Returning Tides

by Radclyffe

  “As you can see,” Enzo said with a sardonic smile, “the reports of my death were exaggerated.”

  “Not easy to fool my father.” Rica turned her head ever so slightly to glance out of the corner of her eye at the bedside table. The top drawer was still open a few inches. She hoped her gun was still inside and that Enzo had not seen it.

  “You have your FBI friends to thank for that.” Enzo shifted his weight so his crotch rested more tightly against Rica’s stomach and traced the underside of her breast with the muzzle of his H&K. “They made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I provide information on your father and his associates, they make sure all the reports, including DNA, support my death.”

  “It worked. No one suspected.” Rica pushed her hips into the bed, recoiling from the press of his erection. She had to find some way to distract him so she could get to her gun, and she didn’t have much time. She didn’t know when Carter would be home, but it would be soon. If Enzo was still here, Carter would walk in, unsuspecting, and Enzo would gun her down. Rica had to find a way to kill him first, or give him what he wanted so he would leave.

  “And since everyone thought I was dead, all I had to do was slip away from my keepers. They couldn’t very well tell anyone they’d lost me.” Enzo chuckled and slid the pistol barrel higher, dragging it painfully back and forth across Rica’s nipple. “You and I have unfinished business. I’ve watched her pretend to fuck you, you know. She can’t give you what you really need. After I show you, you’ll understand that. You won’t ever want to think of Carter again.”

  Rica froze, the breath stilling in her chest. He was insane, and from the venomous way he spoke Carter’s name, she understood why he had risked his freedom to come here. Carter, in his mind, had stolen her away from him. Carter had bested him. Carter had taken what he believed to be his. Enzo was going to rape her to reassert his claim on her, but that was never going to be enough. No matter what he did to her, no matter what she said to him, he would still need to destroy the invader who had dared violate his territory. He would kill Carter, and that was something she couldn’t let happen. Her only hope was to catch him off guard. She just needed a second or two, even if she only managed to wound him enough to make him flee. Even if he killed her in the process. She wouldn’t let him take everything that mattered to her—he would not take Carter. She only had to distract him for a few precious seconds. Rica ignored the pistol playing back and forth over her breasts and reached for the button on his pants.

  “What are you waiting for?”

  *

  Reese’s phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her pants pocket. “Conlon.”

  “The deck door is open. The glass is cut out,” Bri said. “He’s inside.”

  “That light upstairs—that’s the bedroom?”

  “Yes, the master. I can get up there—”

  “Negative. I need eyes in that room before we move in.” Reese surveyed the street for a possible vantage point. The house next to Rica and Carter’s was a large two-story with a wraparound deck on the second level. “Hold your position. Do you have your radio?”

  “Yes.”

  “Go to Tac one. Smith and Chang are on Tac two in their cruiser.”

  “Roger.”

  Reese quickly cut across the street to the side of the residence adjacent to Carter and Rica’s. She saw no car in the driveway but couldn’t be certain the house was empty. If she rang the bell and ordered them to evacuate, they were likely to turn on the lights, including the one on the front porch. She didn’t want to do anything that might alert the intruder to a police presence. At this point, the neighbors weren’t going to be placed in any significant danger if she didn’t alert them to what was going on. She didn’t intend to engage in a firefight. If she fired, it would be a kill shot.

  Securing her rifle diagonally across her back, Reese climbed up on the railing of the rear deck, stretched upward, jumped, and grasped the lower edge of the deck above. She pulled herself up and then carefully climbed over the railing and skirted low along the side of the house until she was opposite the lighted window forty feet away. The builders had been smart enough not to place facing windows directly opposite each other, and she had a wall at her back, affording further protection to any occupant of the house if the suspect should fire at her. Resting her rifle on the railing for support, she sighted through the scope into Rica and Carter’s bedroom.

  *

  “Why the change of heart?” Enzo said, automatically thrusting his hips forward as Rica inched down the zipper on his fly. His gaze drifted down, away from her face, to her hands.

