by Kaylea Cross
“No. Was probably the cat,” he muttered.
Right. “I’m going to look upstairs,” Avery said to Tate, pushing to her feet.
Zinke shot to his, blocking her way. “I didn’t give you permission.”
Avery arched an eyebrow at him, not the least bit intimidated. “Under the circumstances, I don’t need your permission.”
Zinke made a move to block her as she stepped past him, but Tate was there, placing himself between them with a solid hand on Zinke’s chest. “You stay here with me. Sit down.”
Zinke glared, his eyes burning with anger. “You got a warrant?”
“Don’t need one if we suspect someone might be hurt.”
“I’ll be reporting this,” Zinke growled, jaw tight.
“Be my guest,” Avery muttered to herself as she hit the stairs. She kept her hand on the butt of her pistol, attuned to every sound, watching for any sign of movement above her.
The upstairs landing led down two hallways. One to the guest suites, which were empty, and one to what she guessed must be the master.
Her pulse sped up as she walked toward the master bedroom. “Mrs. Zinke? I’m Detective Avery Dahl, Rifle Creek Sherriff’s Department. Are you all right?”
No answer. But then Avery caught the faint sound of something moving inside.
She entered the room. “Mrs. Zinke?”
Silence.
Screw this. Avery drew her weapon and began a more thorough sweep. The master suite was huge, and immaculate. Sweet perfume scented the air. “Mrs. Zinke?”
The bathroom was empty. So was the walk-in closet. What the hell? She’d heard something hit the floor up here not two minutes ago, then movement.
She stopped, spotting a faint smudge of dirt in the carpet. A potted orchid rested on an occasional table above it. The stain in this immaculately kept home was like a red flag. Pointing Avery directly to the built-in cabinets beside it.
She turned toward them and crouched down to pull one of the cabinet doors open, weapon ready.
A tiny gasp answered.
Avery’s heart clenched at the sight revealed in the beam of sunlight streaming through the window behind her. A blond woman was curled up in a ball inside, her face half-hidden in shadow. But the visible part of it was all Avery needed to see.
She holstered her weapon and got down on her knees to peer inside. “Tracy?”
The woman didn’t answer, her face wet with tears, her left eye swelling shut. She was trembling.
Avery extended a hand toward her. “It’s all right now. I’m Detective Avery Dahl. Come out and let me help you.”
The woman’s one-eyed gaze darted frantically around the room.
“My partner has him downstairs. You’re safe now.”
“N-no,” Tracy whimpered. “Don’t—d-don’t arrest him.”
Avery gestured with her hand. “Just come out and we’ll talk. I need to see that you’re all right.” Because clearly, she wasn’t.
Tracy put a trembling hand in Avery’s. Avery helped her out, and smothered a sharp intake of breath when she saw the woman fully in the light.
Zinke had busted her lip open. Her pink blouse was covered in blood. A welt was forming on her cheek below the swelling eye.
Tracy sniffed and wiped gingerly at her face, her gaze on the floor.
“You’re hurt,” Avery said, keeping her tone gentle even as she wanted to race back downstairs to watch Tate cuff Zinke and tell him what a piece of shit he was for beating his wife.
The woman shook her head. “N-no. I slipped in the sh-shower.”
“Tracy.” The woman looked up at her, the shame and fear there making Avery’s gut tighten. “You and I both know you didn’t slip in the shower.”
Tracy began to cry softly.
Avery gently took her over to sit on the edge of the wide, king-size bed and got on her radio. She called dispatch for an ambulance, ignoring Tracy’s protests. If Zinke had beaten her this badly, she might have fractures or even internal injuries that needed to be checked.
Just as she finished, Zinke’s enraged voice shattered the quiet from downstairs. “You can’t fucking prove anything!”
Tracy jerked, her entire body going rigid. Avery grasped her hand and gave her a reassuring smile. “Listen to me. I want you to stay right here, okay? I’m going to check on my partner, and then I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”
She turned and raced for the door. Zinke was screaming and swearing at Tate as she ran down the stairs. His enraged stare snapped to her the moment she came into view. Avery held it, a rush of triumph hitting her. “I found her and called for an ambulance,” she said to Tate. “Cuff him.”
Tate drew the cuffs from his belt and reached for Zinke’s wrist. Zinke snarled and took a swing at him.
Tate blocked the punch and sidestepped. Zinke stumbled past him, his momentum throwing him forward as he caught himself on the coffee table, scattering a pile of mail everywhere. “You wanna add resisting arrest on top of everything else?” Tate snapped, grabbing Zinke’s arm to twist it behind him.
Zinke whirled, the glint of the blade in his hand catching in the light.
Tate! Avery didn’t have time to shout the warning. She launched herself at Zinke, hitting him square in the back.
They landed with a thud on the coffee table, Zinke taking the brunt of the impact. Avery instantly locked her hands around the wrist wielding the blade—a freaking letter opener they’d missed under the mail.
She twisted sharply while Tate wrenched the bastard’s other hand up and behind him, one muscular arm pinned against Zinke’s nape.
Zinke screamed, thrashing. The letter opener hit the floor.
“I got him,” Tate said as he held Zinke there, totally calm.
Avery released what she sincerely hoped was Zinke’s broken wrist and kicked the blade across the floor. Then she shoved off him, heart racing as Tate kept the asshole subdued and cuffed him.
