“Definitely. Here.” He spooned some more and held it out to her. “Try it.”
She laughed. “I have a spoon.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to wait that long.” He pushed the morsel toward her and she opened her lips to take the sugary confection into her mouth. Chocolate and sweet vanilla melted on her tongue. But it was the smoky look in his eyes that had her swallowing. Hard. “Wow.”
“Yeah,” he whispered. “Wow. You are so beautiful.”
Gisella felt her heart stutter. She blinked and gave a shaky laugh. “Um, thanks.”
“Seriously. You have a goodness in you that shows from the inside out. How do you keep that from getting snuffed out with the kind of job that you do?”
His question made her stop and think. “I don’t know, Brock. I guess I just keep my relationship with the Lord where it needs to be. Even though I have ups and downs like everyone else, I know I’m doing what He wants me to do with my life and I kind of figure as long as I’m doing that, He’s going to take care of the rest. You know?”
“I envy that.”
Cocking her head, she looked at him. “Why? Aren’t you doing what you’re supposed to be doing?”
He blew out a sigh. “Sometimes I wonder, but yeah, most days I believe that I am. And I prayed today for the first time in a long time. It felt good. And right.”
She still noticed reservation in his voice. “Then what’s the problem?”
“Just all the junk we have to put up with.” He kept his voice low. Another bite disappeared before he continued. “Then there’s the feeling of being unappreciated. And the feeling that for every bad guy we put away, two more step up to take his place.”
Gisella nodded and dipped her spoon for another bite. “I know what you mean, but I can’t think about it that way. I think about the fact that when I arrest a drug dealer, I’m saving someone’s child, someone’s brother or sister.” She looked at him, deep into his eyes. “We make a difference, Brock. You have to believe that.” Pulling in a deep breath, she sat back and set her spoon down. “At least I have to.”
His hand reached out to cover hers and his touch sent shivers all over her once more. Giving her fingers a squeeze, he said, “I’m finished whining.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Now, come on, I want to get back to the hotel and check on something.”
Gisella stood and pulled out her money. She left a five-dollar bill on the table. “Check on what?”
“I requested a background check on Chris Locke. I asked for it to be emailed to me.” He held up his phone. “I just got it, but don’t want to read it on here. It’s much easier on the laptop. I thought we could go back to the room and see what Mr. Locke and his surly attitude have been up to.”
She grunted. “This whole town feels like one big surly attitude.”
He agreed and she led the way to the car thinking about the moment back in the restaurant where he’d shared his dessert with her. With a quiver in her belly, she decided Brock could probably be an incredibly romantic guy.
She wondered if she’d get the chance to be the recipient of that romance.
And realized she wanted to be.
In a really bad way.
Please, Lord, protect not just my physical well-being, but my emotional well-being, too. Cover my heart. Help us solve this case and put it behind us.
Within minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot and Gisella had to push aside her emotions and focus on what needed to be done. From the vehicle window, she could see her room and noted with relief that it appeared to be untouched, the Do Not Disturb sign still in place.
She still wanted to know why the hinges had been oiled.
Stepping out of the car, she followed slowly, her eyes scanning the area. While she’d noticed Brock doing the same thing, she couldn’t help her own perusal.
It was kind of spooky the way she felt constantly watched. Night was coming and she wondered what it might bring. Danger? A peaceful few hours of rest?
Or another threat telling her to leave town?
Brock opened his door and they stepped inside. He pulled his laptop from beneath the mattress and Gisella bit back a grin.
“What?” he asked when he looked up.
She motioned to the computer. “That’s where I keep mine, too.”
“And hang the Do Not Disturb sign on the door?”
“Absolutely.”
“I don’t need any sticky-fingered cleaning lady messing with anything. Although after what happened with your room, I’m tempted to keep it in the car with me.” He powered it up.
She laughed. “After what happened to your car, that’s the last place I’d keep it.”
He shot her a mock frown. “Cute.” Then he turned serious again. “This may take a few minutes. You’re welcome to get that swim in if you want.”
Longing hit her. The desire to slice through the water, feel it rushing over her, numbing her mind to everything except pushing her body to the limit… “Naw, I’m fine.”
He raised a brow. “You’re a pretty good actress. I almost believed that. As soon as I have the information, I’ll bring it out to you. Now, go.”
She shifted. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure. Just pay attention to your surroundings this time, huh?”
He didn’t have to say it again. Fifteen minutes, twenty tops, was all she needed. A few laps and a quick change of clothes and she’d feel refreshed and ready to figure out where to go next with this case.
In record time, she’d changed into her swimsuit. Throwing her clothes over it, she grabbed her jacket and headed toward the covered pool area that was next to the office.
As she stepped into the enclosed area, she breathed in the familiar scent of chlorine, felt the humidity smack her in the face, and she smiled. The sound of the pump gurgled and Gisella felt herself relax.
