Twilight Warrior

by Aimée Thurlo

  “I never knew….”

  “It’s just the beginning, sawe,” he murmured, pulling her up until she straddled him. Placing his hands on her hips, he arched upward, wanting to bury himself in the softness of her body, but she shifted, preventing it.

  “No, not yet. I have to know that you’ll never forget me,” she murmured, moving downward.

  “I could never—”

  Travis sucked in his breath as her kiss burned into him, branding his flesh.

  He wanted to hold back but there was too much heat. The need to lose himself in the warmth of her body overruled everything else.

  Gentleness vanished, pushed aside by raw passion. He rolled her onto her back roughly. Poised over her, he captured her gaze. “Remember this night and what was meant to be.”

  As he pushed inside her, the heated depths of her body drove him wild. She bucked and writhed and he met her movements with powerful thrusts that took them both over that glorious edge.

  Afterward, he lay over her, feeling her heart drumming to the beat of his own. The rightness of that moment went beyond anything he’d ever known. He’d never felt a greater sense of peace, of completion. He’d found…love.

  An eternity later, he lay beside her, his gaze drifting over her in a silent caress. “You’re beautiful.”

  “What was that word you called me, sawe?” she asked.

  “It means sweetheart.”

  She smiled. “What happened tonight was…” She struggled to find the right word.

  “It was life speaking to our hearts,” he answered.

  THE MOON WAS HIGH IN THE SKY as they walked back down the trail slowly, tired but still enjoying the afterglow. Neither of them spoke, but there was no need for words. The peace that had settled between them was sufficient in itself.

  Then both their cell phones went off at the same time and reality came crashing back.

  “I’ve got a voice message from Barbara Malloy,” he said.

  “I’ve got a text message from her,” she answered. “It tells me to check with you.”

  He listened to the recording and swore. “The killer contacted her with proof of who he was. He told her that vic number three, Coach, was strangled with her own shoelace and encouraged her to verify it. He promised to give Barbara an exclusive if she met him at Johnson Park. Though he wouldn’t allow his face to be seen, he’d talk to her and one cameraman.”

  “This is bad. He’s not interested in talking. He’s going to kill her—maybe on camera,” Laura said.

  “We have to stop her,” Travis said, calling Barbara Malloy as he broke into a jog.

  Crusher, now excited, raced ahead toward the SUV as they ran down the trail. Laura, close behind, pressed Travis. “She’s not picking up?”

  “All I’m getting is her voice mail. I’m calling Koval,” Travis said, tossing her the keys as they arrived at the parking lot. “You drive while I talk.”

  As they got under way, Travis gave Koval a quick update. “I don’t know why she’d do something this crazy,” Travis told him.

  “I know precisely why she did what she did,” Laura said after Travis hung up. “It was dumb—okay, beyond dumb—but I understand it.”

  “To agree to meet a killer with only a cameraman as backup…” Travis shook his head. “I know all about ambition—”

  “No, you really don’t,” she said quietly. “You wanted a better life for yourself, but you never had to measure your own self-worth using someone else’s yardstick.”

  “I don’t follow,” he said, tensing up as she took a corner at high speed, tires squealing.

  “Your vision for the future always entailed doing something that would make things better for everyone,” she said.

  “Same as you.”

  Laura shook her head, then paused a moment as she whipped around a slow-moving car. “I went into law enforcement with some definite plans—personal ambition above all. I’d get experience, take more college courses and move up the ladder. The thing is, no matter what I achieved, it was never enough for me. Inside, I still felt like the kid people had labeled worthless. That’s one of the main reasons I ended up taking the job with New Standards. The perks were second to none, and for the first time, there was no arguing with what I’d achieved—both salary wise and job wise.”

  “But? I can hear it in there somewhere,” he said.

  “All these years, I’ve been in competition with myself. That’s a tough race to win. Until you can see that, you’ll continue to push and drive yourself right to the breaking point.”

  “And you think Barbara’s the same way?”

