Bailey: Independence #1

by Karen Nichols

  Her uncles hadn’t only taught her to handle her alcohol.

  Bailey hefted the bat, wrapping both hands firmly around the tape bound end and let it lean on her shoulder. She moved on quiet, bare feet down the hardwood flooring in the hall. She’d heard the door slam a few minutes ago and headed toward the front of the house. She slipped her feet into the heels that had come off when they entered the house and bent to absently collect her dress and purse, laying them both on one of the chairs before reaching for the doorknob.

  When she opened it just a little, she could hear Gabriel talking but it was completely one sided.

  “Yes, get the police out here immediately. Ask for Lieutenant Templeton,” Gabriel snarled angrily, pacing over the cold concrete without shoes.

  Bailey could see the butt of the gun sticking out of the back of his slacks in the hollow of his back. One hand was up raking and occasionally pulling at his hair as he paced, listened and talked.

  “Yes, I’m fucking sure she’s dead. Thanks,” he snapped the phone closed in time to hear the tiny whimper. He spun to find Bailey staring at the blonde sprawled across the driveway, her head twisted and facing the house, eyes wide open and a trickle of blood leaving the corner of her mouth. Gabriel swore loudly, the bat Bailey had on her shoulder falling to the concrete and ignored when she took a step forward, her palm over her mouth. “Bailey, I told you to stay in the bathroom!”

  “She…she might be…” red curls shook slightly, her chest rising and falling erratically. She took a few determined steps forward, ready to go down on one knee and check for a pulse when she was swept from the ground.

  “Inside, Bailey or I swear you won’t be able to sit all next week.” He pushed the words through his teeth at the same time the sirens began at the end of the drive. He set her on the concrete, his hands on her shoulders.

  “She’s dead,” Bailey breathed raggedly. “She was just at the party. She was alive…she…”

  Before Gabriel could comment she folded against him, the whites of her eyes the last thing he saw before catching her up against him. A long string of expletives broke free when the hostile detective was the first to arrive from the head vehicle, the lieutenant’s car coming up behind her but not nearly in time.

  “Another one, huh Garrett?” Derisive eyes took in the redhead lying unconscious in his arms. “She next on your list?”

  “Don’t piss me off more, Detective,” he turned and started toward the door when a voice called out to him.

  “Gabe!” Tre Thorne walked beside Natalie Templeton, his palm settled possessively at her waist. They had been having a quiet Saturday at home when the call came in and he’d chosen to come with her.

  “Tre,” Gabriel looked from the man to the woman. “Congratulations. Come inside. I have to get Bailey wrapped in something warm and see about…”

  “I can help with that,” Tre turned and went back to the SUV, pulling his black bag from the special compartment in the back and jogging to join Gabe. “I’ll be inside, Natalie.”

  “You’re friends?” She looked at her husband and scowled at her new partner. She didn’t like the woman’s attitude and hadn’t been able to find an explanation for it other than the man’s lifestyle bothered her.

  “For more than a few years,” Tre stopped and met her gaze. “He’s not a killer, Natalie. He might make different choices than we do, but that’s not a crime.”

  “Are you one of them, too?” The detective looked her partner’s husband up and down.

  “I’m going to help Gabe with his friend,” Tre didn’t respond to her taunt, just shook his head and walked away, the door closing firmly behind him.

  Natalie did what she did best: she worked the crime scene, the back of her mind making a note to do some background checking on her new partner. Something was definitely off. Objective didn’t seem to be a word in her vocabulary, at least not as far as Gabriel Garrett was concerned.

  Gabe paced the floor, both hands up and pulling on dark hair long ago disheveled.

  “She just fainted, Gabe, relax,” Tre chuckled and tucked the blanket around her shoulders. “What happened?”

  “That’s my question,” Natalie walked in, the detective close behind. She had been warned to keep her thoughts to herself and Natalie was prepared for a battle if she ignored the advice. “Is she alright?”