  “You’re here. She’s not.” Rica watched his eyes lose focus just a little as she slid her fingers along the ridge of flesh she slowly exposed. Adding what she knew he believed would be true, she said, “Besides, I want to enjoy it.”

  He pressed the gun between her breasts and pushed up the peach silk nightgown with his free hand, exposing her bare stomach and the matching panties. He grunted as her fingers closed around him.

  “And we are going to enjoy it,” Rica whispered, aware that the automatic still pointed at her throat. Until he moved it to a position where he wouldn’t kill her instantly if he fired, she couldn’t do anything but keep on with the course she had plotted. Numbing her mind to everything except her ultimate goal, to keep Carter safe, she pretended to enjoy what she was doing.

  *

  Carter punched in Reese’s number as she rocketed down Bradford, swerved around the cruiser blocking the intersection closest to her street, and jammed to a halt on the shoulder. When Reese picked up, she shouted, “I’m just pulling up at the bottom of the hill. Is she all right?”

  “We’ve got an intruder.” Reese spoke softly into her phone, assessing what she could see through the window. Rica was not visible, but it wasn’t difficult to decipher the scenario in front of her. She could make out the head and shoulders of a man who appeared to be kneeling on the bed. He was oddly motionless. She didn’t see a weapon, and until she knew if he was armed, she couldn’t risk moving in prematurely. Right now, surprise was on their side. If he knew they were out there, they’d have a hostage situation on their hands, or worst-case scenario, he’d kill Rica and opt for suicide by cop. “Late thirties, black hair, dark eyes, looks Mediterranean.”

  “It’s Enzo. It’s gotta be Enzo,” Carter gasped, running full out up the street. There were no streetlights, so she didn’t have to worry about being seen, but she kept to the shadows, slowing as she neared her house. Every instinct screamed at her to barge inside, to find Rica, to destroy whoever threatened her. But her cop instincts were just as strong, telling her to slow down, telling her to listen to Reese. Telling her to trust Reese. “Reese. He’ll hurt her.”

  “No, he won’t,” Reese said quietly. “Bri is on your rear deck. Meet her, move inside and upstairs. Do not attempt to enter the bedroom until I give the order.”

  “Okay. Okay.”

  Carter shoved the phone in her pocket, pulled her weapon, and ran to join Bri. She had to get inside that house. She had to get to Rica, and then she was going to kill him.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Rica was running out of time. She despised Enzo and loathed touching him, but she made herself keep watching his face to judge when his focus started to dissolve. She couldn’t think about what she saw in his smug expression—the victory and the pleasure. She gasped when he lifted himself a few inches off her body, wrapped her flimsy panties in his fist, and yanked. The material tore away, chafing roughly over her unprotected flesh, and he laughed when she couldn’t stifle a small cry. The pistol in his right hand wavered, swinging back and forth in front of her face, as his eyes dropped back to her fingers clenched around him. She picked up speed, waiting for his control to falter and his reflexes to slow.

  “You’re not trying to make me come, are you,” he panted, his thighs still clamped around her hips like a vise. He pushed and pulled himself through her fingers, his tempo fast and err
atic. “That’s right. You’re good…at this.”

  “I’m ready,” Rica whispered, praying she would be fast enough.

  “Spread your legs and put me inside,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Hurry up.”

  “I can’t with you where you are,” Rica said, trying to sound eager. “Move down, Enzo, so I can put you where you belong. Come on, baby, I want you—”

  Enzo grunted and shoved himself down until he was no longer straddling her hips. When he shifted his leg to force it between hers, freeing her of his weight for just a second, Rica quickly jerked both knees up to her chest and rolled off the bed, scrambling for the drawer in the bedside table. She heard his furious roar, and even as her hand closed around the pistol grip, she knew she was too late. The gunshot, or maybe it was her scream, was deafening.

  *

  At the sound of the shot, Carter elbowed Bri aside and shouldered through the door into the bedroom, panning the room with her weapon, her stomach clenched into a knot. Two bodies on the floor. Blood everywhere. Globs of maroon splattered on the bed, the dresser, the wall. Ribbons of crimson streaking down Rica’s face and chest.

