“You go on back.”
Dee’s eyebrows shot up. “And what are you going to do?”
He hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Riley lives about 15 minutes out of Mercer—”
“Tyler, don’t—”
“I’m just going to look. There’s no harm in looking.”
“Tyler—”
“Maybe knock on the door.”
Dee closed her eyes and shook her head slightly. “I should go with you, keep you out of trouble.”
When he didn’t respond, she opened her eyes to find that he had leaned a bit closer to her. His entire demeanor had changed and his face had softened. For a few moments, he simply gazed at her, as if trying to read her mind.
When he spoke, his low voice caught her attention. “You want to keep me out of trouble?”
Dee realized she had not truly noticed how rich and dark the blue of his eyes was. “Yes.”
“I’m honored.” And with that, he kissed her, a slow, sweet brush of his lips on hers that seemed to freeze her in place. As he backed away, he said softly. “Go home, Dixie Dee. I’ll meet you at the lodge.”
The spell broken, she cleared her throat. “Okay.” It was all she could think to say, and she slowly gathered her notebook and opened the door. She got into the little compact, and he waited until she started the engine and pulled away before following her out of the lot.
She still felt a bit stunned as she headed out of Portsmouth, at first glad for the comforting warmth of the car and the brightness of the afternoon sun. Then, as she turned more toward Mercer, the sun increasingly blinded her, and the heat in the car felt stifling. Dee dug a pair of sunglasses out of her glove box and rolled down all the windows.
Much better. The afternoon temperature felt just right for running with the windows down. Indeed, as the wind swirled her brown locks around her head, a sense of exhilarated freedom settled over Dee. The compulsion to find Carly continued to reside in a tight knot in her chest, but for the first time in a long while, Dee’s mood soared. She felt good about herself and her writing. Her mind went over her chat with Bethany yet again, wondering about all the “maybes” that remained in the case. Maybe Zach Riley was still in the area. Maybe Bethany’s sister had been in Porstmouth. Then there was the person who had put the dress in Jenna Czock’s garbage. Did Jenna know more than she realized? Maybe she saw something…Dee shook her head. Too many maybes. She definitely needed Tyler to help her sort through all the things about this that she did not know.
Tyler. Dee sighed, her mind turning suddenly away from the case as she remembered the gentleness of his hand on her arm, her back, as they’d left the Bradfords. Then the kiss.
That kiss. Unexpected. She knew he liked her but…no one had ever kissed her like that, so soft…so cherished.
And it wasn’t as if she didn’t like being with him. If fact, over the past couple of days, she’d realized how much seeing him every day at lunch meant to her, and Maggie’s questions this morning had sharpened that. Dee enjoyed encouraging him to talk about his own world, and their chats about life in Mercer and his stories about some of its characters had a lot to do with her growing affection for this community. He made her laugh. Seeing him had become an incentive to continuing her exercise program. When did I start looking forward to seeing him so much?
Then, as she turned on to Mercer Pike, an image of Mickey and Joshua suddenly flashed before her eyes, and a stab of pain gripped her heart. I don’t mean to betray you. Please. The thought had an odd desperation to it, and she blinked, tears clouding her vision, made more glistening by the sun. Tyler’s face blended with Mickey’s in her mind, and she reached to wipe away the tears, remembering the glorious exhilaration of the night before. I just want to be happy again. She glanced right, hoping a wayward fast food napkin was left on the passenger seat, and saw a sliver of white tucked in the cushions. She reached for it, tugged the napkin free and dabbed at her right eye.
The first blow to the door of her car came from the left with a sudden, sickening crunch. Dee screamed and grabbed the wheel tighter, barely noticing the black wall of metal in the driver’s window. She struggled with the wheel, trying to force the little car back on the road.
She risked a sharp glance to her left, recognizing the vehicle as a large SUV just as it swerved again. The two vehicles collided with a grinding screech of metal on metal. This time the SUV pressed the assault, and Dee fought the wheel, trying to keep the car on the asphalt. The harder she pushed left, however, the more the car slid right with the squeal of tires on pavement. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, and her eyes stung.