  “I ran her background after our run-in with her. She came from a small town in New Mexico. She was raised by her schoolteacher mother and a handyman father. Unless I miss my guess, she’s got her eye on a network job, but her age is catching up to her, so she’s willing to take chances.” She paused for a long moment, then added, “Barbara’s hungry, and this could be her last shot to break out.”

  Laura focused on her driving as they entered a main thoroughfare, heavy with traffic from day-shift workers. Fifteen minutes later, they arrived at the city’s largest recreational area, located on the north side of town. Most parks, except for the river walk, were small neighborhood plots with sandboxes and swing sets for small children. This park was a former golf course dissected by a new housing development. There were low hills, graveled footpaths, stands of trees and picnic tables throughout.

  “He chose well,” Travis said. “This area has plenty of cover and escape routes. The manpower we have available will have a hard time covering every exit. In the darkness, he can always slip away on foot.”

  She braked to a screeching stop. “If we split up, we’ll cover twice as much ground,” she said, glancing around. Only a few vehicles were parked against the concrete barriers and nobody was in sight. The park was illuminated along the paths with several light poles, modern fixtures that focused their illumination down rather than skyward.

  “Let’s stay together. It could be that Barbara’s more bait than target this evening,” he answered, grabbing a flashlight from the glove box and climbing out of the vehicle. “And keep your eye on Crusher. He’ll let you know if there’s trouble ahead.”

  “Do you really think the suspect’s using Barbara to lure us in?” she asked, coming around and handing him back his keys.

  “Not us—you,” Travis answered, moving through the open gate and down the path at a brisk walk.

  She followed, keeping pace. “How much backup is on the way?”

  “Every available unit, according to Koval. They’ll be using a silent approach. The first officers to arrive will block the major intersections leading out of the park, but they won’t be able to cover every route at once. Hopefully, the killer won’t spot the holes in our coverage.”

  Laura nodded. “I heard you working that out with Koval and I agree with your tactics. We want to take the suspect down without anyone else being hurt. If this becomes a hostage situation, things are going to turn ugly fast,” she said.

  They reached a junction in the main trail about two hundred yards into the grassy park. Here, the graveled path split into four smaller ones. “There’s the TV station’s van.” Laura pointed toward the north-end parking lot.

  “Our suspect will want to use the cover of darkness to shield his identity. The closest cluster of trees that fits his requirements is east of the van. Let’s check that out first,” Travis said, keeping Crusher on leash and at heel.

  As Laura followed she couldn’t help but notice that Travis scarcely made a sound. Even the dog was nearly silent. By contrast, she announced her presence with each step. Every time she placed her foot down, the gravel crunched as if she was walking on peanut shells.

  “Can you make any more noise?” he muttered. “Eagles up in Colorado are having trouble pinpointing your exact location.”

  “I’m better on city streets,” she whispered, moving off the path onto the grass.

>   Travis and Crusher suddenly broke out into a run. Uncertain what had prompted it, she drew her weapon and raced after them.

  A moment later, she spotted a big camcorder lying on the grass, green light still on. A few yards away, a pair of boots were sticking out from below a low, sprawling juniper bush.

  They rushed forward and saw the cameraman struggling to sit up, rubbing the back of his head. “Where’s Barb?” he asked anxiously.

  “Don’t know yet. You okay?” Travis said softly, glancing at him for only a second before shifting his focus to the surrounding area.

  “I’m sore, that’s all.” The man reached for his camera. “We were supposed to meet the creep by the east-side fountain. Barb told me to hang back until she made contact. I was watching through the viewfinder when something came crashing down on my head.”

  “How long ago was that?” Travis pressed.

  The man looked at his wristwatch, at the same time rising to his knees. “Five minutes, maybe? When I got coldcocked, Barb was moving in that direction,” he said, pointing east. “Let’s go find her.” He struggled to his feet and positioned his camera over his shoulder.

