by Lola Gabriel
Their stares unbending, Gabriella pointed at the door.
“Just get out of here,” she insisted. “What a joke your police force is.” The men did not respond, but Gabby could see she had struck a nerve with her last comment. She decided to stick it to them as a parting shot. “What should I expect from a hick town anyway?”
Her smirk was short-lived when Cameron grinned easily.
“Well, you can always go back to the big city. I hear that you managed to live straight and narrow over there,” Cameron piped up, and Gabby felt the blood drain from her face as he winked, closing the door in his wake.
Note to self; never call these clowns again, no matter what the situation. You’re going to have to protect yourself from now on.
She knew just what to do.
The storm increased slightly, chubby drops of rain pelting against the windshield of the taxi as they drove toward the town’s giant superstore.
I hate having to leave the house, she thought, but she wondered if her house was safe any longer. Could it have been my imagination? She could not believe that she had made up the vision of a strange man watching her. She tried to use reason, talking logically to her moderately panicked inner self. The sheriff had just stopped by, you had been drinking, and you’ve been under a lot of stress. It’s possible you imagined the man…
By the time the cab pulled into the parking lot of the superstore, she had almost convinced herself that she was being ridiculous.
Oh well, she thought, hopping out of the car. I’m here now. I may as well follow through with it.
She entered the superstore and looked around, her eyes trailed to the signage dictating the aisles.
Almost immediately, she found what she was looking for: guns and ammunition.
The rain continued into the evening and Gabby took solace in another bottle of wine and a soft blanket, binge watching Netflix on the living room couch as the storm splattered against the windows. She had all but convinced herself that what she had witnessed earlier that morning had been a figment of her imagination, and now she felt her eyelids grow heavy.
As she drifted in and out of sleep, the television began to affect her subconscious, and she heard the voice of the hero onscreen become Cameron Lapin’s.
“You’re not safe here,” Cameron said as the actor. “You have to leave this place before it’s too late.”
Suddenly she and the heroine were the same and she was in the set, staring worriedly into Cameron’s eyes. “But where will I go?” she wondered.
“Anywhere but here. It’s time you got out of town.” His words caused tears to spring to her eyes.
“You don’t want me here?” she whimpered, blinking. “I thought you loved me.”
“I can’t protect you!” he roared, seizing her by the arms and shaking her roughly. “How can I live with myself if—”
A sudden crash rattled her, and Gabby wasn’t sure if it was from the television or her semi-conscious dream. Her lids parted sleepily and she smiled fuzzily at the man standing before her in the living room.
“What are you doing here?” she murmured, not immediately recognizing the danger she faced.
“You’re a little whore,” the stranger hissed. Gabby bolted up on the sofa, the remnants of her trance-like state fading instantly.
She screamed and scrambled to the floor as the first shot rang out, covering her head with frail arms, blocked only by the coffee table and the man intent on killing her. Rolling to side, she crawled toward the front door, waiting for the bullet that would shatter her spine. My gun! Where is my gun?
In her panic, she looked about, trying to reconcile where she had put the firearm upon her return from the store. She could see the weapon on a dining room chair and she fled toward it, realizing her mistake immediately. She would never have time to load the weapon before the assassin killed her.
Another bang was heard, and the ammunition landed within inches from her head, lodging in the dining room wall. She whirled to stare at the man, her eyes wild as he cocked the pistol once more.
“Who are you?” she shrieked. “What do you want—”
She did not get a chance to finish her question. There would be no escaping the next firing. Gabby stood helplessly as she watched her life flash before her eyes with horror.
In slow motion, a flurry of movement leapt between her and the bullet aimed for her chest. A furry, white and grey beast took on a red spiral of blood at its shoulder.
Uncomprehendingly, both Gabriella and the killer stared in shock at the animal as it raised itself back on its hind legs and released a howl unlike anything Gabby had heard in her life.
The primal scream reverberated through the small house, shaking the glass in the window panes. The beast turned its full attention on the man, saliva glistening against its pristine white fangs.
“Holy shit!” the assassin gasped as he realized he was the prey.
He tried to run, but the dire wolf was upon him in seconds, sinking its blade-like teeth into the back of the terrified man. An attempted squeal of pain was abruptly cut short as the wolf encircled a talon laden paw around his throat, ending his life.
Gabriella watched the scene, horror and relief flooding through her simultaneously.
Run! She screamed to herself, but her legs were lead weights. She could not pull her eyes from the beast violently devouring the blood-soaked corpse. She inherently knew that she would be next when it finished his kill, but her brain would not communicate movement to the rest of her body.
After what seemed like an eternity had passed, the wolf turned his majestically terrifying head, his yellow eyes boring into hers. The intense fear which had almost suffocated her seemed to evaporate as she read the expression in his face. He snorted at her, licking the excess red from his snout and spun.
“No wait!” Gabriella cried, reaching a hand out as if to stop him, despite fully knowing that the animal could—most likely—not understand her. “Don’t leave me here! What am I supposed to do?”
