“Recognize any of these women?” she asked the beefed up Caucasian guy with a tribal tattoo on one side of his face, as he blew smoke through the window.
“You got some balls of steel lady,” he said and took the pictures. “Ain’t scared in these parts of town at this hour?”
Martinez was honestly not sure what time it was, and she didn’t bother to check. She needed to do something useful before this man decided to start another garden because they had commandeered his.
“Just look at the damn pictures,” she ordered the guy who chuckled and flipped the light on inside his van. Martinez had known he was not alone, but was surprised to see a familiar face. The face of a drug addict she had helped off the streets the year before. The woman smiled at her and Martinez chuckled.
“Still running off playing superwoman on your own, Martinez?” The woman asked with a warm smile.
“And you have upgraded from snorting cocaine to being a pimp, I see.”
“A girl has got to eat somehow,” the woman responded to her as the guy tapped a photo and said he knew one of the girls.
“She had the nicest piece of ass, that goofy pharmacist dude was doing her,” he said. “What happen to her? She in trouble or something?”
“Why?” Martinez asked. “She the kind of girl that gets into trouble?”
“Nah, she seemed like a real decent chick but I overheard them fighting once and she was telling him that if he didn’t stop she was going to turn him in.”
“Stop what?” Martinez asked.
“I don’t know,” the guy shrugged as he tried to relight his blunt. “He was real goofy and kind of creepy. He wanted one of my girls once to let him cover her in dirt while he had sex with her. That’s some weird shit.”
Martinez asked a couple more questions, but the two did not know much more, so she left.
“Stay out of trouble,” she said to the woman who she was honestly happy to see. “And you,” she grabbed the new blunt the guy was about to light, “need to go to weed rehab.” She crushed it and threw it away.
“Weed is good for you, you could use some.” He called after her as she walked away. She knew that by the time she had crossed the street, he would have another blunt in his mouth.
Her mood had somewhat improved and she tried calling manning again, but got no response. She weighed the possibility of actually getting some sleep against getting work done and decided that she would very much rather go stake out Sanchez’s apartment. Besides, she found every time she had a minute to spare her mind automatically went to Lampard and she did not want to the think about her for the rest of the night.
So work it was.
Minutes later she pulled up to the apartment complex that Sanchez lived in, and searched for his name on the buzzer. When she found it she entered the open lobby and took in the floor plans trying to find his apartment. When she had been apartment hunting she had looked at a few places on this side of town, and she knew that based on the position of his apartment, she had a vantage point from across the road in the building that was used as parking.
“Can I help you?” The security said coming up to her after a minute or so. She flashed him her badge and asked if Sanchez was home.
“Yeah, he just came back from getting some things for the garden up top. Said he was going to be doing some late night gardening.”
“Gardening?” she asked.
“Yeah, he heads the committee that is in charge of the home gardens on the apartments around here,” the man responded
She called the uniform officer she had left at the front desk and told him to send backup immediately to her location.
“Take me up top,” she said to the security guard who said he could not leave his post, but gave her a card to access the elevator. On the ride up she braced herself for what she might find. Stepping out of the elevator onto the roof top she saw light hanging over the boxes that had plants growing out of them. She hoped that no bodies were buried there.
Beethoven flowed from some speakers, placed on a chair, with a computer that showed image from inside the elevator.
He would have seen her coming.
There were dirty shoe prints around the boxes and as she walked around to take a closer look at a box that was half filled with dirt, she saw a body lying there, the gently rise and fall of the woman’s chest told her she was still alive.
She pulled her gun and walked around looking for signs of Sanchez, while she called again this time for more back up and an ambulance.
“Miguel Sanchez, I know you are here!” She called out as she hung up.
She heard footsteps dashing towards the elevator.
“Stop!” she shouted. “I will shoot,” she said and the man stopped but did not turn to face her.
“Get on the ground!” she yelled at him, but he quickly turned and fired two shots at her. A bullet grazed her left shoulder as she took cover while shooting back. From where she hid she could hear footsteps coming towards her and bided her time. As Sanchez came around the corner she used her gun to hit him in the face, but he was quicker and stronger than she was. The elevator dinged its arrival and he hit her hard against the side of her head and dashed toward the emergency stairs, shoving the security guard who exited the elevator, to the ground.
Martinez’s head swam as she crumbled to the ground and the darkness consumed her.
Chapter 4
She woke to a cold metal being pressed to her chest feeling like someone was hammering away at her brain from the inside.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” she heard her chief say from somewhere to her left as she tried to adjust her vision.
“We were here thinking you had walked into the light,” Manning said with a chuckle and for some strange reason she was happy to hear him in the room.
“Did we get him?” She asked, her throat feeling dry.
“No, but you saved two lives. Good job.” Her chief said and she felt his hand on her shoulder.
