“He’s seen Terry.” Jo didn’t know how the hell the man could’ve seen her friend. Terry hadn’t been in his line of sight, since she’d fallen back to give the guy plenty of space to make his move.
Maybe a snap of a twig, the crunch of leaves, or dead grass alerted him. Before she could shout out ‘Birmingham Police’, Terry called it.
“Shit, Sullivan.” Jo put on a burst of speed. “The guy’s got a gun!”
Shots peppered Terry, slamming the woman against the tree she’d tried to seek cover behind. Then she fell motionless to the ground.
Sullivan dropped to one knee, lifted his gun and took aim at their suspect. Shots rang out from his 9mm, providing precious cover for Ramirez and Jo as they converged on Terry’s location. The massive man that leaped over Terry and raced back into the trees easily dodging Ramirez’s wild grab. Seeing Ramirez chasing their perp into the woods with Sullivan hot on his heels, she focused on Terry.
Dropping to her knees, Jo tore the goggles off her head while fumbling for her phone. Within seconds she’d opened the flashlight app on her cell. The breath stuttered from Terry’s lips, letting Jo know her best friend lived, but she wasn’t getting up.
Shining the phone at her, she gasped. “Son of a bitch.”
Anger raged through Jo as she shook her coat off and ripped the vest from her body. Yanking the sweater over her head, she skimmed out of one of the two undershirts she’d worn to stay warm and pressed the dark-colored undershirt against Terry’s shoulder. Four bullet holes pierced her friend’s clothes, the fifth at the juncture of her shoulder and neck.
With one hand Jo held the makeshift compress, and with the other she yanked the police radio from her clip. Unable to flip the knob and press the button since sweat made her hand slick, she growled in frustration.
“Jo?” Ramirez joined them. “Wait, why isn’t Terry up? The vest should’ve caught the shots, right?
“No, one bullet hit her. Damned radio is too slick for me to call.” Jo knew she needed to ask about the perp. Right now, she didn’t care if the guy was dead, unconscious, or if Sullivan was kicking his ass. All she could see was Terry.
Ramirez snatched his own radio and began barking orders. It felt like time slowed to a crawl, then leap-frogged to chaos with EMTs urging Jo aside. Shaking, she allowed Sullivan to tug her sweater back over her head. Annoyed at the sticky feeling on her fingers, she swiped them over her sweater. That didn’t help so she scrubbed them on her jeans, needing the stickiness gone.
“We need to follow Ramirez and Terry,” she stated. Her gaze tracked the taillights of the ambulance that whisked Terry away until she couldn’t see them any longer.
“What the hell happened?” Captain Walker shouted, joining the chaos.
The second she heard the captain’s voice, Jo knew she’d run out of all her luck.
~ ~ ~
Jo paced. The need to move paramount, she couldn’t go to the hospital yet, the captain wanted to grill them first. Because of that, they were stuck uselessly at the damned cemetery.
Her partner knew her well and allowed her to work her frustration out by pacing. Fifteen paces to the large tree next to where Terry had fallen then back to the headstone they’d been relegated to wait at. She spun on her heel, the tender grass tearing under her feet like Terry’s flesh had torn so easily with that bullet, then she returned to the tree. What felt like hours later, their captain rejoined them, stopping next to Sullivan to pepper them with questions.
Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, her partner said, “The guy spotted us. Had night goggles.”
Night goggles? Jo had missed that, but then again her focus had been on reaching Terry while Sullivan covered them. Ramirez and Sullivan had chased the perp through the woods. Jo’s eyes fell to both sets of goggles lying where they’d been carelessly discarded. Guilt churned in her. Ramirez and Sullivan had raced after the perp without any goggles. That explained how the man had shaken her team.
The captain sighed. “Well, now we know how he gets in and out without too much trouble. But I don’t understand how he knows where the heck those graves are.”