  “Rica,” Carter moaned, rushing forward. Bri was right beside her and grabbed the suspect’s shoulder, jerked him over, and trained her gun on his body. Carter fell to her knees next to Rica. “Baby! Oh Jesus, Rica!”

  Rica shuddered and opened her eyes. When she saw Carter, she cried out and threw herself into Carter’s arms.

  “Are you hurt?” Carter shouted, clutching Rica to her chest. She rocked her, searching her body with one hand, looking for injuries. “Baby, are you hit?”

  Wordlessly, Rica shook her head and burrowed closer into Carter.

  “Is he dead?” Carter rasped, her hot eyes on the man splayed on the floor.

  “Yes,” Bri said, removing the weapon from Enzo’s hand. She radioed Reese. “We’re code four here.”

  “Rica?” Reese’s voice came back staticky over the radio.

  “She’s okay.” Bri glanced over to the shattered window, then down to the man lying in a pool of blood at her feet. She couldn’t see the entry wound that must be in the back of his head, but the exit wound had taken out most of his forehead. “We’ll need the coroner.”

  “I’ll call her and get officers out here for crowd control. You have the scene.”

  “Roger that.” Bri knelt down beside Carter and Rica. Carter’s eyes were closed now, her face pressed to Rica’s hair. Bri gripped Carter’s shoulder. “I think you can take her to another room. I’ll make sure the scene is undisturbed until Reese gets here.”

  “Thanks,” Carter said gruffly. She got to her knees and eased Rica up with her. “Come on, baby. Let me get you out of here.”

  *

  Tory tapped on the bedroom door next to the crime scene and eased into the room. Rica sat stiffly on the side of the bed, Carter next to her, holding her hand. Rica’s nightgown was splotched with darkened patches of blood, as were her bare shoulders and neck. Tory set her equipment bag down in the center of the floor and took out her camera.

  “Rica, I need to take some photos, gather a few samples, and then you can get into the shower.” Tory smiled at Carter, who looked so wired she was about to fly apart. “Carter, maybe you could get things ready for her. Make sure the bathroom is nice and steamy and find a robe and lots of fluffy towels.”

  Carter looked uncertain, but Rica said in a low, flat voice, “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

  “I’ll just be in the other room if you need me,” Carter said, brushing Rica’s cheek with her fingertips.

  Rica watched until Carter had closed the bathroom door behind her, then smiled wanly at Tory. “Thank you. She doesn’t need to hear this.”

  “She probably does,” Tory said casually, moving back and forth in front of Rica, getting the photos she needed for her report. “You’ll probably want to tell her, too, but you’ll know when the right time is.” She finished and stowed the camera away. Then she donned gloves and assembled a number of specimen containers. Moving closer so she could speak softly, she said, “Tell me what happened.”

  After a pause, Rica recounted the events while Tory quickly and efficiently took scrapings from Rica’s nails, collected flakes of blood from her skin, and plucked errant hairs from her nightgown and body. Rica’s voice shook when she described what she had done to distract Enzo. She glanced toward the closed bathroom door. “I don’t know how to tell her that.”

  Tory affixed labels to specimen envelopes and jars and stored them in her case. Then she sat next to Rica and took her hand. “What you did was incredibly brave.” She laughed softly. “Maybe just a little bit crazy risky too. Carter knows you love her. And she loves you. She’s not going to be upset about anything you had to do to survive.” Tory slid her arm around Rica’s shoulders and hugged her. “Trust me on this. Trust her.”

  “I was so afraid Carter would come back and Enzo would kill her.” Rica felt the terror for the first time, really felt it deep inside, and she couldn’t stop the tears. “I was afraid he would kill me and then her.”

  “You stopped that from happening. You did really well.” Tory held Rica tightly as she sobbed, and when the bathroom door burst open and Carter vaulted into the room, her eyes wild with worry, Tory shook her head. “She’s all right. She just needs to do this for a few minutes.”

