by Debra Erfert
They were alone. With it being midnight, that wasn’t too unusual in Joslyn’s neighborhood. There wasn’t any sight of the police as they walked to the front door. The only sounds Candice heard were the rustling of tall palm leaves from a light breeze, the soft scuffing of Liz’s boots on the concrete, and a sneeze. “Bless you.”
Candice’s heart was quietly speaking to her, too, of what might’ve been if she hadn’t been so . . . so what? Frightened of what a life with a cop would be like? Candice already knew the worst of that life when her parents died when she was eight.
“The security camera might’ve captured his face.” Candice clicked on the flashlight. “But I’m not holding my breath. I’ll check when I get back to my office. If there’s a good view, I’ll print it out and take it to Detective Adams tomorrow.”
“Before you show it to Joslyn?”
“I’ll let her know about it, but not tonight. There’s no sense in waking her up since Devin got away.”
“Unless the police are able to catch him.”
“Yeah, that.” Candice knelt down next to the doormat and lifted up the edge, exposing a half-sheet of lined paper covered in small block letters. “The toad had time.”
“Let me take those cuffs off you,” Liz said.
To Candice’s surprise, she saw her fishing out a handcuff key from a keychain.
“Where did you get that?”
“My brother Juan works part-time as a loss prevention officer at Monticello’s Boutique. He gave me a spare.”
As Liz moved the little steel key closer, Candice shook her head. “Better not.”
“Oh, come on. Let me free up one side. He can’t possibly think you’re escaping if we’re still here when he comes back.”
“Alex never saw the gray in the law, only black and white—right and wrong.”
“Alex?” Liz smiled widely. “You know him personally?”
Candice looked back down at the note lying mostly under the mat. “I know a lot of people. Leave the cuffs alone and let’s get the note into an evidence baggie.”
“Do you think Devin might’ve left prints on it this time?” Liz asked, taking the paper by the corner between her thumb and index finger like she was picking up something contaminated and stinky.
“Maybe. He’s an idiot or he wouldn’t be doing something as stupid as stalking his ex-girlfriend to begin with.” Candice let the mat drop and stood up. “Sooner or later he’ll do something careless, and then we’ll have him.”
“I think next time we should sit outside, closer to the house, and forget about taking his picture,” Liz said as they made their way back to Candice’s car.
“You shouldn’t be outside in cool air with that cold. Besides, don’t you have a class tomorrow night?”
“I do, plus two in the morning—” Liz sneezed again, holding the note out to the side, away from her face. Candice took it while Liz stuffed a tissue over her runny nose.
“I should’ve left you home.”
Taking care not to leave any more prints on the note than necessary, Candice managed to get the driver’s door open without dropping the paper and ruining any evidence that Devin might’ve accidentally left on it. Even opening the quart-sized plastic zip-top baggie proved more difficult with her wrists cuffed together. In the end, the latest death threat was safely sealed inside the bag just as a light beam flashed over her. Candice tucked the note inside a compartment in her backpack and turned in time to see Alex and Anna approach—without Devin Metz.
Alex dropped the flashlight’s beam to Candice’s hands before he clicked it off and slipped it into his belt. Without pause, he took out a set of keys and stopped so close in front of her, the familiar leather scent of his cologne filled her senses. She leaned a little closer, drawn to him in the way her body instinctively remembered being held in his arms, and took in another breath as she lifted her hands to make it easier for him to unlock them. After he had one side released, he turned her around to face the car and grasped her free hand. Candice was shocked when she was cuffed again. Liz’s eyes were round as she watched from in front of the car.
“Don’t do that again,” Alex told her with his his face close to her head.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly, afraid of what his answer would be.
“You’re under arrest!”
Chapter 2
“Sarge?” Anna asked, moving next to them, holding her hands out slightly. “What gives?”
“Sarge?” Candice’s eyes were drawn to Alex’s sleeve. She’d missed the chevrons sewn under the city patch. He was a sergeant, not a patrol officer like Anna.
“Stand down, Officer Eddington.” Alex grasped Candice by the upper arm and began leading her to his cruiser.
“Candice?” Liz asked. “What should I do?”
“Go home,” Alex told her.
“No! Call Uncle Homer and meet us at the police station,” Candice said from over her shoulder. “And secure my backpack and purse!”
Angry with Alex at being totally unreasonable, she walked as slowly as she could without actually dragging her feet, which would be considered resisting arrest. Giving him anything else to charge her with would be foolish. Technically, she’d run from Alex during a stop, and he could put her in jail for that. Great-uncle Homer was the best attorney—period, but knowing she wouldn’t stay in jail didn’t stop Candice’s heart from beating up into her throat, causing tears to burn behind her eyes.
Alex took her around to the passenger side of his car and opened the front door, and with his hand on her elbow he helped her climb up into the SUV. He slammed the door closed before going to the back. Through the side-view mirror, Candice watched him talk with Anna. Anna kept looking at her with a serious frown on her face. After she nodded at Alex, she turned and went to her own cruiser.
Anna’s voice came over the on-board radio as she talked with dispatch. “Baker 17, I’m cleared from scene.”
