Stuck On You

by Christine Wenger

  "Let me put some on a plate then and you can take them with you."

  "No, really, that's okay. I have to get back."

  "I insist, Johnny. Now don't argue with me. You can share them with that lovely girl, Kate."

  Kate. She'd be arriving soon, no doubt. As much as he wanted to see her again, he wished it would be under different circumstances. He steeled himself for another altercation with her.

  "It won't take but a minute," Mrs. Tucker struggled up the stairs with her walker. Mack opened the door for her. "Come in for a while, Johnny."

  "I'm all wet and my shoes are muddy. I'll wait out here for the cookies, Mrs. Tucker."

  It felt like an eternity before he was handed a yellow plate with a lacy paper doily, covered in plastic wrap. The dreaded cookies looked good, but they always did. He'd rather eat the doily and the plastic.

  He raved about how much he would enjoy them, and Mrs. Tucker beamed. Waving good-bye to her, he hurried back through the wet grass toward his house.

  Then all hell broke loose.

  An explosion sent the yellow plate flying from his hand. Mack found himself face down on the lawn with a mouthful of grass. Wood, glass and burning cinders rained down on him. He brushed away the sparks that were burning his arms, then rolled on the grass to extinguish the ones burning his back. The ringing in his ears faded, and he looked up and saw flames shooting from his roof.

  Another explosion rocked the air. More flames.

  Mack got up from the grass and quickly reached for his pocket knife. Slipping the blade between the black strap and his ankle, he cut the thing in half and flung it into the flames.

  Then he ran as fast as he could, away from his burning house.

  #

  Sirens wailed all around her as Kate tried to get to Mack's house. She pulled over three times for fire trucks and twice for ambulances.

  "Must be a bad fire or an accident," she mumbled, before pulling over for several Rose Lake Sheriff cars. The traffic cops already on the street wouldn't let her get any closer to Mack's house.

  Must be very bad. She swung into the parking lot of the Rose Lake Sheriff's Department and cut her motor, deciding to go the rest of the way on foot.

  Throwing her purse over her shoulder and clutching the "drive by" machine, she walked briskly through the residential streets.

  The smell of burning wood permeated the moist air, reminding her of a fall day. The sun was breaking through the clouds, but over to the north, a stream of thick black smoke spewed into the sky.

  Her heart leapt again as a black and white cat crossed her path. "Molly? Are you loose again?"

  The cat stared up at her.

  She scooped Molly up and picked up her pace. "Mrs. Tucker must be worried sick. How do you keep getting out?"

  Kate turned onto Pine Street, but was greeted by a sheriff and instructed to turn back.

  "But officer, she has my cat!" Mrs. Tucker shouted, gripping her walker. "Please let her come to my house, so I can have my Molly back."

  The cop glanced at Mrs. Tucker, dressed in her canary outfit and hanging on to her walker for dear life. She looked like she was ready to burst into tears.

  "Go ahead," he ordered.

  "What's going on around here?" Kate said, falling into place by Mrs. Tucker.

  "It's just awful, dear. Johnny's house is on fire. It exploded, twice! I do hope he's okay. I was leaving to go check on him, but then Molly scooted out the door."

  Kate felt sick. Sick. "Is Mack okay? I mean Johnny. Is he all right?" Her heart pounded erratically in her chest, and she was one step away from fainting. She had never fainted in her life, but it was happening right now. Gasping for breath, she managed to choke out, "Have you seen him?"

  "No, I haven't, not since I gave him cookies. And I'm worried to death. It was quite a loud explosion. Two explosions."

  Dumbfounded, Kate stared at Mack's burning house. There wasn't much left. The bile rushed to her throat, choking her. The smoke stung her lungs and tears sprung her to eyes when she thought of Mack dying such a horrible death.

  Kate shook her head. He had to be alive. He just had to be alive!

  She pictured him sitting on one of his green and white lawn chairs drinking coffee and lying through his teeth. She thought of him calling her last night and what he’d said. She thought of their conversation today. She remembered, yet again, how he looked in the shower. How he looked at her when she took her raincoat off. How he almost kissed her.

  She had loved him her whole life.

  Please be okay, Mack.

  She let Molly in the back door of Mrs. Tucker's house. "I'm going to find him."

