by Hill, Brenda
“But don’t you ever want a home, a family?” Tracy asked.
“Not me. I wouldn’t even think about ‘settling down’ with a man. Can’t trust none of them. They either beat you to death or they’re lying and cheating on you. Even the straight ones I get, they’re all married. Little woman at home, thinking she’s nice and secure with her man. All the time, he’s out screwing anything he can get his dick in. Nope, not for me.” She folded her arms tightly against her chest.
“You don’t have to use gutter language here,” Suzy reminded her gently. “You don’t have anything to prove with us.”
Holly sighed heavily. “Yes, Suzy, I hear you.”
“And you’re wrong about men. True, there are and always will be the type you’ve seen, but never forget, there’s also another type. The man who loves his family and works hard to take care of them. I wish every one of you could have the same kind of relationship with a spouse that I had. That, and your children are the things that make life worth living.”
Tracy glanced at Suzy and saw the same tender look on her face she’d seen in the hospital. Her husband must have been a pretty special man.
“You know what this lady does?” Holly addressed the group in general. “Every once in awhile, she goes out on the streets and hauls me in here, just so I can rest, she says. Says I need to get some sleep and decent food so I won’t be tempted to do drugs. Only person I ever seen that really gives a damn.” Sudden tears made her eyes glisten and she almost slapped them away. “Damn things, makes people like Suzy think I’m crying, that I give a shit about anything.”
The women at the table were silent.
“Maybe underneath all that leather, you really don’t care about anything,” Suzy said, “but I think you do. Regardless, just remember I care about you.”
“Me too,” Tracy said, her heart going out to the teenager.
“We can be your family now,” Karen said.
Tracy saw that Holly was trying to stem the sudden flood of tears.
Suzy started talking about drugs, probably, Tracy thought, to give Holly a chance to ‘save face’ and compose herself.
“So far, I been clean,” Holly rejoined the conversation, “and I aim to stay that way. Can’t get nowhere all shot up.”
“I guess you can get them pretty easy,” Gail said.
“I can get anything easy. Just a matter of money. So keep in mind, ladies, you ever need anything you don’t want to buy in a store, just look me up. I’ll get it for you.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
The next day Reese knocked at the door of the safe house. He had the results of the DNA test. He flashed his shield at the woman who answered the door and smiled to put her at ease.
“I’m working with Tracy Michaels,” he told her, “and I need to talk to her.”
“She’s upstairs. I’ll get her.”
While waiting inside, Reese reflected that the place hadn’t changed since he was here over a year ago. Just the faces.
Always new faces.
A few moments later Tracy appeared with Ritchie in her arms.
Cute kid, Reese thought. Big brown eyes like his mother. However, Tracy’s eyes were wide. And wary.
“Hello, Sergeant Sanders,” she said. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to see you.”
“Call me Reese. I need to talk to you.”
The older woman who answered the door, walked down the stairs and held out her arms for Ritchie. “I’ll take him to the back yard.”
Tracy thanked her, then, after they had left, asked Reese, “What’s wrong?”
Hell. Reese wished Tracy didn’t look so frightened. He knew from talking to Suzy that she was doing okay. Maybe she was starting to put the nightmare aside and go on with her life. He hated to confront her again, but it was necessary.
Tracy didn’t sit down and Reese felt awkward. But he couldn’t sit, not while she was standing. He leaned against the doorframe and tried to put her at ease.
“Are you comfortable here?”
She nodded, her eyes never leaving his face.
“I might as well get right to it. I’ve been investigating Karlton Wolfe.”
Tracy went white.
“The DNA coding came back from your samples. It’s a match to the other women. The same man attacked all of you, including my sister. I need you to identify him.”
“Oh, God.”
She went so death-white that Reese was afraid she was going to buckle. He helped her to a chair and went to the kitchen for a glass of water. Damn, he didn’t want to do this. If he could get Karlton Wolfe some other way, he wouldn’t hesitate.
There was no other way.
“Drink,” he told her. “You’ll feel better.”
She took a sip, then tried to set the glass down. She had to use both hands.
Reese couldn’t let her anguish affect him. He pushed on. “Even without the DNA, all the evidence points to him. In cross-checking his history, I found job orders in the vicinity of the other assaults. You know how bad I want him?”
Tracy was silent, her face pale as she stared at Reese.
“Help me get him, Tracy.” Reese took her hand. “Help me get him off the streets. Say the word and I’ll put out an APB. We’ll get him.”
“I want to help you, but I can’t.” Tracy pulled her hand away. “Don’t you understand? No matter how long, he said, no matter where I go, he’ll find me. I believe him.”
“You haven’t heard from him here, have you?”
She shook her head. “That’s the only hope I have, that I’ll have some time to think, to plan, and I can’t, no, won’t jeopardize that small feeling of safety.”