“Rayburn, get over here and give me your report.” The sharp command in Captain Walker’s voice cracked like a whip through the night piercing through Jo’s anger and guilt. Laying a hand on her shoulder, deep brown eyes met hers. “It’s not your fault. None of the profilers thought he’d have a gun.”
She knew that. They’d all assumed he’d overdose a woman if he couldn’t find a fresh victim to dig up. Not shoot anyone. Dammit. That oversight could cost them Terry.
Taking the comfort her captain offered while trying to calm her, Jo rubbed a hand over her face. “The guy was huge. Between six-four and six-six at least and built like Maker.” She forced herself passed the adrenaline rush so she could remember anything that might help catch the asshole.
“He also had on a dark trench coat and the way he moved . . .” Sullivan trailed off, his head tipped to the side.
She knew exactly where her partner’s mind went and took over the explanation, “He had military training.”
The routine helped calm her. This was hers and Sullivan’s pattern, they fed off each other, finished each other’s thoughts when needed. The exchange annoyed most outsiders and unnerved suspects, but to other cops it was balance.
“Why?” the captain pressed.
“He merged with the shadows and when he shot, you’ll see it on Terry’s vest, but all the bullets hit center mass. If he hadn’t been moving, and she hadn’t been diving to get behind the tree, I don’t think he’d have gotten her.” Jo’s mind replayed the scene in her head and felt that Sullivan’s instincts were spot on as usual.
“I agree with Jo. Me and Ramirez chased him, that man was fast. The guy was up and over the ladder he’d propped against the wall, in seconds. Then flipped it to the other side and down before we had a clear shot of him. The move was slick, like he’d practiced it. Oh, and he wore gloves so no prints. The ladder might be a good lead since it looked new. Paired with the night vision goggles . . .”
Jo nodded. This would help when they searched for the guy, but not now. She tapped the side of her thigh. Impatience ate at her, she wanted to be at the damned hospital, not waiting to give statements. With this being an officer-involved shooting, Jo and Sullivan would be required to not only talk to IA, but a shrink too. Not something she was looking forward to.
“Do we know anything about how Terry’s doing?” she asked.
“Heard they almost lost her in the ambulance.” Captain Walker scraped a hand over his jaw. “After they get your statements, you two take today and tomorrow to recoup. This will all be here when we have clearer heads.”
Jo shook with anger. “I want to catch this asshole—”
“Same,” Sullivan chimed in. “We’ll be back tonight. Give us a chance to check on Terry and get cleaned up.”
“No, tomorrow and that’s an order,” the captain commanded, his eyes narrowed to slits. “Do not make me put you on desk duty for insubordination.”
Seeing the stubborn set of their captain’s chin, she looked to Sullivan. Should they push?
“Tomorrow then, but we’re still going to see Terry,” Sullivan stated, and she reluctantly nodded.
Captain Walker tipped his head in agreement and walked toward the activity near the tree line. Barked orders and questions fell from their captain’s lips as he called for updates. Jo itched to be in the middle of the investigation, to examine the evidence, but knew she and Sullivan would be left out. Sullivan because of discharging his weapon and Jo because she was the leader of the FUBAR.
“Detective Rayburn, I’m Sergeant Jameson and I’ll be taking your statement while my partner takes Detective Krane’s. If you’ll follow me.” The brown-haired man gestured toward a quieter section
.
Giving in to the inevitable, she followed Jameson.
Chapter 14
Rhys sprawled across the couch, the remote control within easy reach and his first bottle of ice cold beer resting on his stomach.
Perfect day off.
He’d dropped Rian off at school and made sure his brother had everything he needed before heading back into morning traffic. When he returned home, he cleaned his room and bathroom because he hated anyone else in his private space. After putting the dirty clothes in the laundry room, he could now relax and watch the programs Rian hated on their big screen television.