The wolf paused, barely looking back at her over his massive shoulder. It was then that Gabriella saw that the bullet hole had begun to heal, the slug forcing itself out of the gash in his shoulder. Her jaw dropped.
“What are you?” she breathed.
He threw his head back and released another feral howl. Then Gabriella blinked, and he was gone.
Shaking, she sank onto the sofa, trying not to look at the man who had tried to kill her. She could not begin to understand what had happened or make sense of the wolf and the attempt on her life. She reached for her burner cell, the one she had bought after leaving New York so she would be untraceable.
But someone found me anyway. Is this man tied to New York? He called me a whore. Is he a stalker? Some warped vigilante? And the wolf? Did that happen? What is going on in this town?
With trembling fingers, she picked up the phone and dialed 9-1-1, not knowing what she would tell dispatch.
What can I tell them? I don’t know what happened myself.
“Great Falls Police Department. What’s your emergency?”
The voice was not familiar.
“This is Gab— This is Grace Kelly,” she gasped into the phone. “I need the police at 1672 56th Street South immediately.”
“What happened, ma’am?”
It was only then that the incredible stress of the situation hit Gabby, and she burst into gut wrenching sobs.
“I have no idea!” she wailed.
6
What did you do?
The question was not spoken aloud, but Cameron heard it without issue. He closed his mind to Brewer’s inquiry. They stood at the crime scene, and he tried to repress a shudder as he saw the damage he had done to the would-be assassin.
Gabriella was a blubbering mess on the sofa and he couldn’t help but eye her, wondering how much she had seen. He had a vague recollection of what had happened, but when the fury erupted, there was little left to recall later.
Since
making her complaint about seeing a man in her yard, Cameron had stayed close to her property, eventually following her to the store and back again. He had been startled to see she had purchased a firearm.
She is really freaked out about the man she saw, he thought, and a stab of worry coursed through him. He realized that he should have demonstrated more concern when she had filed the report, especially when he was sure he had sensed someone lurking about earlier in the week.
When he returned to Gabriella’s apartment, the sensation that someone had been there was gone, but Cameron could not help but feel uneasy.
Someone is definitely watching her, but who?
Cameron intended to discover the identity of the creeper. He simply did not want to give Gabriella cause for alarm while he investigated it.
If she has a gun and doesn’t know how to use it, she could get hurt.
He had no way of knowing if she was a trained shot or not. It was not as if he could simply ask her, after all. If she suspected that he had been following her, that would create an entire new wave of problems he did not have time for. He had already gotten himself in much too deep.
“Tell us again what happened,” Brewer asked gently, eyeing the sheriff. Cameron looked away. Crime scene investigators were crawling through the scene as well as every available man on the force. Homicides did not happen in Great Falls. They were not equipped to deal with such a bloody event.
Cameron grew annoyed. If we are forced to call in the Montana Department of Justice, shit is going to hit the fan. There will be too many unanswered questions. Investigations going back years will be reopened, ones we swept under the rug before we grew more cautious.
“I told you!” Gabriella sobbed. “I was sleeping on the sofa and this man just appeared in the living room. He called me a whore and shot at me. I managed to duck out of the way…”
She trailed off and looked pleadingly at Cameron, but he avoided the eye contact.
I cannot give her any indication that I know what happened here. In fact, I must do the exact opposite. I can’t give anyone reason to suspect anything.
“How did this happen to him?” the sheriff asked flatly, pointing at the stranger’s mangled corpse. Gabriella, however, had no answer for him, and he knew it. He could read the expression on her face. If she dared say what had truly occurred, everyone would look at her as if she were insane. So she kept her mouth shut and hoped someone else would offer a plausible explanation.
“Did you stab him?” Cameron insisted, gesturing wildly around. “He’s in shreds!”
“There was an animal in here,” she whispered meekly. “A wolf or… something.”
The officers tittered slightly, covering their mouths at the farfetched idea that a wolf had wandered in on an attempted murder.
“A wolf, huh?” Brewer said thoughtfully, glancing at his boss. Cameron scowled, unwilling to take the bait. Jasper had no reason to assume he was responsible for what had happened. It could have been any member of the pack.
“Your story is hard to believe,” the sheriff told Gabriella monotonously. “Do you know the deceased?”
“No!” Gabriella insisted. “But I think he’s the same guy that was in my yard this morning… I mean yesterday morning.”
It was almost three o’clock in the morning at this point. Nothing good ever happens after midnight, Cam thought grimly.
“Let’s get you down to the station for a proper statement,” Jasper Brewer sighed, pulling on her slender arm.
“No!” Cameron heard the word before he could stop himself. The others turned to stare at him quizzically. “I mean. I’ll take her.”
He did not want to miss one word coming from her lips. In his mind, he was thinking about how he could cover up the events that had transpired, but as the minutes ticked by, he knew that he had overstepped this time.
Someone will expect me to be on the phone with the Department of Justice as soon as I get back to the station. This case is too bizarre to be handled by such a small police force.
Cameron could not allow that to happen.