“Ten-four, Baker 17. You’re cleared from scene.”
A few moments later, she drove away, heading in the opposite direction.
It took another minute before Alex climbed into the driver’s seat, although he didn’t start the engine. Instead, he punched on the overhead light. He watched sat in silence, a frown on his face and his hands on the steering wheel, as Candice’s taillights disappearing down the street. The longer she stared at him, the more memories of their time together came flooding back—of their romance, and of when she told him she couldn’t see him any longer—memories she’d successfully blocked, until seeing his unhappy face again.
Alex was a supervisor. He had it in his discretion to kick her loose, but she had his handcuffs around her wrists, stopping her from leaving. Tonight, he had the power and she had none.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” Candice whispered, keeping her voice even and controlled. “I shouldn’t have run.”
Alex slowly nodded, dropping his hands to his lap. He then turned and captured her gaze. Her pulse jumped at the intensity in his dark blue eyes. “You’re right. If we’d had a chance to talk, I’m sure we could’ve worked through it.”
“Talk?” Candice didn’t understand. They didn’t have a chance to talk before she ran after Devin. It had been a split-second decision to go after him. For that matter, she had no idea that Alex was the officer behind her. “I didn’t have time. I had to at least try to get Metz.”
“Metz?”
“My suspect, Devin Metz.”
Alex looked out of the windshield. “Oh.”
His voice had had a hard edge to it. It suddenly occurred to Candice that they weren’t talking about the same thing. Alex was right. She’d run from him before. It was late and she was tired. Her shoulders drooped. “Are we really having this conversation again?”
“You had no business running from me once I had my lights on, and you know that. Using your profession is no excuse.”
“But I thought . . .” Had she misunderstood? It sounded like he’d brought up
their last night together. “Alex, why did you arrest me?”
He still wouldn’t look at her. “You know why.”
“Is it because I chased Devin Metz—” Candice straightened her shoulders and took a chance of bringing up their last argument again— “or was it because I broke up with you?”
He swung his head toward her, capturing her eyes. “I didn’t even know that was your car when I pulled up behind you. When we were together, you drove a Jeep.”
“Did you run my license plate?”
“Calling it in is standard procedure, but dispatch hadn’t come back with the information before you took off. I didn’t know it was you. Candice, you were chasing a dangerous man—are you carrying a gun?”
“Would you uncuff me, please? My fingers are throbbing badly.” She leaned forward, exposing her hands, and added quietly, “I promise I’m not armed, and I won’t run from you again.”
A few moments passed before Candice felt his fingers moving along the edge of one cuff. “It tightened. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I thought you were taking them off. You surprised me.” Candice had her cheek resting on her knee. “Actually, it shocked me more than anything. I wasn’t really trying to get away from you; having an officer with me if I caught up with Devin would’ve been perfect.”
Alex let out a slow sigh, but he removed the handcuffs quickly.
Candice sat up, bringing her hands to her chest as the blood rushed back to her fingers. She bit down a gasp.
“Why don’t you carry a gun?” Alex asked.
“Why should I? I’m an investigator. What I do isn’t risky.” Rubbing her hand helped ease the pins-and-needle pain coursing through her skin.
Alex reached over to her. From his sudden movement, Candice thought he was about to pull her into a hug. Instead, he frisked her—sort of. She pushed his hand away from her ribs. “What are you doing?”
“You aren’t wearing body armor.” He grabbed her right hand, the one in pain, and brought it to his chest. The steel plate under his shirt didn’t move at all. Candice knew that the thick layers of Kevlar of his bulletproof vest would stop just about anything sold in gun shops. “This is what will prevent a bullet from slicing my heart open when I’m chasing a bad guy—”
“But I wasn’t—”
“You were running after a man who has left four notes, threatening to kill your client and bury her diced body where no one will ever find it—that should tell you that he isn’t predictable, and unpredictable people are dangerous.” Alex hadn’t let her go, and Candice didn’t try to pull away.
Anna had told him more about the case. “Five.”
“Five what?”
Candice gazed at his hand holding hers. “I found another note under the doormat.”
“Where is it?” he asked, looking over her clothes.
“In an evidence bag in my backpack, on its way to the police station with Liz.”
“To give to Detective Adams?”
“Not tonight—probably tomorrow. I want to check it for fingerprints first.” When Alex frowned, she recaptured his disapproving stare and said, “This is why Joslyn hired me. I’m good at my job.”
Alex nodded, his lips in a flat line, neither smiling nor frowning. “I know. As we were walking back, Anna told me about how you found her birth parents last year. That was amazing.”
He sat in silence for a bit, and Candice felt he might’ve come around. “Am I still under arrest?”
With a shake of his head, Alex told her, “No. I’m pretty sure Homer would’ve thrown all sorts of fits if your ex-boyfriend booked you into jail—citing conflict of interest or some such thing.” He finally grinned enough so his dimples dipped. “By tomorrow, he would’ve had my badge and I would be asking you for a job.”