Panicking, Dee slammed on the brakes, hoping to pull away from the SUV, too late realizing the mistake. As her car slowed, the front end of the SUV shoved inward toward her front fender, crushing the front end of her car and breaking the tire loose from its housing. Control vanished, and Dee screamed again as the car left the road, her eyes now on the ravine that gaped in front of her.
Dee’s head throbbed, and she winced as the EMT dabbed gently at a small cut on her forehead. “What are you using? That stings.” She squirmed on her perch just inside the ambulance door. The adrenaline rush from the wreck had left her, but she continued to shake, and she knew her head would hurt for a couple of hours.
The young woman met Dee’s gaze briefly, then returned to her duties. “Just something to clean the cut. I’ll put an antibiotic on it to cut down on infection. I wish you’d let us take you to the E.R.”
Her professional calmness was infectious, but Dee waved away the concern, then stuck her hand under her thigh to hide its trembling. “It’s just a cut. I had my seat belt on. I just got jerked around a lot. The headache is from the adrenaline.”
“No doubt. And you’ll be sore tomorrow. If you think it’s anything but a few muscle aches, you go in right away.”
Dee nodded, then waited patiently as the EMT finished bandaging the cut, suddenly aware that she could hear a siren in the distance. “Now what?” Dee looked around at the ambulance, police cruiser, tow truck, and three cars from folks who’d stopped to help the tow truck guy get her car out of the ditch. “Don’t we have enough folks hanging out?”
The EMT grinned. “One of the guys said Chief Madison was headed this way.”
“Uh-oh.” She really didn’t want to face Tyler after another injury. “Can you hurry up with that?”
“About done.” The young woman placed the bandage over the cut and secured it with an extra press of her finger.
“Thanks.” Dee hopped down out of the ambulance, but the EMT put a hand on her shoulder.
“Nope. You need to stay put. I don’t want you walking around yet. Besides, they’re about to bring the car up.”
Grudgingly, Dee acquiesced and settled back against the ambulance’s bumper. The siren grew ever closer as the tow truck driver set his winch in motion, and the cable dragged the remains of her car out of the ditch.
“Ouch.” Dee hadn’t really looked at the car after she’d scrambled out of the passenger window and clawed her way up the steep embankment next to the road. So the extent of the damage caught her off guard, and Dee crossed her arms, hugging herself.
She’d bought the little compact after arriving in Mercer as just a way to run around town. It already had almost 200,000 miles on it, and had cost very little. Still, it had been reliable and friendly, and it almost hurt to see the hood caved in and the windshield smashed. Black paint was smeared the length of the driver’s side, and the roof looked as if an elephant had recently taken up temporary residence in the middle of it.
When the oversized SUV shoved her off the road, the car had rolled, coming to rest with the driver’s side on the ground. I wish I had seen the driver, a license plate, anything. Her mind had been so locked on thoughts of Tyler that she’d been virtually oblivious to the traffic around her.
“Do you need to get your purse out?”
Dee glanced over her shoulder at the EMT. “What?”
Dee shook her head. “I don’t carry a purse.” She slid her hands into her jeans pockets and took a quick inventory: driver’s license, debit card, a twenty-dollar bill, her Swiss army knife in one pocket; her cell phone and retreat keys in the other. Her blazer pocket still held the digital recorder. The car keys were still in the ignition, not that she’d need them anymore.
This is unreal. The tow truck driver tilted the bed of the truck, and as the cable pulled the car up the ramplike bed, every bent piece of metal, every shattered panel of vinyl groaned, creaked and quivered. The driver had started strapping it down when Tyler’s cruiser slid into the scene and he shut off the siren. He got out, then stopped when he saw the car.
Tyler put a hand over his mouth and rubbed it back and forth, as if trying to force words back down his throat. He stared at the crushed car a moment, then strode to the supervising officer. They conferred, then, suddenly, the officer turned and pointed at Dee.