***
Karr sipped coffee as he watched the Goldens’ home. The mailman had made his delivery long ago, but there was still no sign of Tracy. He began to get a sinking sensation. He hadn’t seen her since the quick glimpse the other day when she grabbed the mail. Was it possible? Had she managed to escape without him knowing?
No, she had to be there. He hadn’t seen her leave, and as close as he’d been watching, he would’ve known. The only time he’d left his post was to grab fast food from a drive-up window, and to stop at a service station for a quick shave. He didn’t want to look suspicious in case someone noticed him parked there.
He stuffed some salty fries into his mouth. The only activity he’d noted was the hen party someone had. All those dames converging on the house at once, why it was a madhouse. Taking a sip of coffee to wash the fries down, he thought of that evening. Damn, it had been hard to see what was going on. He’d had to move several times to get a clear view.
Suddenly, he froze. The little bitch couldn’t have gotten out then, could she? She wasn’t that swift. Unless she had some help.
Swallowing, he thought about her hospital stay. She could have met someone there, and they could’ve taken her.
Shit! But who, and where would they have gone?
Before he came all unglued, he’d better make sure. Starting the engine, he pulled in the driveway of the vacant house next to his target, then casually looked around just like a prospective buyer.
As if he wanted to ask a neighbor a question, he strolled over to the Goldens’ house and knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked again and waited, placing his ear to the door. Silence. Damn. It couldn’t be. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then tried the doorknob. It was locked. He pulled his driver’s license from his wallet and slipped it through the crack and jiggled the knob until it sprung. Quickly, he eased the door open and slipped through.
Not only did he not find Tracy, but after a careful search, he couldn’t find any traces of her. Or, the dead giveaway, any of the baby’s stuff. He then crept up the stairs and tried her door. Still nothing. After a careful search with no sign of Tracy or the kid, he knew she had gone.
Where the hell was she?
Back in the van, he started the engine and drove aimlessly, trying to figure out what happened. All t
hat hard work, sitting for hours, watching boring people do boring stuff. And for what? The angrier he got, the faster he went, until he almost ran over a pedestrian in a crosswalk. He slowed. Not that he gave a damn about running over some jerk, but someone might get his license number. Couldn’t let that happen.
All right, calm down and think. Where would the little bitch go?
Passing the capitol, then the Denver Mint, he thought of the time he’d taught Rosa a lesson in talking back. She’d disappeared for a couple of days. When she got home, he taught her another lesson on holding out on him. She finally blabbed about a safe house, and, with a little more persuasion, pointed it out to him.
He smiled. Wouldn’t hurt to check it out.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Tracy sat on the park bench and watched Ritchie play with two other children in the sandbox. The three of them were laughing, grabbing sand and dribbling it through their fingers. Sand matted Ritchie’s hair and covered his clothes, but she didn’t care. He was having fun and finding life a joy.
She almost hadn’t ventured out today. After Reese left, all she wanted to do was run upstairs with Ritchie and hide from the world. Then she looked at her son and knew she had to make some sort of life for him.
She wanted to tell Reese. She wanted nothing more than to shout, yes! It was Karr! Get him!
But she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough. She wondered if she would ever be.
She glanced around the park, at the children running, their squeals of laugher making her smile. The grass looked soft and inviting, so she slipped out of her shoes and ran her toes through the spongy grass, enjoying the cool, springy softness next to her bare skin.
She reflected on her talk with Suzy. Things had come to mind she hadn’t consciously thought of in years.
Why had she been so afraid of Jim? Like she told Suzy, he never hit her. So what was it that had made him so frightening?
She couldn’t think of anything tangible. If only Suzy were there to help her along. If she were, what would she say?
Okay, Suzy would say, how do you feel? Never mind what you think, stick to how you feel. Tracy smiled. Suzy would get to the heart of the matter.
Big white clouds were slowly making their way to the east. One of them looked like a big fat genie. She could see the shape of the head, the nose, and the big belly as it came down to form a point as if emerging from a bottle. She watched it drift by, the nose slowly dissolving, the entire shape melting into nothingness.
Just like the genie, she had disappeared when Jim was around. Everything that was her own, her thoughts, her feelings, dissolved into nothing. She became a shell, playing a role, doing whatever was required to survive until she could escape.
By then, it was too late. She had retreated into nothingness.
But was it true that she was nothing? For some reason, Jim wanted her to believe it, and constantly reminded her that she was never quite good enough.
Suzy said a stronger Tracy still existed underneath. Could she believe it?
Jim tried to take something away from her—belief in herself, just like Karr took something. But did that have to mean it was gone forever?
Maybe that’s what Suzy had been trying to tell her. If she continued to believe Jim’s words, he would always have control.
And if she kept running from Karr, he would also have control over her. And Ritchie. Did she want to live the rest of her life letting two men she despised have that kind of power? If she believed what Suzy had said, then she had power within herself.
Tracy marveled at the thought. She had power within herself. Cleansing tears rolled unchecked down her cheeks as she thought about it.