“Let’s go,” he told Gabriella gruffly, taking her from beneath Brewer’s suspicious gaze. He ignored Jasper and hustled Gabriella from the house, aware that she trembled beneath his touch. “Don’t say a word until we get back to the station,” he warned her as he placed her in the back of the squad car.
“Why am I riding in the back?” she demanded as the door closed. “I did nothing wrong!”
“What did I just say?” Cameron snapped, slipping into the driver’s side. He adjusted the rearview mirror so he could see her better, then started the car and drove towards the station.
“Am I a suspect?” she cried out. “I swear I didn’t do anything to that guy! He was trying to kill me!”
“Did you not hear me? Stop talking!” Cameron roared, furiously turning to face her. He narrowly missed hitting an oncoming vehicle.
Gabriella seemed to get the point and sat back, her face pale. “It doesn’t matter what I say,” she muttered. “No one will believe me, anyway.”
The sheriff did not respond, keeping his eyes on the road, but he could not help but look at her from time to time, studying the perfect bone structure of her face.
Someone wants her dead, he thought. Someone almost succeeded in killing her. If I had not bothered to stick around and follow her, it would be her body we would be processing right now. Who was that man, and where did he come from?
“Who would want to harm you?” he asked aloud. Gabriella folded her arms beneath her small but firm breasts and stared stonily out the window.
“Oh, what? Suddenly you’ve forgotten how to shoot your mouth off?” he asked with annoyance. “If you want people to believe you, you better come up with a believable story.”
She remained silent, but he could see her eyes flashing with indignation.
Come on, Gabriella, think of anything, any story that would not make you look crazy.
Cameron admitted, he was having a difficult time creating one himself.
“Was someone else with you?” he urged, hope leaping into his chest.
If she cast the blame on a third party, it might fly as a defense. After all, she had no cut marks on her from wielding a knife. And blaming a third party sounded a hell of a lot better than “a wolf did it.”
“Oh? Am I allowed to speak now?” she retorted furiously.
“Only if you say something that makes sense. Who else was there?”
“I already told you that a wolf was there!” she snarled. “If you choose not to believe me, that’s your problem, but your forensics team will show that an animal made those marks, not a knife.”
Cameron gritted his teeth. He now had more problems than he could count.
How did I get myself into this situation?
He glanced back at the sweet-faced brunette. Her bronze glow had waned to an unhealthy white.
She knows that her life is in danger and that she was protected by a supernatural presence. That is a lot to digest for a day. They pulled into the stationhouse, Cameron’s mind still reeling. How am I going to hide this and protect Gabriella from whomever is trying to harm her?
The answer was obvious but cruel.
There must be a better way, he thought as he led her into the offices.
“You aren’t having a good week, are ya, honey?” Jeannie called after Gabriella, casting Cameron a rueful grin, but he was far too distracted to return the gesture. “It’s too bad you aren’t Gabriella Medina, or you’d be far away from here by now.”
Cameron wished that it wasn’t Jeannie’s weekend to work the nightshift. He didn’t need her making the situation worse. Together, Cameron and Gabriella walked into an interrogation room where he shut the door and spun to face her.
“I am giving you one last chance to tell me what happened,” he told her sternly. “And I want something I can believe. Do you think you can handle that?”
Swallowing visibly, Gabriella shook her head, sh
ifting her gaze to her small, dainty hands.
“I have nothing else to tell you,” she insisted. “It happened the way it happened.”
Cameron sighed deeply and rose to his feet.
“Then I have no choice but to arrest you for the murder of John Doe,” he told her. “Hands behind your back, please.”
“Wait, what?” Gabriella squealed. “You can’t arrest me! You have no proof! The man had a gun! He wanted to kill me—”
“You have the right to remain silent,” Cameron intoned, slipping a pair of handcuffs around her wrists. “Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney—”
“You’re goddamn right I’m getting an attorney!” Gabriella screamed. “You will allow me one phone call—”
Abruptly, she cut off her own demands, clamping her mouth together.
“I waive the right to counsel,” she said flatly, and Cameron paused reciting the Miranda rights to stare at her pensively.
She is scared. Scared enough to remain hidden from the world despite this assassination attempt.
Cameron processed her and put her in a holding cell.
“We will keep you here until your arraignment,” he told her. He saw all the light fade from her limpid brown eyes.
I am breaking her by doing this, he thought as the cell door clanged shut with finality. No. I am saving her. No one can get her behind bars and the Montana Justice Department will steer clear of Great Falls. This is the best for everyone. I will find another solution; I just need to buy some time.
As Cameron walked away from the holding cell, he heard a sob escape Gabriella’s lips, and he felt like a knife had pierced his heart.
It is only temporary, he assured himself. She will be protected here. She may not realize it, but this is what’s best for her.
He could not bring himself to look back at her, knowing that she had dissolved into a puddle of tears and that he was the cause of her distress. Cameron had an almost insurmountable desire to tell her the truth and explain to her why his actions were necessary, but he knew his conscious was overriding the greater good.