  Mrs. Tucker said something else, but she didn't know what. She pushed her way through the crowd and found Mack's commanding officer, Captain Crowley, who she knew from her probation days.

  "Is Mack all right?" she asked, grabbing his arm, praying for good news.

  It took a moment for him to recognize her. "I don't know. No one's seen him."

  "Then...then...." She didn't want to speak her question out loud. "I-Is he in t-there?"

  "We won't know for a while yet," the captain said softly, as he stared at the burning building. "Isn't he supposed to be on your house arrest program?"

  Tears burned her eyes, but it wasn't from the smoke. "Yes."

  "Then I'm assuming that we'll find him...in there."

  Kate swallowed a scream and ran, past Mrs. Tucker's house, and down Oak Street, running as if the devil himself was chasing her.

  She couldn't see where she was going through her blinding tears. She tripped and fell on the sidewalk, scraping her knees and elbows, knocking the wind out of her lungs. When she caught her breath and got up slowly, she felt warm blood dripping down her legs. Her elbows stung. Her knees stung.

  But she didn't care. She had to find Mack.

  She leaned against a tree and tried to think, tried to catch her breath. Taking a tissue from her purse, she wiped her eyes and what she could of the blood dripping down her legs. But all she succeeded in doing was grinding the stones into her skin.

  She took out another tissue and blew her nose. She willed herself to calm down and rethink the events.

  She remembered the VV-98 going off. That meant Mack broke the circuit. He had left his house. Maybe he left to save Molly or to fetch sugar cookies. Whatever.

  He broke the circuit. That gave her hope.

  Of course, the circuit could have gone off if he...if he...

  She let the tears fall down her cheeks, but she refused to give up hope. She limped toward her car, thinking that she'd cruise the street. If Mack was hiding, maybe she'd spot him, or he’d spot her.

  But what if he was dead? The tears came again. She sniffed and blotted her face with her last tissue.

  He was right all along. Someone tried to frame him, and they wanted him dead. Had they succeeded?

  Kate hurried to the Sheriff's Department. Maybe they would have information about Mack now. She saw that the side door was ajar. Good. It would save her the distance from having to walk to the front of the building.

  Opening the door, she took the steps down to the basement. Blood dripped into her shoes from her knees, making them wet and sticky. Finally, the stairs ended. She looked around for a cop, but no one was in sight.

  Why wasn't someone taking care of the storage area? Why wasn't there a cop around?

  They were all at Mack’s house.

  With a sob, she headed for the elevator.

  Without warning, a hand covered her mouth and she was slammed back against a hard body. A male body. The smell of smoke assaulted her senses, along with the feel of damp clothes.

  She struggled, but she couldn't escape his hold. She kicked out, but his arms were like bands of steel.

  She bit down on his hand.

  "Ouch! Dammit, Kate!"

  A voice penetrated her fury. Mack’s voice. She fought against the blackness closing in on her, but she lost the battle. Strong arms reache
d out and held her tight against him. But she couldn't stop the ringing in her ears or the blackness from winning.

  "Mack?"

  "Don't faint, Kate! Not now. I need you."

  CHAPTER 6

  When she came to, Kate found herself stretched on a cold cement floor, cradled in Mack's arms. He was tapping her cheeks with his hand.

  "Stop hitting me already," she whispered. "I'm awake."

  "Finally." The worry that wrinkled his brow was replaced by relief. "I didn't realize you were so fragile."

  "Sorry, it's not every day that I see a ghost."

  "So you were worried about me, huh, Kate?" There was a twinkle in his eye. He was loving this. "That's good to know," he said.

  "I thought you were dead." Kate started to get up, but her ears were ringing. She closed her eyes and sank back into his embrace. He hugged her close, and it was bliss. She shivered, not from the cold, but from how close she'd come to losing him.

  He rubbed her arms. "You're all scraped up and bleeding. What happened?"

  "I tripped on the sidewalk."

  She could hardly think. Not when his finger was tracing her lips. She held his wrist steady. "For once, I was glad that you weren't doing my program."

  He laughed. "I never thought I'd hear you say that."

  "Where were you anyway?"

  "Getting Molly down from the tree for Mrs. Tucker."

  Kate was skeptical. "Now that's the typical cop cliché."

  "It's true. Believe me."

  She couldn't stop herself from reaching out and cupping his cheek in her hand to assure herself that he was real, that he was alive.