  “She was supposed to stay in the bathroom,” Gabriel said firmly, frustrated. “The external alarms went off and I went to check. I told her to lock herself in the bathroom and stay there until I came for her. She ignored me, obviously, found my baseball equipment in the closet and came outside armed to do battle. She didn’t scream, I’ll give her that. She was going to check for a pulse when I stopped her and…I told her she was dead. Then I saw her eyes roll back and she went down. I caught her first and was about to bring her inside when your detective peeled up my driveway.”

  “You didn’t touch anything?” Natalie asked, somehow knowing he hadn’t. But it was procedure.

  “Not a thing. I didn’t need to touch her to know she was dead,” he said flatly, the soft groan from the sofa sending him to sit on the edge, his palm running over her face. “Welcome back. We need to work on your listening skills, Bailey.”

  “She’s dead,” came the whisper seconds before she launched herself against him, arms clinging tightly to his throat. “Why is this happening?”

  “Do you know her?” The detective demanded, scowling at her lieutenant for not moving forward.

  “I know her. I knew her,” he corrected himself. “I haven’t seen her in over ten years,” Gabe settled back on the sofa, easily holding Bailey on his lap. “Her name is Belinda Blake. We were married all of three months when I was twenty-two. We parted on decent enough terms and like I said, I hadn’t seen her since then.”

  “Where were you tonight, Mr. Garrett?”

  “Lieutenant, I think it’s safe for you to call me Gabriel. We left the house about five-thirty for a friend’s anniversary party out in Gig Harbor,” Gabe recited the names and address. “Emma and Jeremy have been together now four years and they threw a party. While we were there, however, Belinda put in an appearance. She wasn’t invited and…”

  “She caused a scene,” Bailey said simply, dragging in a rough breath and pushing to sit up. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember ever fainting before,” she looked around, blinking at the man watching her.

  “Dr. Thorne. I tried telling him you were okay, but he worried.” Tre snapped his bag closed and went to Natalie. “I’ll wait in the car for you.”

  “Thanks, Tre.” Gabriel watched him leave, the eyes of the police on him. “We play on the same men’s baseball team. We’ve been friends for over six years. I didn’t know he had married.”

  “You’re just surrounded by coincidence,” the detective muttered flatly. “Did you speak to the woman at the party?” She asked, stepping closer to Bailey and studying her. “No clothing?”

  “We were in bed,” Bailey said with a shove from his lap. She stood up and threw the blanket to the sofa. She took the few steps toward the detective in glaring defiance and anger. “We came home from the party and were in bed when the alarms sounded. Gabriel told me to hide and I didn’t listen because I was worried about him. Do you have someone in your life you worry about, detective? Do you know what it’s like to care about someone enough to fight for them? Or are you lonely and spiteful so you take it out on innocent people? We’ve been together since Friday evening, aside from bathroom breaks,” she added with a shake of her head.

  “You were never out of one another’s sight the whole evening?”

  “Gabriel and I were together all night,” Bailey repeated firmly. “It was a nice party. Emma is…she’s happy and fun. Having that woman show up wasn’t pleasant, but Jeremy and Gabriel escorted her to the car she came in. I guess the driver took her back…to wherever she was staying, I guess.”

  “She had a driver?” Natalie rubbed the back of her neck.

&
nbsp; “She had a driver,” Gabriel answered. “I told her to leave. I escorted her, very much alive, since she screamed loud enough to piss off the neighbors, to her car and told the driver to return her. I returned to the party with Jeremy and we left there a little over an hour ago. We came straight home and got ready for bed.”

  “You live here with him?” The detective looked Bailey up and down derisively.

  “What exactly is wrong with you? Are you this annoying with all people or do you just hate us?” Bailey wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe the frustration had been building because of the murders. Maybe the woman just managed to get on her last nerve. She took a step forward only to find a strong, solid arm around her waist, lifting her to the side with a masculine laugh.

  “Much as I’d love to see you take her on, you don’t need to be arrested for assaulting an officer,” Gabriel turned his back on the detective, his head down and touching hers. “Don’t let her get to you, Bailey.”