  Carter leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes. “As long as she needs.”

  After a few minutes, Rica straightened and brushed trembling fingers over her face. “Did I shoot him?”

  Tory glanced at Carter, who nodded for her to go ahead. “No, you didn’t. Reese shot him. She told me if you hadn’t done what you did, if you hadn’t gotten him to move, she wouldn’t have had a clear shot. She couldn’t see the gun earlier.”

  “I would have shot him,” Rica murmured. “I would have killed him and I don’t think I would have felt a thing.”

  “The bastard deserved it.” Carter strode across the room and squatted down in front of Rica, taking her hands. “Baby, he assaulted you. He killed an FBI agent and knifed another one. He would have hurt you, baby.”

  Rica smiled weakly and squeezed Carter’s hands. “I’m all right. Really.” She turned to Tory. “Can I get clean now?”

  Her eyes steady on Rica, Tory asked, “Do I need to collect sexual forensic evidence?”

  “No. He never touched me.”

  “Then I think Carter owes you a shower.”

  *

  Reese watched dispassionately as the two medics zipped up the black body bag and lifted it onto the stretcher for transport to the clinic. When the room had cleared, she picked up Tory’s equipment bag while Tory disposed of her gloves and washed her hands in the bathroom.

  “All set?” Reese asked when Tory emerged.

  Tory took one last look around the room, then studied the shattered window. “That was quite a shot.”

  Reese looked over her shoulder to the house next door. Lights blazed in most of the windows now. She had sent officers to speak to the neighbors and assure everyone that there was no danger, but with three patrol cars and two ambulances outside in the street, the entire neighborhood was awake. From her vantage point on the opposite deck, she’d been pretty certain of what was happening in this room, although her view was obstructed most of the time. And there hadn’t been any question in her mind when Rica had bolted upright and the suspect, after catching his balance, had swung his pistol in her direction. Reese had had a millisecond to determine that Rica was not in her line of fire and that Rica was in imminent danger. She’d shot him in the head because she couldn’t risk a body shot that might not have completely and instantaneously disabled him. Head shots weren’t usually recommended, because the target was so much smaller than a center mass shot, but she had to stop him in his tracks before his nervous system could telegraph a signal to his finger to pull the trigger. She couldn’t risk him shooting Rica, so she aimed for the medulla at the back of
his head.

  “Short-range shot,” Reese said. “Every Marine is a marksman.”

  “And thank God for that,” Tory murmured, brushing her hand over Reese’s chest. “Are you all right?”

  Reese sighed and took in the room and the remains of a near tragedy. “About taking out the suspect? Yes. But I’m not happy he got to her. I think I should’ve seen this coming.”

  “Of course you should have,” Tory said with an edge. “Because you’re clairvoyant in addition to being indestructible and…”

  “Hey,” Reese said gently. “Everybody’s fine.”

  Tory slid her arms around Reese’s waist. “When I saw you leave the house with that rifle, I knew it was going to be bad. I was frightened.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No. No apologies.” Tory leaned back and smiled wryly. “And I’m sorry for nagging you. Get some sleep, and in the morning you and the rest of your team can go over all of this. If you missed something, you’ll find it. But Rica’s all right, and that’s what matters.”

  “Thanks.” Reese kissed her. “Let’s go home.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Allie’s phone vibrated on the table next to the bed, and she stretched carefully for it with her good right arm, trying not to wake Ash. KT had finally given her permission to go home around midnight, stating she was satisfied that Allie’s wound wasn’t going to require surgery. Allie had taken the prescribed pain pill, and the minute she and Ash had climbed into bed, she’d cuddled up in Ash’s arms and checked out. In the soft light of early morning, Ash still looked exhausted, her face drawn and pale with dark circles under her eyes. Allie figured she probably looked as bad, but she didn’t feel too terrible. Her arm hurt like anything, but mostly, she was happy. She had a lot to be happy about. She’d helped catch a perp yesterday, and best of all, she’d just woken up next to Ash.