hung on the opposite wall. “I’d just finished my second year of college. A guy I’d been dating for two months got really possessive. After talking to some friends, I decided to dump him.”

  Her tone was flat. If she kept the emotion out of her voice, maybe she could keep it out of her heart. Then she’d have a chance of making it through the whole story.

  “We’d already made plans to visit his family in Washington to do some hiking, camping and white-water rafting. We were then going to venture up into British Columbia. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s vacation, so I went, figuring I’d break up with him when we got back to California.”

  As she talked, she kept her eyes fixed on the painting. It had been there when she’d bought the house. It was a seascape, but not a Florida one. Waves crashed against cliffs, surf spraying high in the air, wild and harsh and unpredictable. Like life.

  “He’d gotten wind of my plans and wasn’t willing to let me go. Instead of taking me to his parents’ house, we ended up at a remote cabin in the woods. When we got there, it was like something snapped.”

  A shudder passed through her. Cody moved to sit next to her, lifting Alcee’s back end from the bed onto his lap. When he slid his arm between the headboard and her shoulders, she didn’t resist. There was something comforting about sitting next to him, being nestled against his side. His strength flowed into her, giving her what she needed to continue.

  “As soon as we got there, he started hitting me, punching me in the face and head. I was still in the car, hadn’t even released my seat belt.” He’d beat her until she lost consciousness, then dragged her inside.

  “I woke up on the floor of the cabin, feet bound, hands tied behind my back, and mouth taped so I couldn’t scream. I doubt anyone would’ve heard me, anyway. On the way in, we drove for miles without seeing another house.” Never had she felt so alone. Or so utterly hopeless. “Every time I woke up, he’d hit me some more, until I passed out again. I knew I was going to die. More than once, that’s what I prayed for.”

  Cody’s arm tensed, and he pulled her more tightly against his side. She turned her face toward him, pressing her cheek into his chest. The terrors lessened their grip on her mind.

  “He had me blindfolded the entire time, so I never knew if it was day or night. After I was rescued, I learned I’d been held captive for ten days. I’d drifted in and out of consciousness, but I was always in total blackness. I haven’t slept in a dark room since.” Even when they’d lost power during the hurricane, she’d kept a battery-operated lantern going all night.

  “After it was over, I trained in self-defense, changed my major from chemistry to criminal justice and went to the police academy. Then I settled in Sunnyvale, almost seven hours from my hometown of Anaheim. He’s incarcerated, but eventually he’ll get out. I’m not making it easy for him to find me.”

  She leaned away from Cody to meet his eyes. “Now you know why I have no social-media presence.”

  “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” His jaw was tight, but his eyes were filled with sympathy, even pain, as if he was hurting with her.

  She didn’t deserve it. “It was stupid of me to go with him. I should have seen the signs.”

  “We’re all allowed mistakes. At some point we have to stop beating ourselves up over them.”

  “It’s hard to forgive yourself when the bad things that happen are your own fault.”

  A good half minute passed before he spoke again. “You believe that God forgives you for your mistakes, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “How do you think He feels about you not forgiving yourself?”

  She pursed her lips, eyebrows drawn together. She’d never considered that. Somewhere in the Bible she’d read the command to forgive others as God had forgiven her. Did others include herself? She didn’t have an answer.

  He continued, his voice low. “Holding on to the past allows it to keep us in bondage. Maybe healing begins when we stop beating ourselves up.” The contemplation in his tone said he wasn’t only thinking about her. Maybe he had some regrets of his own.

  He lifted his other hand to cup the side of her head. She relaxed against him, enveloped in safety. His heart beat against her ear, sure and steady.

  Was he right? Was berating herself for her bad choices stopping her from healing?

  She drew in a deep breath but wasn’t ready to pull out of his embrace. “Thank you for listening and not judging. Other than my immediate family and my counselors, you’re the only one I’ve ever told this to.”

  “I appreciate your sharing. It means a lot.”

  His voice was deeper than usual, making his chest rumble beneath her face. A light scent wafted to her, barely detectable—evergreen, citrus and a hint of spice. Maybe aftershave or body wash used during his evening shower.

