I settled down and checked the notes piled neatly on my desk. Cam had been there. I recognized his organizational style. After making a note to send him an engagement gift—a twelve pack of his favorite micro-brewery beers—I got down to it.
Supervisors greeted me as they returned from their jobs. Phew. I’d been able to hide from my problems for a few hours.
Everyone left and my stomach growled. I reached Dora’s Café in record time. I ordered, sipped my water and waited for supper. Dora set my cheeseburger platter down.
“Dora, you make a cheeseburger platter like no one else in the world. Yum.”
“You ain’t tasted it yet.”
“Anticipation based on past history. Got any ketchup? This bottle’s empty.”
Allen nabbed the stool next to mine. “Speaking of anticipation, when are you and Dirk going to get together? I could use some new shoes.” He clamped his mouth shut and looked away.
“You’ve got a pool going? On when Dirk and I will get together?”
Dora arrived with the ketchup. “Honey, they ain’t the only ones.”
My mouth felt wired shut but I managed to speak. “You’re losers. Both of you. All of the people in the pool. What’s wrong with this town that your only entertainment is whether and when I get laid?”
Dora and Allen exchanged looks. Dora pursed her mouth. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Allen drawled his answer. “Yep. Sounds like a done deed to me.”
Dora leaned against her counter. “Guess you’ll need to change the bet.”
Allen played with a napkin. “How about the date they go public?”
“What kinda odds you givin’?”
Allen gave me a long look. I could feel my face heat under his regard. “Hey, you two I’m sitting right here.”
Dora pushed the ketchup bottle to me. I squeezed and a quarter bottle of condiment hit my burger. I kept my head down and used my knife to scrape the excess ketchup to the side. The stuff came out so fast Dora couldn’t be using a name brand, no matter what the bottle label claimed. “Forget the pool. We’re not a couple.”
Allen chuckled. “I’d say the odds just changed.”
“A lot you know.” I kept my head down and shoveled in fries so I couldn’t say more.
Dora tipped her head to the side. I could feel her stare.
Allen tapped his fingers against the counter. “I could still use a new pair of shoes.”
They both eyed me.
Dora turned to the register and rummaged for paper and pen. She scribbled something and pulled a crumpled fiver out of her pocket. The café owner handed both to Allen. “Maybe you need shoes, but my coffeepots are old.”
Crumbs flew out of my mouth at her statement. Dora ran a steady goldmine.
Allen grasped my shoulder. “Listen, Katie. I have a message for you from Dirk.”
“I should care, why?”
Allen rolled his eyes. “You’re pushing it girl.”
Dora chimed in. “Maybe I should rethink my bet.” She saw Allen’s look and moved off.
Allen lowered his voice and followed Dora’s progress before speaking. “Dirk insists you stay out of Kannapolis tonight.” He correctly read my mutinous look. “He’s not kidding. You need to stay away. These things are never a sure thing, even with the best planning.”
“I never said I would show up.”
Allen rolled his eyes. I really had to rethink small-town living.
“Look, Katie, everyone at the station knows he’s crazy about you.”
“News to me.”
“You can fight your attraction all you want, but we all see it. You always were a stubborn little thing.” He crossed his arms across his chest. “Promise me you won’t show tonight. Dirk will have my head otherwise.”
“Scared to ask me, is he? Not that he asks. He’s more the ordering around type.”
“He’s the team leader and up to his neck in logistical planning. It says a lot that he asked me to find you and get your promise. He thinks it’s so he can stop worrying but I know Dirk. A part of him will keep hoping you’re safe, even when he’s throwing handcuffs on the perp. Get it now?”
The stool didn't feel stable so I grasped the counter edge. Allen’s words pointed to an involvement my insecurities didn’t want to accept. The backs of my eyes burned. I swallowed hard. “But I thought he, well, you know. I’m a substitute for his partner, Amy. “
Allen sighed. “Amy was his partner, not his girlfriend. Contrary to television, if we’re lucky, we draw a partner who becomes a friend. We don’t screw them, not in any way, shape or form. Not a smart move.”