  “Hang back and give us room to work,” Travis warned, already entering numbers on his cell phone.

  Laura glanced around. At least her eyes had adjusted to the dark. “Your camera, it’s got infrared lighting, right?”

  “You bet. You guys go ahead and do your thing. I won’t get in the way,” he said, checking the settings.

  As Travis headed east following Crusher’s lead, a blood-curdling scream rose high into the air.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Travis and Crusher raced toward the sound, with Laura a few steps behind them. Running downhill was difficult—the grass was slippery—but she managed to stay on her feet.

  Travis and Crusher reached the small clearing first, but Laura wasn’t far behind. As she broke through the stand of pines, she saw Barbara Malloy struggling against her assailant, who had her in a headlock. The man’s face was covered with a ski mask and his camouflage clothing made him blend into the shadows.

  Crusher barked furiously, eager to jump in.

  Travis, unwilling to take the chance that the dog would harm the hostage by mistake, restrained him.

  Reacting to a signal Laura could only guess at, Crusher suddenly sat and grew still.

  Travis dropped to one knee and trained his gun on Barbara’s assailant, hoping for a clear shot. “I’m Detective Blacksheep. Let her go,” Travis ordered.

  The man, continuing to hold Barbara in a headlock, spun the reporter around so she stood between him and Travis. With his free hand, he caressed the side of her face, his gloved fingers tugging at a loose strand of hair.

  Laura moved to the side, hoping to outflank their suspect, but the man suddenly pulled a handful of Barbara’s hair, making her cry out.

  “Stop, Laura. I see what you’re doing. Don’t you wish you could trade places with my hostage?” The voice was altered, pitched artificially lower, the result of some electronic device placed at his neck.

  “It’s me you want, we both know it. So let her go and come get me. I’m right here,” Laura said, holding her hands up in a gesture of surrender.

  “Nobody has to die here today,” Travis said. “Give it up, man.”

  “You’re no fun at all, Blacksheep,” the man answered, laughing. The speech-distortion device made his response sound even more menacing.

  The sound infuriated Crusher, who snarled and tugged on his leash.

  “Let Ms. Malloy go,” Laura said, stepping toward her attacker. “You want me, so come on. Let’s play.” She continued toward him, one slow step at a time.

  “That’s what you really want, isn’t it? A little romance in your life, just like your friend in Arizona? She was hot but you’re even hotter.”

  Anger boiled inside her, but she knew that to give in to it now would only give him an even greater advantage. “I’m a better match for you—a challenge you can’t resist.” She was close enough now to smell the sweat coming off his body. “You know I can make things more interesting for you.”

  “I’m counting on that,” he said, his back to the cinder-block perimeter wall.

  Travis took a step forward and the man instantly put one hand around Barbara’s throat. “Stay where you are, Blacksheep, or I’ll rip out her windpipe and throw it at your feet.”

  Travis stopped but kept his pistol aimed at the man’s head.

  Laura took another step closer. The suspect suddenly pushed Barbara right into her. Laura slipped and fell as Barbara landed on top of her.

  It took only a few seconds for Laura to get back up. By then the man had vaulted over the wall and dropped out of sight.

  Crusher lunged forward on the leash, yanking Travis toward the wall.

  “Stop!” Travis ordered.

  The dog froze, standing on his hind legs with his paws atop the wall.

  Moving slowly and ready for anything, Travis came up and looked over. The wall was on top of a steep slope ending twenty feet below at the sidewalk. If Crusher had leaped the wall, he would have tumbled over. The fall alone might have killed him.

  The suspect, having slid to the bottom, climbed on a motorcycle and waved as he raced off.

  “Stay, boy,” Travis ordered, scaling the wall and slipping down the hill in a controlled slide. The best they could do now was to keep the suspect in view.

  As Travis reached the sidewalk he grabbed his cell phone. The cycle was already a hundred yards down the street. Though he was armed, he couldn’t risk firing into the residential neighborhood.