  “My detective will wait outside while I finish this interview,” Natalie ground the words between her teeth, violet eyes flashing with anger. “Now.”

  The woman stomped and slammed the door behind her.

  “I don’t know what her problem is with you but I intend to find out. Have you turned up anything to explain why you’ve been targeted?” Natalie Templeton asked with a hopeful expression that fell at the look on his face.

  “I wish I had. I didn’t have any animosity against Belinda,” Gabriel pressed Bailey into the sofa and covered her with the blanket. She’d been shivering. “Like I said, I haven’t had anything to do with her or her family in a very long time.”

  “Do you know where her next of kin might be?”

  “Her family lives outside Napa. They have a ranch next to my father’s vineyard. I don’t know their numbers, I’m sorry. I know her sister is here in Seattle, but I don’t know where. She came to me at the office on Thursday and I went to dinner with her because she said she had something important to discuss with me.” Gabriel ran one hand through his hair, rubbing his neck. He shook his head. “She didn’t. She wanted me to meet with Belinda because she claimed her sister was still in love with me. I told her I wasn’t interested. I told her I’d moved forward.”

  He met Bailey’s eyes without backing down, the tint of color in her cheeks making him smile.

  “Thank you for your help and for co-operating, Mr.…Gabriel. I know you aren’t responsible for the deaths,” Natalie said thoughtfully. “I hate making reports. Good night,” she sighed and left the house.

  Gabriel dropped to his heels in front of Bailey, his palm beneath her chin.

  “We’ll talk about how well you handle instructions tomorrow. I’m going outside and make sure things are cleaned up, then I’ll reset the gates. Get undressed and get into bed. I think we need some sleep,” he leaned in and kissed the silent lips, his thumb brushing the tear off her cheek. “I should have asked Tre if he had some sleeping pills for you.”

  “I’m alright, thank you.” She slipped to the side and climbed to her feet. The blanket trailed behind her down the hall and into the bedroom.

  Gabriel exhaled shakily. He’d never been conflicted as a master before Bailey. He knew he wasn’t interested in a sub on a twenty-four hour a day basis, so why did it bother him that she acted on her own?

  Because it involved her safety, he argued flatly.

  He stood on the porch, oblivious to the cold as the last of the police finished and drove from the property. He was relieved to see that the detective was nowhere to be seen but he was as curious as the Lieutenant about her behavior. Maybe a little look into the detective’s background was in order.

  Bailey had stripped off the shirt and positioned herself in the center of the bed. She lay staring into the night. She hadn’t bothered with the lights. She knew she’d made a big mistake in one portion of their life. And she’d have to accept whatever punishment he felt necessary. In that portion of their life, she repeated to herself. But she was not sorry. She’d been terrified he’d be hurt. If the murderer had waited, if the murderer had wanted to kill him, she would have stared into those beautiful dark eyes, wide and empty.

  Tears broke free, her eyes squeezed tightly together. She didn’t move when the bed dipped and the warm, male body pressed against her from behind. She held a pillow tight against her, her arms wrapped around it and face pressed into the down.

  “I’m not sorry, Gabriel. I was so worried,” she whispered hoarsely. “I’m not a shelf type.”

  “I don’t remember seeing my shirt and baseball bat looking quite so good before,” he ran his palm over her head. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, Bailey. Go to sleep,” he kissed the back of her head, his palm slipping around her waist and holding her close.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He never questioned how he knew. He just knew when things weren’t right. Even half conscious. Especially when the warm body he’d been contentedly wrapped around was no longer where she should be. Then he heard the mild curse and knew it was Bailey. He expected her to come back to bed and curl into the warmth considering November was coming in like a bitch and he’d forgotten to adjust the thermostat.

  But the space beside him remained empty. And was getting colder by the minute.

  Gabriel sat up slowly, ignored the unkempt hair falling over one eye and listened. She was in the outer room. His gaze went to the bureau where he’d left her clothing and the frown deepened. He did not like the answer that came to mind.