Tate yanked Zinke to his feet and started Mirandizing him. Avery whirled toward the stairs, stilling at the sight of Tracy Zinke standing halfway down them. Her one open eye was wide, her tear-streaked face pale, one hand at the base of her throat. “No,” she pleaded.
At the sound of her voice Zinke’s head snapped around to face her. “You fucking bitch!” he screamed. “You did this!”
“Shut up,” Tate growled, giving him a rough shake before shoving him toward the front door.
“I told you to stay out of sight until they were gone!” Zinke yelled at his wife.
Avery rushed past them to take Tracy by the arm. “Come upstairs with me.”
“No,” Tracy cried, turning back toward her husband. “Where is he taking him?”
“He’s being arrested for domestic assault, resisting arrest, and attacking a police officer.”
“No, you can’t,” she begged. “You can’t, he’ll—” She broke off, dissolving into tears.
Avery hurried her up the stairs and into the master bedroom. Backup was on the way, should be here any minute. “I’m having some paramedics come look at you. For now, just come sit and tell me what happened.”
Tracy continued to cry, a devastated, heartbroken sound that made Avery’s insides tighten. “He—he d-didn’t mean it,” she sobbed. “It was an accident.”
No, it fucking wasn’t. And Avery would bet everything she owned that this wasn’t the first time, either. Not even close.
“I won’t press charges,” Tracy blurted through her tears, a hint of defiance breaking through her fear.
Avery quelled a rush of frustration. So many women refused to press charges against their abuser, for a variety of reasons. But there was enough evidence to charge and convict him, so hopefully that wouldn’t matter. “Tracy. I understand that you’re afraid right now, but you don’t need to think about any of that yet. Right now, I just need you to take some deep breaths, calm down, and talk to me.”
She sat quietly, letting Tracy calm down, waiting for the tears t
o stop. “There. Now please tell me what happened.”
“It… It was just a s-stupid argument,” Tracy began.
Avery listened, taking detailed notes. But ten seconds in, it was obvious Tracy wasn’t telling the whole truth. “So you see, it was partly my fault,” Tracy finished in a whisper.
“No, it wasn’t,” Avery said in a low voice, holding back the rest of what she wanted to say. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out to see Tate’s message that Zinke was on his way to the sheriff’s department in the back of a squad car, and the ambulance was ten minutes out.
Avery replied for him to stay outside. She didn’t want anyone else to come in here and make Tracy clam up even more.
“Can I get you anything?” Avery asked her in the quiet.
“No.” Tracy sighed and bent her head, rubbing her fingers over her forehead. “He didn’t use to be like this,” she whispered. “When we first got together, he was wonderful. But…”
“But?”
“After we got married, things changed. He changed.” She looked up at Avery, her battered face full of misery. “Does that sound crazy?”
An echo of pain twisted through Avery, an old hurt flaring back to life. Different from Tracy’s. But still valid. “No. It doesn’t sound crazy at all.”
She knew all too well how suddenly a man could change after putting a ring on a woman’s finger.
*End Excerpt*
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
NY Times and USA Today Bestselling author Kaylea Cross writes edge-of-your-seat military romantic suspense. Her work has won many awards, including the Daphne du Maurier Award of Excellence, and has been nominated multiple times for the National Readers’ Choice Awards. A Registered Massage Therapist by trade, Kaylea is also an avid gardener, artist, Civil War buff, Special Ops aficionado, belly dance enthusiast and former nationally-carded softball pitcher. She lives in Vancouver, BC with her husband and family.
You can visit Kaylea at www.kayleacross.com. If you would like to be notified of future releases, please join her newsletter.
Direct link: http://kayleacross.com/v2/newsletter/
COMPLETE BOOKLIST
ROMANTIC SUSPENSE
Rifle Creek Series
Lethal Edge
Lethal Temptation
Lethal Protector
Vengeance Series
Stealing Vengeance
Covert Vengeance
Explosive Vengeance
Toxic Vengeance
Beautiful Vengeance
Crimson Point Series
Fractured Honor
Buried Lies
Shattered Vows
Rocky Ground
Broken Bonds
DEA FAST Series
Falling Fast
Fast Kill
Stand Fast
Strike Fast
Fast Fury
Fast Justice
Fast Vengeance
Colebrook Siblings Trilogy
Brody’s Vow
Wyatt’s Stand
Easton’s Claim
Hostage Rescue Team Series
Marked
Targeted
Hunted
Disavowed
Avenged
Exposed
Seized
Wanted
Betrayed
Reclaimed
Shattered
Guarded
Titanium Security Series
Ignited
Singed
Burned
Extinguished
Rekindled
Blindsided: A Titanium Christmas novella
Bagram Special Ops Series
Deadly Descent
Tactical Strike
Lethal Pursuit
Danger Close
Collateral Damage
Never Surrender (a MacKenzie Family novella)
Suspense Series
Out of Her League
Cover of Darkness
No Turning Back
Relentless
Absolution
Silent Night, Deadly Night
PARANORMAL ROMANCE
Empowered Series
Darkest Caress
HISTALACAL ROMANCE
The Vacant Chair
EROTIC ROMANCE (writing as Callie Croix)
Deacon’s Touch
Dillon’s Claim
No Holds Barred
Touch Me
Let Me In
Covert Seduction