  “Crusher headed for the gate farther down,” Laura said, joining Travis after having slid down the incline. “He’s going to follow us one way or the other.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of. He has a mind of his own.” Speaking in staccato sound bites as he jogged, trying to keep the motorcycle in sight, Travis called for units to block the closest intersection.

  Two hundred yards ahead, beneath a streetlight, the man on the cycle made a right turn onto a side street of the housing development.

  Hearing heavy breathing, Travis turned his head and saw Crusher coming up, panting.

  Travis kept the phone in hand as they raced to the corner, where the motorcycle now lay abandoned on the street. A light-colored van was just disappearing around the next curve.

  Travis stopped by the cycle and ordered Crusher to heel. As the dog sat by his left leg, panting hard, Travis updated dispatch.

  Travis bent to take a closer look at the dirt bike, flashlight in hand. It was a light, inexpensive model several years old, judging by the wear on it. And getting dumped unceremoniously on the street had resulted in a broken headlight.

  “We probably won’t have any luck tracking this thing. My guess is that it was bought used or stolen,” Laura said. “And forget fingerprints. You noticed the suspect was wearing gloves, right?”

  Travis nodded and directed the beam of light onto the ground directly ahead. “It’s not a complete loss. It looks like he left us some tire tracks when he laid rubber getting out of here. We’ll have a tread pattern to compare to the ones from the other scenes.”

  “Do me a favor. Shine your light on these handlebars, will you?” Laura said. “He wound something around the left one.”

  Travis aimed the light.

  “It’s a white shoelace with something written on it,” Laura said. She got down on her knees for a closer look. “Without touching, I can’t…no, wait. I see an L and an A, U…” Her mouth suddenly went dry.

  “Laura,” they said in unison.

  “Get a close-up of that, Jimmy,” Barbara Malloy said, rushing forward, mike in hand.

  “I’ve got it,” Jimmy said.

  Barbara stood in front of the bicycle, and faced the camera. “Just minutes ago I was viciously attacked by a serial killer—the Shoelace Strangler—who held me hostage in front of the police, threatening to rip out my throat. The killer has
now fled the scene, leaving behind this motorcycle and a taunting reminder of his cruel attacks. Is this the shoelace he used to strangle his last victim?” She moved closer to the cycle, pointing, but Travis blocked her.

  “Please, don’t touch anything at the crime scene, ma’am. Back away before you compromise vital evidence,” Travis ordered.

  Crusher growled, emphasizing the point.

  Barbara, along with her cameraman, tried to step around him, but Travis held his arms outstretched and forced them back.

  Crusher backed up Travis, facing the pair and baring his teeth.

  Not missing a beat, Barbara faced the camera squarely and described the events leading to the attack, calling the episode only the latest consequence of her exclusive investigation.

  Even after officers began to cordon off the major crime scenes in the park and on the street, the reporter and her cameraman continued filming.

  “Are you okay?” Travis asked Laura as they walked back up the street toward the park’s closest entrance.

  “No,” she managed in a shaky voice. “He was right there…almost within arm’s reach. Now he’s gone. He slips through my grasp time after time.” Tears stung her eyes and an overpowering sense of frustration swept over her.

  “Don’t let him get to you. There’ll be a next time.”

  Crusher, at heel, growled, emphasizing his master’s words.

  Laura forced herself to take a deep breath. She wouldn’t lose it now. She owed the victims more than that. Swallowing the bitterness at the back of her throat, she focused on the task at hand.

  They met with the police sergeant in charge of the scene next and Travis recounted the events.

  The sergeant listened, then nodded. “You’ll need to make a formal report at the station tonight, but for now you’re free to go.”

  They returned to the SUV and, this time, Travis drove. On the way he took her hand and held it. “This isn’t how I’d hoped we could end this evening.”

  “In our world, we take moments as they come. I have no regrets.” Laura paused as a disturbing thought crossed her mind. Although it cost her everything, she gathered her courage and added, “Do you…have regrets?”