As he flipped through the selection, he chose the police drama that freaked Rian out. Even though he’d explained, many times, the show was only make-believe, Rian still worried himself sick whenever he went on a call. Explaining that he was an assistant in the Coroner’s office still didn’t help. Rian’s fertile imagination always placed Rhys in the thick of the action. It wasn’t until his little brother woke screaming from nightmares three days running that he nixed watching the drama whenever Rian was home. The easiest solution was to record the show to watch later.
He sighed in contentment and took a sip of beer. The bitter brew tasted like a celebration at finally having a few hours of alone time. And it did not have any cherry flavoring, nor did the brew coat his tongue in a sugary aftertaste.
Camping with two curious and active boys wore him out, only to return to work and to all the death. He needed to think about another line of work, but he didn’t know what yet.
Halfway through the show the doorbell pealed echoing through the house. Groaning, he muttered as he paused his program and shoved to his feet. Who could that be? He’d not ordered anything. His sock-covered feet slapped against the cold marble as he headed to the foyer. A twist to unlock the deadbolt and he opened the solid wood door with a frown.
The sunlight blinded him for a few seconds. When he could focus, he froze in shock at finding Jo on his doorstep. How’d she find out where I live? Christ, he’d not prepared her for his home, Rian, or any of his crazy life.
His gaze swept over her. Blood smeared across her sweater, streaked her pants, and spotted her jacket. He gently tugged her inside, all while barely keeping his sanity intact. Jo’s booted heels stopped in the foyer, he fisted his hands at his sides. She seemed skittish, lost, and he refused to spook her into leaving until he knew she was okay. Taking a longer pass over her body, he didn’t see any visible wounds. Nor any rips in her clothing.
“What the hell happened?” His voice all but deserted him as he tugged her further into the foyer.
The gorgeous blue eyes that entranced him from the beginning were dull and lifeless. Jo’s usual prickly self nowhere to be found. Realizing they were standing in the hall with the door open, he quickly shut and locked it.
Her elegant fingers fidgeted with the bottom of her sweater, and Jo’s eyes bounced around the room, never landing on any one thing for long.
“Jo?” He gently took her hands. “What. Happened?”
“Shit. I was supposed to go home. The captain told me to go home, but umm . . .” Her eyes shifted to the den behind him and focused on the paused program. “And I’m bothering you on your—”
“Jo, you’re not bothering—”
“I’ve never been to your house.” Her arms wrapped around her stomach.
“I know. We were going to have dinner this weekend, remember? How’d you get my address?” Worried, he did his best to follow along with her rambling statements as he tried to coax her into the den, but she wouldn’t budge.
“Captain Walker told me to shower.” A hiccup passed her lips and Jo’s eyes widened as she released his hand to slap her palm over her mouth. Dried blood ringed her cuticles, otherwise her hands were pristine.
“Is that blood yours?” He didn’t add that if it was, she damned well needed to be at a hospital not home.
Jo’s eyes glistened, then dropped to her sweater. “No.”
He waited to see if she’d add more but got nothing. “Okay, let’s do what your captain ordered and get you cleaned up.”
She clasped his T-shirt in a tight fist. “Not where Rian can see. Okay?”
“Of course not, baby, come on.” Rhys alternately guided and herded her to his room on the main level.
They entered the master suite that his parents moved Rhys into. Needing to be closer to Rian, they’d taken his old room and a guest bedroom. The two rooms were combined making another suite on the second floor. The exchange gave him a lot more room and a sanctuary.
“This is beautiful.” With trembling fingers, Jo brushed across the heavy mahogany dresser that matched the armoire, four-poster bed and nightstands.
“Thanks, it was my grandparents.” He led her toward the door on the opposite side of the room.
The bathroom was his favorite place in the house. It was the one place Rian never intruded. Glass blocks staggered up the far wall separated the shower from the rest of the room. Straight ahead was a large jacuzzi tub, and to the left were his and her sinks with cabinets and drawers bracketing them. All done in a light green and cream color.