“Oh.”
“So do you get it now? And keep your nose and the rest of you out of Kannapolis.”
I wasn’t a person who listened to police scanners or rubbernecked accidents. I hadn’t considered being anywhere near the bust. I didn't know how I felt about being on the scene. Part of me thought it a really dumb idea and another part thought revenge on the BM a dish best served hot.
Allen waited.
“Okay. I’ll keep a distance between me and tonight’s bust.”
His forehead creased. My answer hadn't soothed his soul. He opened his mouth then closed it. Cocking his head, he found what he wanted to see in my face. “Thanks, Katie.”
Allen stood and called to the café owner on his way out. “Take it easy, Dora. Don't buy those coffee pots just yet. I think I’ve got new shoes in my future.”
Dora sang under her breath while she thumbed through a gossip magazine at the other end of the counter. If nothing else, the two bet-taking gamblers had kept my mind off tonight’s main event for a few minutes. I paid my bill and walked outside.
My phone rang. I hesitated answering, seeing as the dang thing brought me nothing but bad news. I snapped it open, hoping I’d hear something good for a change.
A muffled voice responded to my greeting.
“Make the drop-off tonight or your friend dies.”
I didn’t have time to think about the message much less answer it. The BM hung up.
The evening had turned cool and clear. Perfect weather for relaxing on the porch, committing a crime, or driving to neighboring Kannapolis. It didn't take long to make my decision.
****
Kannapolis is a cute little town, all old buildings and new buildings made to look old. The train station is one of the latter, all red brick, including the sidewalks. Usually it’s a middling busy place, but tonight the place jumped with people and action. All the spaces were filled with cars. Adults talked with each other or stood at the iron fence, gazing down the tracks.
Okay, maybe I should have called Dirk and stayed home behind locked doors, but sitting in Ginger’s loaner car at the Kannapolis train station parking lot seemed safe. My friend wanted to come with me, but she’d already made plans with Rob. I’d settled for bringing her car instead. One of us had to be here in case the BM watched. After that phone call, I wouldn’t take a chance.
I slid down behind the wheel just in case Dirk was near. The man had some kind of Katie radar. The thing about radar is it worked both ways. My tingling skin worked as my own personal early warning system. Dirk was definitely in the area.
My watch read almost ten fifteen. One of the adults standing at the spike topped wrought iron fence pointed, and a train whistle sounded in the distance. People moved from the parking lot to the large open area in front of the station.
An older woman in an Amtrak uniform emerged from a side door and locked it behind her. She walked to the tall gate barring everyone from the train tracks. The woman unlocked the gate and pushed both sides open. She said something that kept everyone where they were, but the crowd’s craning heads and shifting bodies portrayed excitement.
The engineer gave a few more blasts of the train whistle, whistle being a misnomer for sure. That sucker was loud. Cars rolled past the largish crowd of adults, and the engine huffed to a stop with the middle of the train at the gates. Do
ors on three or four of the cars slammed open. A conductor jumped off and pulled down the steps. Teenagers streamed off the train, backpacks slung over an arm, hurrying toward waiting parents.
I averted my eyes from the warm homecoming and returned my attention to the small terminal. Crafty BM. The bag had been turned in to lost and found and now the desk was unattended with the Station Master outside. The woman had gotten tied up getting dozens of passengers and their band equipment offloaded so the train’s schedule wasn’t blown. Depending upon how Dirk’s team played it, the BM could waltz in and dance out with the bag undetected.
A man carrying a familiar bag came around the building’s corner. Damn. A ball cap jammed down his hair, but I knew that muscular chest. Justin.
I gaped. That’s all I could do. I had no time to reason why Justin as the bad guy made little sense.
Dirk stepped from the back of the building while Matt and four other officers detached from the crowd of parents and teens to circle Justin. No one moved too close, maybe because they didn’t know if Justin came armed.
My heart pumped with sympathetic adrenaline. I watched Dirk speak to Justin and motioned for him to drop the bag. Justin’s body geared to run when he looked around and saw the cops behind him. He dropped the bag and his shoulders.