  A low curse left his lips when he shoved his legs over the edge of the bed, the cold of the night had settled in and was in vast conflict with the past few days where it had actually been warm. Jeans were ripped off the chair and his legs shoved into them, leaving them open until he went to the bathroom. The zipper came up as he stalked down the hallway.

  She stood next to the breakfast bar, bent intently in the dark at barely seven in the morning on a Sunday. He figured she was bent so she could see whatever it was she was intently focused on writing. He recognized his notepad, her right hand moving slowly over the surface.

  Gabriel moved into the room and leaned against the door. He crossed his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. Loudly.

  Bailey really believed she could get away without being noticed. Her fingers tightened on the pen and she stood up, absently tugging on the hem of her dress and too damn aware that she hadn’t had panties on since Friday! And it was fricking cold in this house!

  “Uhh…good morning.”

  “No, Bailey, a good morning would be you and me still beneath the warm blankets and making it a hell of sight warmer with a wake up fuck.” Gabriel saw the slight wince at his words. “Or two. Since the last time or two we’ve been interrupted. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Going home. I’m sorry I woke you,” she said with a trace of the firm resolve in her voice. “I…umm…I was leaving you a note.”

  “A note,” he repeated, mildly pissed off and rising considerably.

  “Well, I don’t have my phone and can’t send you a text,” she threw back defiantly.

  Bailey closed her eyes when he crossed the room and lifted the notebook. She figured it was good that he hadn’t gone all master on her yet and was just cold, confused guy. Although she really wasn’t sure there was a big difference at the moment.

  She shivered but refused to move when he came closer. Brain was telling her to step away from him and body was telling her he was generating some serious heat and she was cold. So she stayed put.

  “Gabriel, thank you for a nice weekend?” He read the words and looked at her in disbelief.

  “Well, it was mostly nice,” she murmured.

  “Given the issues, I believe it would be best if I returned to my apartment. I have locks and will be fine, thank you for worrying. Sincerely, Bailey.” Gabriel let the notebook slap against the counter. “The issues,” he repeated flatly.

  “I think it might be better to…the people being
killed…” Bailey swore all the words she wanted had been in her head minutes before. Now? Poof! Gone. Damn cowards.

  “Alright, give me a few minutes to dress and I’ll drive you to your apartment.” Gabriel left her standing there gaping at him, wide eyed and open mouthed.

  Oh, no. Bailey paced the room. It can’t possibly be that simple. She stared at the hall, frowning and shivering before she went to the thermostat and set the temp to seventy. He was up to something, she knew it.

  “This is really, really sweet of you, Gabriel, but you don’t have to take me home. I can easily call up a cab and…” Bailey knew there were more words but she was pretty sure she swallowed them whole when he backed her against the front door of the house.

  “It’s barely thirty-five degrees outside. You don’t have underwear on and you don’t have a coat. Do you honestly believe I’m letting you loose dressed like that?” He had his hands up and on either side of her head.

  “Oh. Well…”

  “Let’s go.” Gabriel reached for the keys with one hand and grasped her wrist with the other. He didn’t doubt for a second she’d run if given the chance. And he was damn sure not offering her that choice.

  Bailey stumbled after him, scowling until she thumped against him when he came to a stop outside the SUV. She watched the garage door rise as she climbed inside, shivering and really a little more than glad she wasn’t standing on the side of the road waiting for a taxi.

  “You don’t have to pull and push at me,” she wrapped the shawl tightly around her and fastened the seatbelt.

  “You’re shaking like a tree in a storm,” he ground out flatly. “I should have thrown one of my coats around you.”

  “Yeah, well…it was warm on Friday,” she shrugged. “Weather. Who knew. The point is, I’m not making a mad dash for freedom.”

  “Really? And here I thought that’s what the note meant,” Gabriel heard the anger in his voice and wondered where it was coming from. He’s the one who told her he wasn’t interested in someone clinging. He’s the one who told her it was all about the play and nothing more.