Candice pulled her hand away from his grasp. If she’d had Alex working as a partner in her business, then her life would be totally different today. As it was, he worked in one of the most dangerous fields.
“You’re doing all right.” With her gaze on him, she added, “You’re a sergeant. That’s good enough to support a family on. Are—are you engaged, or married—or anything?”
Alex’s head bobbed back. “Jen . . .”
Candice willed her heart to stop beating again. She turned away, staring out the side window. It had been a moronic question to begin with. How could a man as handsome—as nice—as Alex stay single? It didn’t matter how she rationalized it, knowing he found another woman hurt—even when it shouldn’t. She’d broken off their relationship for a good reason. That reason still existed. Alex was a cop. He put himself in danger every time he put on his uniform. He might as well be wearing a huge target on his back for bad guys to aim at.
A light puff of smoke drifted up through a street light across the ally. It diverted Candice’s attention away from her disappointment—her heartache—immediately. “It’s almost one. Why would anyone start their fireplace now?” A shiver raised the fine hairs along the edges of Candice’s scalp. Something was wrong. “Alex, start the car!”
“Candice—I’m not—”
“Please! Drive around the corner. I think there’s a fire.”
Alex leaned across Candice to look out the window. After a couple of moments, he said, “I don’t see—” He lowered the window. “I thought I saw something, but . . .”
He must’ve believed her, or he saw the smoke. Either way, Alex pushed the ignition button and brought the big engine to life.
“We’ll go check it out, just to be on the safe side.”
Candice didn’t particularly care why he took off down the street, just that he was driving closer. When they took the corner onto the next street, Alex slowed but kept rolling while they scoured for signs of a fire.
“There—on the right. Flames behind the front window. The drapes are on fire!” Candice unbuckled her seatbelt as Alex brought the SUV to a quick stop. He flipped on his blue and red overhead lights and took the mic off the dashboard. Candice didn’t wait to hear him call for the fire department before she swung the door open and ran to the porch.
Candice listened as she pushed the doorbell. Nothing. She pushed it again three times. Still no sound of a bell. Then she realized she didn’t hear any smoke alarms screaming, either. The electricity must’ve been off.
With the fire so near the door, Candice knew it would be foolish to kick it in. She needed to find another entrance, so she headed around to the side of the house where she thought a dining room might be. She got lucky. The fire must’ve just started and was centralized in the front room. She picked up a rock from the garden.
“You’re not going inside a burning house!” Alex grabbed her wrist, stopping her from smashing the window. “That’s crazy!”
Candice yanked her arm away. He might be right, but she knew about fires. “I have to, Alex. There’s a tricycle in the front yard!”
“We can wait for the firefighters—”
Cutting him off, Candice told him, “A fire doubles in size every minute, consuming oxygen and replacing it with scalding hot smoke. If there are people inside, then they’ll die before they can get here. Three minutes can make a difference between life and death!” She softened her voice. “I know what I’m doing. Trust me.”
Alex looked toward the street. Another few seconds dragged by before he nodded. “I’m coming in with you.”
Candice was about to argue when Alex took out a small metal baton from his belt and swung it hard, extending the length. With his arm in front of his face, he slammed the baton through the glass to the sill and then reached in and slid open the window. The smoke quickly followed the oxygen and billowed out over their heads.
“Tie a handkerchief over your nose and mouth, and breathe shallow,” Candice said, pulling up her turtleneck over her nose before climbing inside the house. The thin cloth might not do anything more than hide their faces, but any little bit should help. Without a real respirator, the kind the firefighters used, the smoke would get i
nto their lungs. Alex came in behind her, holding a flashlight. She didn’t have her backpack with her, which had leather gloves, breathing masks, and a strong flashlight. It was on its way to the police station with Liz.
“I need that,” Candice said, pointing at his Steamlight and crouching low where the air was clearer. He didn’t hesitate before letting her take it from his hand.
Using the small flashlight, Candice saw the front of the house engulfed in flames. The carpet around the burning couch melted like wet cotton candy. The fire licked along the ceiling, stretching toward the staircase. Smoke billowed through the rooms, filling the house with acrid poison that got lower every second.
The stairs were just off the dining room. She took them two at a time, yelling, “Your house is on fire! Wake up! Wake up!” By the time they reached the top landing, a woman opened her bedroom door. “You need to get out! Your house is on fire,” Candice shouted. “Is there anybody else in here?”
“My children—” she cried, “help me!”
“We are,” Candice said. “Come on.” She grabbed the woman’s arm when she tried to go back into her room. “Who else is in there?”
“No one,” she said. “I want to get my slippers and robe.”
“No!” Candice pulled her away from her room while the smoke snaked up the staircase and along the hall ceiling. “How many children?”
“Three.” She coughed while holding up three fingers.
“Get down on the floor.” Candice pushed her to her knees.
Alex pushed open the closest door and went inside. Smoke rolled in with him, clinging to the ceiling. Candice aimed the flashlight inside for Alex to follow the beam out of the dark. A few seconds later, he carried a baby covered in a blanket. Good idea! The mother took the child from him before he strode to the next door. A bathroom.