Tyler followed his direction, and his gaze locked on her. His brows merged into one thick line as he scowled, and his eyes darkened to an intensity that made her sit a bit straighter. As he stalked toward her, her stomach tightened in a way that was part fear and part anticipation—she really wanted to avoid the coming confrontation, yet she truly felt relieved to see him.
The EMT glanced once at Tyler and backed a discreet distance away.
Tyler stopped in front of Dee, towering over her perch on the ambulance bumper. All the muscles in his jaws seemed chiseled into place as he examined every inch of her face. When his stare shifted abruptly to the EMT, the young woman snapped to attention.
“She’s okay. Abrasions on her elbow and knee from her climb out of the ditch, that cut on her forehead. No signs of concussion. She refused transport.”
Tyler’s cop stare snapped back to Dee, and she almost flinched when he spoke, his voice a low growl. “You need to go to the E.R.”
She shook her head, ignoring the slight throbbing at the back of her skull. “I’m all right. Promise.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Dee told him, leaving out the part about tears and thoughts of him. Maybe later.
Tyler looked again at the car, then back at her. “Was it intentional?”
The question caught her off guard, and she frowned, thinking. “Surely not. I’m sure they were just distracted…” Her words trailed off as she remembered the fierceness of the second hit. Second hit?
“What?”
She let out a long breath. “They hit me twice. The second time, they kept pushing.”
He nodded, and his shoulders dropped a bit as he reached out, one hand cupping her cheek. “What am I going to do with you?”
The gentle touch, the soft question left Dee speechless. Her mouth opened as if to respond, but no words emerged as she watched his face slip from “cop mode” into tenderness, then back again as he dropped his hand from her face and stepped back.
“Stay here. I want to talk to the guys. I’ll drive you home. I’ll take care of you.”
Dee watched him walk away and slowly closed her mouth. Her cheek still felt warm from his touch, and she covered the spot with her own palm.
“Well, it’s about time.”
She turned to the EMT behind her. “What?”
The young woman grinned. “Every single female in Mercer has been waiting for this to happen. For the unshakeable Tyler Madison to fall in love.”
Dee looked over her shoulder at Tyler. “In love?” The warmth in her cheek seemed to spread through her chest as she thought about the kiss. “You really think he’s in love?”
The EMT finished stowing her medical supplies in the ambulance. “Looks like it to me. You’re about to dash the hopes of a lot of girls in town.”
Dee shook her head, turning back toward the scene as she watched Tyler talk to one officer, then another. “I don’t think…he can’t…”
The EMT paused to check her bandage again. “Tyler never did exactly what people expected him to. So, yeah, he can.” She stepped back. “I’m going to finish the paperwork. I’ll keep an eye on you, and yell if you get dizzier or need to lie down.” She picked up a clipboard and moved away.
A strange weakness settled over Dee, but she knew in her bones it wasn’t from the accident. Her mind flashed back over a dozen conversations at Laurie’s café, the soft warmth of Tyler’s hand whenever he touched her, the strength of his arms and chest when he’d carried her from the car into the lodge house that night after the attack. His whispered, “Ride easy, Dixie Dee.”
Then there was that kiss.
Their first meeting at the café had been almost accidental. He had come in to get to-go coffees for his first shift officers because their coffeepot was on the fritz. She’d been unable to sleep the night before and had showed up early for breakfast. They’d met a few days before at the retreat, and he’d greeted her warmly, starting a story about the café that he finished over breakfast, the coffees momentarily forgotten.
An accidental breakfast, but the lunches had become so regular that she felt spurred on during her morning walks. She relished his company, and felt drawn to be with him. But love?
He stopped the tow truck driver for a moment’s chat, then moved to one of the men who’d witnessed the wreck, pushing his hat back a bit on his head and leaned toward the shorter man. She had always appreciated Tyler’s classically handsome face, the square jaw and close-cropped blond hair, although that look had never been her type. Her type was Mickey, thin, lean and dark, with…
Suddenly the scene of another accident flooded her memories. She’d been driving, like now, and she’d survived that one, too.