A young woman with a toddler sat at one of the white plastic chairs. She’d pulled off the swimmies and now dried the little one’s hair. They exchanged nods but Gisella breathed a happy sigh as the two left a few moments later.
She had the place to herself.
Entering the changing room, she left her clothes hanging on the pegs then reentered the pool area. Her blood hummed as she noted the depth of her end.
Eight feet.
Gisella dove in and felt the rush of water sluice over her. She surfaced and started swimming freestyle.
One lap.
Two.
Three.
She felt energized, the stresses of her work washing away as she stroked to the wall, flipped and pushed off to head back in the other direction.
How many laps did she have time for until Brock came looking for her?
She promised not to be long and she wouldn’t. Just a few more.
She really needed to call her father. Let him vent for a while, rant about how she was sending her mother to an early grave and then she wouldn’t have to worry about it for another week or two.
Not that she intentionally hurt her family. She would have thought her father, of all people, would have understood.
But he didn’t. At least he said he didn’t but sometimes, on the rare occasions that she made it home to visit, she thought she saw something in his eyes that showed he did.
And then the phone calls would come and she would tell herself she just imagined it.
Two more laps and she’d get out.
Maybe three.
She swam, feeling loose. Free.
And then the next time she surfaced…
…it was dark.
She gasped, bolted upright and realized she was in the deeper end of the pool.
Gisella froze in the water as best she could while still staying afloat. Her ears tuned in to the smallest sound. Her eyes swiveled, trying to pierce the darkness. Faint light filtered in through the tiny windows lining the top of the roof, but it wasn’t enough to make out if someone was there, hiding in the shadows.
She hadn’t heard an
yone enter, but she’d been so focused on swimming…
A scrape.
Her heart thudded and she whirled toward the sound.
Nothing.
No. Wait. A shadow? Slight movement to her left?
Someone had turned the lights out and was now up to no good. Her head swiveled, her already pounding pulse picked up speed, now fueled by adrenaline.
Which way should she go?
The shallow end?
Stay in the deep?
She felt exposed. As though the person in the shadows could see her. But that was impossible. If she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see her. Right?
Wrong. The faint lights under the water probably illuminated her form nicely for someone looking down into the water.
She paddled toward the end of the pool, placed her hands on the edge…
…and felt the cold snap of handcuffs encircle one wrist.
“Hey! Brock, if that’s you trying to teach me another lesson, it’s not funny.”
She could see his legs now, grabbed on to one. He kicked out with the other and caught her in the shoulder. Gisella couldn’t stop the pained yelp that escaped her and she let go. That wasn’t Brock.
Something crashed into the water behind her and she felt herself being dragged beneath the surface. Pulling in one last minute breath, she fought against the force determined to land her on the bottom of the pool.
She went under.
Panic flooded through her as she realized the handcuff attached to her wrist was also connected to…what? Her trembling fingers fumbled to feel, eyes squinted trying to see in the dim underwater lights.
A chain.
She yanked.
But whatever weight was attached to the other end of the chain was too heavy.
Terror caused her heart to stutter and her lungs to strain.
Gisella dove after the weight that was now settled on the bottom.
She tugged.
It moved.
But not enough.
She couldn’t lift it and she couldn’t get out of the cuffs.
Lights prickled behind her eyes.
She had to breathe!
But if she did, she would drown.
If she didn’t, she would pass out and drown anyway.
Brock! Where are you?
God, help me, please.
FIFTEEN
Brock glanced at his watch. Gisella had been gone a good ten minutes. She’d asked for fifteen. He’d give her a little more time then take the information down to her.
What little there was.
Chris Locke had come up clean.
Restless, he gave another glance at his watch and decided to go tell Gisella they needed to go another direction in the case. Right now, Jasper West seemed to be their best hope in finding who was the main boss with the Lions of Texas.
The thought didn’t thrill him.
He grabbed his room key and headed out toward the pool. Opening the door, he paused as he glanced around, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden darkness.
Where were the lights?
Where was Gisella?
Foreboding chilled him.
“Gisella?” His voice echoed around him.
A door opened and a figure slipped out, shutting the door behind him.
Brock started to go after him then looked at the water, thought he saw…bubbles? A ripple? He couldn’t tell.
Moving closer to get a better look, all senses on high alert, Brock made out a dark shape at the bottom of the pool.
And he knew.
Without thought, he kicked off his shoes, pulled off the heavy cable knit sweater that would drag him down and dove in.
Blinded by the darkness, he used his hands to feel for her. The tips of his fingers grazed hair. He snagged the strands, allowing them to guide him.
She whirled, fight and determination in her eyes. When she saw it was him, relief.
Then he saw her mouth open and she sucked in water. Thrashing, she fought whatever held her.
Oh, God, help. The prayer filtered through his mind even as he slid his hands under her arms to pull her up.
She didn’t budge.