  He’d said he wanted to remain friends. She’d agreed. But what if she wanted more? Cody made her feel safe, which was more than she could say about some of the men in her life. He would never lay a hand on her. But could she trust him to protect her emotionally, too? What did emotionally safe even feel like?

  She pulled away, and he relaxed his arms. The air that moved between them felt suddenly cold. She dipped her head. “It’s only three thirty. You could get a few more hours of sleep.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be awake for a while.” After one of her nightmares, sleep was a long time coming, partly because she fought it, afraid to relinquish control to her subconscious. When she left her subconscious in charge, it sometimes took her places she didn’t want to go.

  She shrugged. “I’ll read. Eventually, I’ll fall asleep.”

  He rose and pulled a chair up next to her bed. “I’ll sit with you until you do.”

  She started to object. But the words never made it past her lips. Protesting would be pointless. Cody knew she needed him, and nothing would dissuade him from being here for her.

  She took her reader from the nightstand, where it lay next to her devotional book, then turned on her side, her back to him. He rested a hand on her shoulder, the light pressure a constant reminder that he was here.

  Cody being such an intimate part of her life was temporary, tonight’s comfort even more so. But that wouldn’t stop her from relishing it while it lasted.

  EIGHT

  Erin sat at her dining room table nursing a cup of coffee. Two books lay open in front of her, her Bible and her devotional book. Courtney had recommended both, telling her to start with the Book of John, then work her way through the rest of the New Testament and read one of the daily devotionals in Jesus Calling. Each of the passages was written as if spoken by Jesus Himself, and over the past three months, she’d been amazed at how often the message had been just what she’d needed.

  She closed the book and opened her Bible. The early morning was quiet, the other occupants in the house still asleep. The two-legged ones, anyway. When she’d risen, Alcee had followed her out of the room.

  Erin hadn’t bothered to set the alarm. Today started the Labor Day weekend. She’d put in for four days’ vacation so she could go camping with Courtney. Those plans had changed. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving Cody that long, especially since Alcee would be with her. Courtney had understood and agreed to reschedule once the case was wrapped up.

  Erin took a sip of coffee and then set the mug on the table, leaving her hands wrapped around it. Even though
her alarm hadn’t gone off, she’d awoken at sunup anyway, rested and refreshed. It helped that last night’s sleep had been blessedly dreamless.

  The prior morning the blaring alarm had jarred her out of a sound sleep. Her reader had still been in the bed, but the chair next to her had been empty. After unloading her past to Cody, she’d picked up her tablet to read and within ten minutes could no longer hold her eyes open. She never got to sleep that soon after a nightmare. If she said his presence had had nothing to do with it, she’d be lying.

  Alcee lifted her head from her food dish and padded over to the table. Erin held the dog’s face between her hands. “You’re a good girl.” She inhaled, then wrinkled her nose. “But you smell like Purina.”

  Alcee responded with a drawn-out “Aarrrr.”

  “Yes, you do. You need a doggy breath mint.”

  When Erin looked up, Cody was standing at the edge of the open doorway, grinning.

  She returned his smile. “I didn’t know you were up.”

  “I’ve only been up a few minutes. I didn’t announce myself, because I was enjoying your conversation with your dog.”

  He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee. “Am I disturbing your reading?”

  “It’s okay. I’m almost finished.” She closed the Bible. She would read the last few verses later. Over the past three months, she’d almost completed the four Gospels. She was taking it slow, something else Courtney had encouraged her to do. If she attempted one of those complete-the-Bible-in-a-year plans, most of what she read would slip right past her.

  She smiled at him. “As soon as breakfast is over, you can put me to work.”

  She didn’t have to report in, but that didn’t mean she’d be goofing off. Her new kitchen cabinets were arriving tomorrow afternoon. Cody had one of his guys lined up to remove the old ones today. He’d originally planned to schedule two workers, since excessive tugging, pulling and lifting weren’t advised until his ribs had healed. But Erin had insisted on being the second demo person. She had no construction experience, but destroying a kitchen wasn’t rocket science. Besides, working alongside Cody would be fun.