The doctor was saying she would have a serious headache for another couple hours, and she should get some rest. She refused the pain killers remembering after her best friend had been murdered, she had gotten addicted to painkillers to sooth the tension headaches that came with mourning. She had been young then and a whole lot more screwed up than she was now, but she still did not want to risk every going back there.
The doctor shoved the men out of her room and ordered her to get some rest. Trying to wave to them as they reluctantly exited her room a sharp pain shot through her left shoulder.
“Yeah, you got shot,” Manning said with a grin. “Battle scar.”
She laughed at his childish tone and thought she had never seen him this animated before. She knew it was relief, because losing a member of the police force whether they were close to them or not, was something that reminded them of their own mortality. So to have one survive a close death encounter was always reason to be joyful.
As the door closed behind them she suddenly felt so alone and disappointed. She had expected that Lampard would have been by her bedside. If she wanted her so bad, she should have been there and she knew Manning and the others would have made her aware of the accident.
The door creaked opened just then and she looked up with hopeful eyes, but it was only Sharon.
“Not who you were expecting to see?” Sharon asked her with an understanding smile.
“She didn’t come.”
“She might not know you want her to. The way you have been treating her lately, if I were her I wouldn’t come either.”
Martinez thought about it for a moment and found truth to Sharon’s words. She distracted herself by watching Sharon unload a bunch of things from her bag. There was ice-cream, Chinese takeout and a couple of DVD’s.
“What’s all that?” she asked her.
“I am off today, and this here,” Sharon pointed to the assortment of food and the DVDs, “was what I had planned for my day. Since you went and got yourself shot, a
nd I have to be here, I took my plans with me.”
Martinez laughed as Sharon handed her a pair of chopsticks and a box. She realized in that moment that she had not eaten for however long and her stomach was rumbling in hungry anticipation. She waited until Sharon had put a DVD in the player and started the movie, admiring her ass as she stretched to get everything ready.
Sharon turned to see her eying her and smiled, but said nothing. The first movie was a comedy, which had them laughing so hard that the nurse had to tell them to keep it down or she would kick Sharon out and give Martinez a sedative. Even that didn’t help and the last time the nurse came in to make good on the promise, the movie was finishing so she let them be.
Martinez watched Sharon as she put the second movie in. “Thank you,” she said in appreciation for the company and the distraction. Until then she had not realized just how unhappy she had gotten, and how lonely she had felt without Connelly.
“If I get shot I expect you to do the same thing,” Sharon said in response.
The second movie was a horror and by the time it had gotten half way through Sharon had kicked her shoes off, and had crawled in bed with Martinez as they used her blanket to duck to hide their faces when the too scary parts came on. It was then that Martinez felt the heat building between them. The touch of Sharon’s bare legs with hers where her hospital gown had bunch up around her underwear, was undeniable. They both felt it, and as Sharon got up to put the third and final movie in, she looked at Martinez with lust filled eyes and excused herself to the bathroom.
When she came back, Martinez could see that she had washed her face for obvious reasons but she said nothing. Like a sign the next movie was a lesbian romance, and at some point their fingers laced together beneath the sheets. As they could not ignore the attraction any more, they leaned in to kiss each other.
A knock on the door just before it opened, stopped them before their lips met, causing them to pull back.
“Oh sorry,” Lampard said apologetically and made to close the door and leave.
“No wait!” Sharon called to her and got out of the bed. She gave Martinez one last look and told her she would see her at work and left. Martinez wanted to beg her to stay, but she did not.
Lampard walked in and closed the door behind her. “So you and the medical examiner, huh?” As she said that she turned and Martinez caught a glimpse of a red blotch on her neck.
“So you and your ex, huh?” She responded and point at Lampard’s neck. She watched as the other woman stared in shock at her image and pulled her collar up.
Martinez chuckled at her reaction. “No, it’s ok. It actually helps me.” She said, though the sight of what that blotch meant hurt her to the core. She suddenly wished Sharon would come back with more food and stupid movies.
“How are you feeling?” Lampard asked her.
“Good, I just have to stay for the night for observation,” Martinez said averting her gaze to the movie that was still playing.
“One more night?” Lampard asked her in shock taking her chart from the end of the bed and reading it.
“What are you doing?” Martinez asked.
“Just checking why you would need to stay here two nights, I didn’t think your injuries were that serious.”
Martinez had forgotten that she was Dr Sonya Lampard and not just a doctor with a PhD but one who actually had medical certifications.
“Wait, two nights?” She asked confused.
“Yes, it’s after seven in the morning. They told me you were leaving today so I came to give you a lift home.” Lampard responded.
“Oh, I thought it was still yesterday,” she responded. Martinez had always heard that time goes by really quickly when you were busy having fun, and apparently so did headaches.
Lampard looked at her quizzically and she knew they were probably thinking the same thing. Martinez quickly averted her gaze knowing it probably made her look guilty and for that moment she didn’t care.
“I will go get your release forms ready,” Lampard said and used that moment to walk out.
Less than an hour later she was giving Lampard directions to where she lived. And as they pulled up in the driveway, Lampard commented on how nice the house was.