Mickey and Joshua had not.
Dee closed her eyes and tried to force back tears. Oh, Tyler. I just can’t. Not yet.
She opened her eyes again, and found Tyler, his eyes dark and worried, watching her closely.
The sounds of rage from upstairs plastered Carly to the bed. She hugged the pillow to her chest and curled into a tight ball, pushing herself as close as possible to the headboard and the wall beneath the window.
This was bad. The worst Carly had heard. Her captor’s fury appeared endless, and each eerie scream would escalate into words Carly couldn’t understand, shouts that unleashed a frenzied wrath on the world, and would culminate in a hard thud that sounded as if furniture would any moment crash through the ceiling and into Carly’s tiny world.
She had so hoped for a good day, a nice day. When her captor had come into the room earlier that morning, Carly had expected to be scolded for not finishing the packing. Instead, the breakfast tray had been delivered with only one statement expressing the captor’s disappointment: “Anything not packed by tonight will be left behind.”
Left alone, Carly had packed the books and a few toys, along with the more interesting DVDs. She had left out her book about the girl detective, Robin Kane, and enough art supplies to spend the afternoon drawing, sheet after sheet covered in sunshine-lit days and beautiful butterflies. She had almost enjoyed those final hours, and had not packed those remaining pieces until just before bedtime, even keeping a couple of crayons and one piece out for later.
But the good day had been spoiled by this raging fit, which had started the minute the captor had returned home. Carly had left her paper on the desk, shoved the crayons in her pocket, and retreated to her bed.
Finally…silence. Carly remained quiet, waiting for the next thump or scream, but none came. Instead, the air filled with a long, keening wail, like that of a badly wounded animal. The sound echoed through the house, and Carly felt the hair on her arms prickle. Gradually, it faded, leaving the house bathed in silent darkness.
The tightness in Carly’s muscles eased, and she released her pillow and slipped beneath the covers. Turning her face toward the ceiling, she prayed, her voice a bare whisper. “Lord, I’m goi
ng to need a lot of help. Soon. I know You’re listening. It’s getting worse. Scary worse. Help.”
FOURTEEN
Tyler picked up his pace, his running shoes making a hypnotic padding rhythm on the pavement beneath his feet. Beside him, Patty ran with an even gait, her panting providing a syncopated counterpoint to the sound of his shoes. He hadn’t planned to run tonight, but he needed to burn, to try to force out of his mind the image of Dee’s crumpled and ruined car. The very thought of it knotted his muscles again, and Tyler ran harder, Patty now lagging behind on the leash.
Tyler headed to the park, wiping sweat from his brow as he turned a corner. He didn’t even slow to offer a “hello” to the folks in the neighborhood whom he usually stopped to chat with. Tonight, he couldn’t linger. He desperately needed to push himself physically, to exhaust his mind and body, to try to forget the images of that afternoon. The images of the little compact sitting atop the tow truck’s bed, of Dee at the back of the ambulance, continued to hover in his brain, locking a sheen of ice and fear around his heart.
As a cop, he’d seen hundreds of wrecks. He had witnessed a few happen right in front of him. He’d investigated his share of them. He had seen people walk away unhurt from destroyed vehicles, and he’d known of people who died in cars that looked relatively untouched. Yet none of them had come close to dropping him to the ground as if someone had jerked his feet from beneath him. He’d frozen when he first saw the car because he’d been terrified to hear what the supervising officer had to say about the driver.
That she had survived virtually untouched had been a miracle, and Tyler once again murmured a feverish prayer of gratitude. What’s more, she’d gotten out of the car and clawed her way up the bank without help. This was definitely not the wounded bird that Fletcher and Maggie had spirited to New Hampshire from a dark bedroom in Tennessee. This was a woman prepared to fight for herself.
The Taking of Carly Bradford Page 12