Opening a door next to the cabinets, he flipped a switch. “The toilet’s in here. The shower is set to the rain setting, but if you prefer jets just let me know. And”—he rummaged in the cabinet—”here’s a toothbrush, rag, and towels for you.”
She plucked at her clothes, her gaze dropping to the floor.
His eyes narrowed. Jo was exhibiting all the signs of shock, but no doctor worth his salt would’ve released her, especially to drive. At least no doctors he knew would do that. “While you get cleaned up, I’ll get you something to wear.”
“Sweats please. I’m freezing.” She tugged the clothing from her body.
Uncoordinated, her elbows just missed jabbing him in the stomach. He wanted to ask if she needed help, if he should call her mother or best friend Terry. Wondered why Jo wasn’t in the hospital. There were so many questions swirling in his head.
Instead, he kept quiet, not pulling her into his arms like he craved. The sight of Jo’s blank face spoke of how close she was to losing control.
He hurried from the room and gathered thick white socks, gray sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a navy sweatshirt, even though the house was warm. He returned and found her crumpled on the shower floor, quiet sobs shaking her frame.
What’s broken her this badly?
Within a few seconds, he had shed his clothes. Clad only in navy blue boxer-briefs, he joined Jo under the warm water.
A soft snort passed her lips. “Not how I imagined getting naked with you.”
He gathered her in his arms. “Me neither, hon, but we can have as many do-overs as we need after I make sure you’re not hurt.”
“S’not my blood.” Tears ran down Jo’s cheeks. “Terry got shot.”
Shit.
“I thought it was just a flesh wound, but she lost so much blood. Captain Walker said they almost lost her in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.” Pain-filled blue eyes met his. “It should’ve been me.”
He pulled the pins from her hair and worked to ignore her sexy body on full display. Jo needed him right now, her best friend had almost died. The heavy mass kept his attention as the chocolate-colored strands tangled around his fingers. “Why would you say that?”
“I was supposed to be with Abe and she was supposed to do the circuit with Sullivan, but we swapped up after a few hours.” A soft huff. “Abe gets on my last nerve after a while and I needed a break.”
He shivered. Christ, it could’ve been Jo in that hospital. Yanking her against him, his hands traveled over her back, reassuring himself that she was safe.
Her lips pressed against the hollow of his throat.
“Make me forget,” she whi
spered.
He lifted her face and claimed her lips. No way would he take her to his bed like this. Still in shock, her eyes held little light within them. “How about we get you cleaned up and I hold you?”
Her eyes darkened further. “You don’t want me now.”
Cradling Jo’s hand, he wrapped her fingers around his erection. All while cursing the underwear keeping him from feeling the silk of Jo’s hand. “That’s never a question. But you need rest and I know you’re going to want to see Terry in a few hours.” He leaned in and kissed her again, slicking his tongue into the wet cavern of Jo’s mouth. He could lose himself in her so easily, immerse himself in her and forget the shooting altogether. But Rhys could never be that callus. That wasn’t him. With a gasp, he pulled away, tucking her head under his chin. “When we make love, I don’t want any distractions. No one pulling at your time or thoughts, but me. Do you understand?”
Jo hummed her agreement.
“Now, let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll introduce you to the wonderful world of Major Crimes.”
“Oh God. Not a cop drama.”
He chuckled as Jo lectured him on how television did not emulate real-life. Pouring the shampoo in his hand, he washed her. Just because he wouldn’t be claiming her yet, didn’t mean he couldn’t learn some of her hotspots.
~ ~ ~
The elevator opened onto yet another floor. They all looked the same, smelled the same, and sounded the same. All except the nursery floor where crying children, babbling parents, ringing phones, and glee-filled grandparents drowned out the sterile hallways that squeaked when the nurses padded down them.
This floor was quieter, not as silent as ICU, but murmurs greeted Jo instead of normal voices. Even the pages that blared in other parts of the building were turned down here.
Gravedigger (The Rayburn Mysteries Book 1) Page 13