Her eyes bulged in fear and with the need to breathe.
She was getting ready to pass out and they both knew it. He could see it in her face. He didn’t know how long she’d already been down there, but knew he only had a minute or two to get her up to air.
Sliding his hand down her arm, his fingers encountered the metal enclosed around her wrist.
His lungs sent out warning signals.
Brock’s foot became entangled in something. Hard. Metal.
A chain?
He let go of Gisella and grasped it. His brain quickly calculated that it was about two feet long. How much time did he have? Not long. Her eyes closed and he knew if she hadn’t passed out yet, she was close to it.
His fingertips scraped across something hard. Rough.
Concrete.
He pulled and it moved. Could he swim up with it?
God! I need some help! Please! Don’t let her die.
Bunching his muscles, he grasped the block and pushed off the bottom of the pool. The block dragged him back. He needed another plan. Gisella stirred. Brock grabbed her wrist and pulled it close to get a look at what encircled it.
One ring on a handcuff.
Elated, he shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled out his key. Inserting it into the lock, he twisted it. The cuff fell off. Wrapping one arm at the base of her throat in a lifeguard hold, he shot for the surface.
Dots appeared before his eyes, and his lungs screamed for air. But he was almost there. Breaking through, he pulled in a much needed breath and swam for the shallow end, pulling Gisella behind him.
As soon as he could stand, he pulled her up. Placing her on the edge of the pool, he hoisted himself out and fitted his lips over hers. He blew and watched to see if her chest rose.
It did. Come on, Gisella, breathe! God, I need Your help!
He blew again, his fingers searching for a pulse.
It beat steady, so she didn’t need chest compressions, just air.
Another breath and she wheezed a gasp. He turned her head and she spewed the water she’d swallowed and replaced it with life-giving oxygen.
“That’s it. Breathe, darlin’, breathe.”
She coughed again. Spit some more.
He wiped her face with his hand and she blinked open her eyes. Dragged in another desperate gasp.
“Come on. We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”
He snorted in disbelief. “Uh, I don’t think so. You could have all sorts of complications.”
Her head lolled to the side. He didn’t care what she wanted. She was getting checked out by a doctor. In El Paso.
As soon as he retrieved the evidence. “I’ll be right back.”
Brock swam to the deep end, dived down and grasped the chain with the block attached. It was heavy. Letting go of the chain, he grasped the block and shoved off the bottom, working his way back toward Gisella. Mimicking an astronaut walking on the moon, he made his way toward the shallow end.
Heaving himself back out of the pool, he grabbed the large beach towel she’d thrown over the chair and draped it over her.
Gisella coughed again and this time it seemed to bring her back around. Sitting up, she pulled the edges of the towel together at her throat and sucked in another deep breath.
“I’m okay. You got here fast.”
“I was restless and decided to come after you. Come on, we can be at the hospital in less than thirty minutes.”
Tears leaked from her eyes and she shifted away from him. “Just give me a minute.”
Reading her expression, he slid an arm around her. “Hey. Don’t be embarrassed. That was a close one.”
Leaning into him, she nodded against his shoulder and he felt his heart thump into overdrive.
Lifting her head, s
he met his gaze, searched his eyes and must have been okay with whatever she saw there. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “And hey, we’re definitely even now.”
Her lips curved into a reluctant smile. “I guess whoever did this is probably long gone by now.”
“No doubt. I heard someone leave as I got here. He slipped out the side door. I started to go after him, but saw you.” Brock found himself unable to tear his gaze away from this woman who was becoming more special to him with each passing moment.
His partner, Paul, flashed briefly through his mind. The man’s grief, his inability to deal with his girlfriend’s death all crashed into his consciousness.
Clearing his throat, he moved back slightly and Gisella furrowed her brow. “Well, I’m glad you saw me.” She sighed. “Let me change and we’ll go report this little incident to the office manager. See if there are any working cameras on this side of the building and if they picked up anything.”
He nodded and helped her up. She gave another hacking cough and Brock frowned. “I really think you should at least get checked out.”
She waved him off and entered the changing room.
Two minutes later, she was out, dressed in her winter clothes. Brock had wrapped the concrete block in a towel, protecting it against his fingerprints. As soon as he got back to his car, he’d bag it properly.
He looked at his dripping outfit. “I’m going to get changed, too. Why don’t you wait for me in your room? I’ll knock when I’m ready.” He gave another rueful look at his weapon. “And I have to dry and clean my gun again.”
“Okay.” She held up the wet bathing suit. “I need to hang this somewhere to dry anyway.”
Together they headed toward the rooms.
Brock turned at the last minute to watch her disappear through the door.
His stomach churned at the thought of how close he’d come to losing her. So close it made him nauseated. Closing his eyes, he pulled in a long breath.
And made a vow.
No matter what it took, he’d make sure she stayed safe.
Threat of Exposure Page 12