The police were focused on making a safe bust and they didn’t notice two parents pushing a cart full of band equipment toward them. I anticipated the problem a split second before Dirk. He called an order to the officers to keep the crowd away. Cop Bossy was too late.
Justin got into a crouch, looking like he’d drop to the ground. He never flattened. Instead, he used the crouch like a linebacker. Two of the officers who could have stopped Justin had turned away to deal with the oncoming parents.
He didn’t hesitate. Justin’s shoulder hit Dirk in the gut. Dirk got pushed into another cop and both landed on their butts on the brick sidewalk. Justin took off and dived behind the wheel of a car with the engine running. Wheels squealed and he was gone.
Undercover cops ran for nearby cars. Two patrol cruisers took off, sirens and lights strobing.
I breathed a sigh of relief. Dirk was safe. No one had gotten seriously hurt and Justin didn’t get Ginger’s money. It could have been much worse.
****
Dirk limped to my car and rapped on the window, his knock an unvoiced order. I tried my underutilized sympathy gene on him. “You look sore. Did landing on the brick sidewalk hurt much?”
“That’s not what burns my butt.” His glare charred my retinas. “What the hell are you thinking, Katie? You’re not supposed to be here. You could be tagged as an accomplice.”
My mouth needed saliva. I gulped. “But I haven’t even talked to Justin.”
His lips twisted in what I could only interpret as disgust. Uh oh. “Yeah, and you couldn’t have made arrangements beforehand?” He swiped his hand through his chopped hair. “My boss is gonna have a field day with this.” His head dropped and I almost didn’t hear his mutter. “If I keep my job.”
“What’s the problem? Justin won’t get away. You’ve got the money and you can place him at the scene. He’ll go away for a long time, right?”
He shook his head. “Amtrak officials only said they had a full train. We didn’t have time to check out the number of passengers getting off here.” He looked at the terminal. “I thought we had it covered.”
“Stuff happens.”
“This was my bust. It was my decision to go, even with the crowd. We should have backed off.”
But Dirk hadn't backed off. My stomach churned. I had a strong idea he wanted this bust because he worried the BM would come after me, or Ginger. Dating a cop, no matter how hot, had a downside. If we got together, I wouldn’t be free to do stupid stuff. My actions would directly affect him. That’s way too much responsibility for someone who can’t handle a cat or dog. Or even a plant.
“Dirk, I’m sorry I came here. Sorry I keep making dumb mistakes, but it’s not your fault the bust went bad. Justin had information you didn’t. You’ll catch him.”
His stricken look didn’t reassure me. “My miscalculation killed Amy. It could have been worse tonight.” He put his hand on my car roof and leaned closer, but not for a kiss. “Go home, Katie.” He walked away.
My chest tightened. I sat for a minute to clear my blurred vision then started the car and drove off. Matt and Allen talked at the driveway's entrance. When they spotted me, their disappointed looks grabbed my chest and blurred my vision all over again. I managed to drive away without crashing.
The night’s events sucked. My fling with Dirk ended before it started. I reached for my cell phone but remembered Ginger had her hands full dealing with Rob. That left home. Damn it. It still felt unsafe, but better than a hotel. And since I knew who the blackmailer was, he wasn’t likely to try to blow my house down.
I pulled in the drive and saw a momentary flash in the dense bushes that line my drive. The flicker didn’t repeat, even when I flipped my headlights to high beam. I grabbed my flashlight but it didn't flick on. Damn it, forgot to change the batteries. My gut reaction told me to go back to Ginger’s, but I didn't listen. Instead, I decided to put on my big girl pants and suck it up.
Headlights off? Check.
Pepper spray in hand? I fumbled in the bottom of my purse. Check.
Car keys between the fingers of my other hand? Check.
Now how the hell did I leave the car with both hands full? Transferring the spray to the other hand, I started to get out and then decided to flip my headlights back on. Better a dead battery than dead.