“Thanks to Las Vegas gambling,” she said with a smile. “It’s a long story,” she finished seeing the confused look on Lampard’s face.
She only wanted to go inside and crawl into bed, but she knew that it would have been horrible to just send Lampard on her way after she had taken the time out to come get her at the hospital. Martinez knew she could be hostile, but she was not ungrateful and so she invited the woman in for a cup of tea.
“Can you give me some update on the case?” she asked the woman as they sat staring out the window.
Lampard told her of the chase that had ensued throughout the apartment complex as the elevators had been locked down and Sanchez had nowhere to go except the garbage shoot.
“He got away through the bloody garbage shoot,” Lampard finished and they laughed at the incredulity of the act.
“So no leads as to where he might be?”
“Well when I left they were following up a few. Nicole is there...” Lampard trailed off at the look that came across Martinez’s face at the mention of her ex girlfriend.
Martinez busied herself with drinking her tea to buy herself time to get rid of the emotions that were building up.
“You didn’t want me,” Lampard explain. “She was there and she made me feel wanted and for that moment I felt important.”
“So you tell me I am who you want, kiss me and then go off to screw some other woman?” Martinez asked sounding a lot more angry than she had wanted to.
“That’s not fair. You pushed me away every chance you got and you were mean. She made me forget that if it was even for a night, I needed that.”
Martinez understood exactly what she meant, because Sharon had given her the same thing, but she couldn’t shake the jealousy that was new to her and almost incontrollable.
“I have to go take a shower,” she said and got up from the table.
Once in her bedroom she took her hand from the sling and grimaced as she did so. She took a moment to tell medical innovators thanks for the water proof bandage that had been place on her wound, and stepped into the shower. As the water ran down her back she let the pass two nights wash from her system. She thought of it as the rain washing away the grime of the day and making everything fresh and renewed.
Then she felt a hand on her naked back, followed by a kiss. She turned in surprise to see that Lampard has stripped and joined her in the shower. She looked into the deep grey eyes that had the potential to destroy empires and any protest she had for the woman’s presence instantly disappeared. The warm water did not disguise the electricity flowing between then and she didn’t want it to. She leaned in and kissed her deeply and passionately.
It was a kiss of forgiveness and hope, and as their hands explored each other’s body she gave into the lust that had burnt holes in her. The pain in her arm only added to the pleasure as the intensity of the kisses quicken and Lampard’s gently fingers explored the treasure between her legs. From that moment she lost all sense of space and time. It was just her and Lampard experiencing each other in a way she had never experienced and connected with any other woman.
They paused long enough to move the love making to the bedroom, and as Lampard eased her onto the bed and climbed on top of her, she opened her legs and invited her to take her in the most intimate way. Martinez pulled Lampard in for a kiss and relished the feel of their most private parts meeting in blissful conversation for the first time. The contact sent her reeling and moaning in pure pleasure, as Lampard’s lips found her nipples that begged for attention.
The rest of the night passed by in an erotic blur, and she was not even sure when they had fallen asleep.
Once again it was the shrill ring of both their phones ringing that woke them, and as they reached for it, t
he clock on the side of the bed read 11pm. It was still early, but she smiled at a naked Lampard and briefly relived their day of love making.
“We have him,” Manning said excitedly on the other end and she looked at the guilty look on Lampard’s face realizing that Nicole must have called her with the same news.
They busied themselves getting ready and for the second time in a matter of weeks, she admired Lampard in a pair of her yoga pants, but this time her messy hair was testament to something else and it made her hot and bothered all over again.
They kissed as they rushed out the door making their way to the building Manning had said they had cornered Sanchez. Martinez smiled at the fact that for the first time in years she was not the one driving herself to work, and in that moment remembered she had no idea where her car was. It didn’t matter though, as she ran her hands through Lampard’s hair she thought maybe she would leave it where it was so she could have her drive her around.
She really loved the thought.
As they pulled up to the building, they made their way through the crowd that had gathered on the outside and the SWAT time that had made a barrier, they heard a couple gunshots go off on the far side of the two story house, in what looked to be a rather quiet suburban area. The gunshots echoed out into the night that went silent in reverence of it, but as the chief called for someone to update him on the radio, the crowd became uneasy.
“What the hell is going on in there?” The chief asked in urgency.
“He is dead,” came Manning’s voice over the radio. “But we will need an ambulance and quick. There are three women in here.”
“I can help them,” Lampard said and the chief nodded his approval she ran into the building. Martinez followed hot on her heels and had to stifle the urge to kick Sanchez’s dead body in the crotch.
Nicole looked at them both, similarly dressed and raised an eyebrow. Martinez ignored her and went over to where Lampard was bent removing and IV needle from the wrist of one of the girls. Three different paramedic groups raced into the empty room the girls were in and got busy.
Look Me in The Eyes (Keeping an Eye on Her Book 2) Page 3