The sound of boys laughing caught her attention. The same team from yesterday was entering the fenced ball field and they carried their own equipment. Then the little boy walked slowly toward the fenced area. He got as close as he could without actually going on the field. Although his face clearly showed longing as he watched the other boys, he stayed away from them. She wondered if he would ever stand up to those bullies.
Wasn’t that what she was doing? Wasn’t she running from a bully, kept from her goals because of fear? The little boy showed strength by coming to the park while the other boys were there, but he was staying away from confrontation by staying off to the side.
Tracy’s mother shied away from confrontation and they both had been hurt by the lack of action. She should have thrown Jim out right at the beginning. Did Tracy want to live the kind of life her mother had lived?
And let Ritchie live that life?
When she was a child, she’d had no choice. But now she had to realize she could refuse to stay a victim. She was an adult, with failings, of course, but capable of living on her own and making her own decisions, right or wrong.
Suzy was right. She did have strength and it was time to stand up and take control of her life.
God, she loved the sound of that. Take control of her own life.
She would stay at the safe house a couple more days until she got her strength back, then go home, go back to work, save as much overtime as she could and get into school.
She was afraid, yes, but there were things she could do to help protect herself. Greg and Diana had offered to help her get a car so she wouldn’t have to walk home after work. She would take them up on their offer. She would take as many precautions as she could, but the main thing was to get on with her life.
She’d be damned if she’d continue to let someone else control her and her son’s life any longer.
***
Back at the house, she walked into the dining room and put Ritchie down on the floor to play. She picked up the phone, dialed, and asked for Sergeant Sanders. The efficient voice informed her that he was unavailable.
“Please tell him Tracy Michaels called with this message:
‘Get him. ’ ”
***
When Reese picked up his messages at the precinct, he read Tracy’s note and let out a war whoop that would have pleased his Apache grandfather.
“What the hell,” Haggerty said with a laugh, “you finally get laid?”
“Not yet, my friend, but this ranks right up there.” Reese picked up the phone. He needed a judge to issue the bench warrant waiting in his desk, needed to put out an APB, and a million other things. And he wanted them in the next five minutes.
“Grab Junior,” he told Haggerty, jerking his head toward Parrish, whose ears flushed pink, “and let’s move. We’re going to skin a wolf.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
At the park that afternoon, Tracy made plans while Ritchie sat in the grass at her feet. He loved to watch other kids play and was fascinated by the ducks and geese swimming in the pond. She pointed to the ducks flying overhead and had him watch as they circled over the water and landed, each making a small splash before joining the others.
“See the girl and boy ducks swimming together?” He kept his eyes on them as she talked. “The boy is the pretty one with all the bright colors. That’s so he can get the girl duck to look at him and want to live with him. And see,” she pointed to two ducks swimming away, “they always stay together. That way, they become mommy and daddy ducks and have babies, just like people.”
Ritchie laughed and waved his arms. Even though Tracy knew he was too young to understand what she was saying, she believed in talking to her son as if he could. You never really knew how much they remembered as they grew up.
Some of the ducks flew away and others landed, flapping their wings and sending sprays of water into the air. Tracy wondered if they were the show-offs of the feathered species. Shading her eyes with her hand, she scanned the sky, looking for others ready to land.
A man, just beyond the playground, drew her eye. He wore slacks and a dark shirt. Arms folded, he was leaning against a cottonwood, watching them.
Something about him... Her heart began to pound and she couldn’t catch her breath. No. It couldn’t be. She didn’t realize
she was rising to her feet.
It was Karr. Even without the uniform she’d know him anywhere.
The blood drained from her face. She grabbed Ritchie and held him close. Every instinct shouted for her to run.
Karr grinned and touched his forehead in a little salute.
Desperately, she looked around for some way of protecting herself and Ritchie. But it was just a neighborhood park. Most of the visitors were women with children at this time of day.
She had to calm down and think. Surely he wouldn’t try anything out in public. She ran to the telephone, risking a quick glance at Karr.
So far, he hadn’t budged from his spot near the tree.
She held Ritchie in one arm, his weight pulling as she dug in her pocket for the quarters. With trembling fingers, she punched the number of the safe house.
The connection seemed to take forever to go through. Karr was still leaning against the tree.
Ring, dammit, ring. She glanced at Karr again. He seemed very relaxed, as if he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t even concerned she might be calling the police.
Finally, the phone was ringing. Come on, answer, someone please answer!
“Hello?”
“Amy! Help me, he’s here!”
“Tracy? You at the park?”
“Yes!” Ritchie looked up at her, his face crinkling up ready to cry. Tracy tried to calm her voice. “Yes, we’re here.” She heard a muffled sound, then Amy yelled at Gail to get the car.
“Stay right by the phone,” she told Tracy. “We’ll be there in five minutes or less.”
When she hung up, Tracy hesitated, reluctant to let go of the receiver, her only connection with safety. She turned to look for Karr.