A big inhalation and I left the car and ran for the front porch. My right foot hovered above the bottom step when someone tackled me from behind. I jerked my head to the side, avoiding cracking it open on the stairs, but a hand at my throat made me think unconsciousness preferable to what I faced. Justin.
Spittle sprayed my face. “Bitch.”
I looked into his dilated pupils and knew I’d die unless I did something to save myself. And then he’d go after Ginger.
“You killed Morgan and you won’t get away with it.”
If I could shake my head I would have, but he had me pinned down. A sound that resembled “no” made its way from my throat.
“Give it up, slut. You killed him because he wouldn’t sleep with you. A friend told me.” Justin’s tears hit my cheeks. “You didn’t try to save him. If someone else could have gotten close, he’d still be alive today.”
Pressure from his hands increased and my air supply dwindled. No time left. I worked my hand with the pepper spray free and pointed the nozzle toward him, hoping it hit the bastard in the face.
Bingo. I heard his scream and the pressure loosened. I sucked in air just before he bore down again. My vision turned to gray. Justin must have thought he finished the job because he removed his hands. The pressure on my chest disappeared. I blacked out.
****
“Katie, are you okay? Katie. Do you hear me? Katie?”
A familiar voice called me. My throat burned and I moved my hand to it. Heavy arms made that simple task impossible. One hand fell near my nose and the smell on my fingers made me nauseous. Pepper spray.
My eyelids rose but my vision remained blurred. Tears leaked from my eyes, falling to my cheeks. A large gray mass stood suspended above me. Justin. I had to get away before he saw I wasn’t dead.
I rolled to my side and attempted to rise but I was pushed onto my back. “Nooo.” My voice sounded like nothing more than a croak but I knew I had to persuade Justin to not kill me. “Let me ’splain. Didn’t kill Morgan.”
A large hand pushed a tangle of hair from my face. “Calm down, Katie. It’s Allen.” I felt a rough square of cloth dry my cheeks.
“Justin...” My voice gave out and my eyes fluttered shut.
“Relax. We’ve got him.”
Bright red lights appeared and disappeared against my eyelids. Allen called out. “Hey, over here! Bring the gurney.
Move it!”
Chapter Eighteen
Clattering echoed in my ears. My nose twitched with an odor that was one part floral and two parts astringent. I had to be at the Northeast Medical Center. No other place sounded or smelled like this, not to mention I’d been here too many times not to recognize it in my sleep. I cracked my eyelids and checked out my location from under eyelashes. The cardboard art in plastic frames and the fact that I lay flat on my back confirmed it. I never slept on my back. I didn’t hook myself up to IV drips, either.
Exhausted from the covert room assessment, my eyes drifted closed. Too late. My surveillance had been spotted.
“Katie? You awake?
Ginger. Even if I hadn’t recognized her voice, I would have known the scent , the essential oils she used to protect against viruses. Smart girl, wearing the oils here. She sat on the edge of her chair almost close enough to share my bed.
Dirk’s spicy tang hit my sensory system. Licking my lips when he came near was a knee-jerk reaction. Too bad my dry tongue wiped dry lips. It felt like sandpaper on charcoal.
“Water.” Yeuw. That croak sounded worse than awful.
Ginger held an industrial sized-water container and guided the straw to my mouth. In my funk, I'd expected icy cold water but got lukewarm chlorinated crap. The sucked lemon expression I flashed Ginger encouraged her to withdraw the container. The water I spit back into the cup spurted onto my hospital gown and dribbled down my chin.
Ginger stepped back. Her eyes and mouth were wide, her face pale. “I’m so sorry. Here, let me clean up the mess.”
She pulled at a tissue box programmed to release only one thin sheet at a time. Dirk reached across me and grabbed the box. He ripped it open, and a block of tissue fell on my chest. My visitors shared a look over my head. “I’ll get this. Why don’t you see if the nurse will give you some fresh water with ice?” He studied my garb. “And a dry gown.”
Ginger nodded and hurried from the room. If I hadn't felt so punk, I’d enjoy the care Dirk took with the tissues and my wet chest. Who says hospital wear isn’t sexy?
Death Stretch Page 15