  "What do you think happened to your house, Mack?”

  "Well, it didn't blow up by accident." He shrugged his shoulders.

  “Do you have any suspects?”

  His sky blue eyes turned dark, troubled. Then he shook his head from side-to-side as if to erase his thoughts.

  "Let me help you up," he said, changing the subject. He was a pro at that, especially when he was a sentence away from confiding in her. "You're cold and you have to get the hell out of here."

  Without so much as a grunt, he hauled her up and held her until she found her feet.

  "Kate, can you make it up the stairs?"

  "Yes."

  "Okay. Then you'd better get out of here. Now."

  He walked over to a computer and sat down. She followed him, ignoring his order.

  Mack pushed button-after-button on the keyboard, cursing when nothing happened. "Kate, go."

  "Not without you."

  "I don't have time to argue with you. I don't want to waste this opportunity."

  "What opportunity?"

  "To check on some things that have been bothering me. But I can't figure this damn thing out. What's wrong with paper files anyway?" He was clicking every button on the keyboard.

  She gave him a shove. "Oh, get up. Let me do it."

  "You're not going to listen to me and get out of here, are you?"

  She raised an eyebrow. "What do you think? You're still in my program, dead or alive."

  "Well, our previous tender moment sure as hell faded fast."

  She chuckled. "Do you want me to help you, or not?"

  He got out of the chair. "I bow to your computer expertise."

  Kate sat down, and poised her hands over the keys. "What am I looking for?"

  "Inventory...storage...drug storage...drug destruction... something like that."

  "Do you have a password and a code?"

  "Yeah."

  "Well, type it in."

  "What do you think I was doing? It didn't work."

  "They probably deleted you," Kate said.

  "Damn! Can you get in anyway?"

  "This is going to get me in big trouble, isn't it?"

  Mack met her eyes, straight on. "Probably, if they find out, and they probably will."

  Kate hesitated, searching his eyes. She wanted to help him. He was on to something.

  "Trust me, Kate. I know you have no reason to trust me, but that's what I'm asking you to do."

  She studied his face and knew he was sincere. "Okay, Mack, but don't make me regret my decision."

  He grinned. "You won't. I'm one of the good guys."

  She started typing. "That remains to be seen."

  "Kate, I hate to rush you, but can you hurry up? Do you think you can break into this thing?"

  "I'm rushing! What's the code set-up?"

  "Four letters and four numbers, run it all together. Can you do it?"

  "I think so, but I need time."

  "We don't have time."

  Kate tried different combinations to get into the computer. First she tried the obvious no-brainer passwords and code words: 1-2-3-4-A-B-C-D.

  Her fingers flew.

  "How come it doesn't seem to bother you?" She typed in

  4-3-2-1-C-O-P-S.

  "What?"

  "Your house turning into a handful of ashes." She typed

  1-2-3-4-G-U-N-S.

  "That house didn't mean anything to me." Mack stated flatly. "I thought you were good at this computer stuff?"

  "I am good at computer stuff, but cripes, Mack, this is a cop computer. Wouldn't you expect it to have good security? I'm surprised it didn't lock me out yet."

  He didn't answer, but paced back and forth, glancing up at the door in the back of the room, as she furiously typed.

  "I'm in!" She was thrilled to be able to finally help Mack. "Sheesh! You think you cops would have more imagination than

  6-7-8-9-C-O-P-S."

  "I'm glad we don't."

  He positioned himself over her left shoulder, watching intently. She could feel the warmth radiating from him. It was hard to concentrate on her task when he was that close to her and she could hear his steady breathing over the thumping of her heart. The smell of smoke lingering on Mack was a constant reminder of what almost happened to him.

  Kate concentrated on checking the various drives and directories, desperately wanting to help him.

  "How about "CONFDRUGS"? I suppose that means confiscated drugs. There are two sub-directories under that: invent and dest. That's probably–."

  "Inventory and destruction. Perfect!” Mack said. “Let me see them both."

  "Oh, shoot. I'm going to jail."

  "Shhh!" Mack held his finger over his lips. "Someone's coming. We gotta get out of here."

  Quickly, Mack reached in front of her and shut the computer off. Then his fingers closed around hers and he yanked her up from the chair. Blindly, she followed behind him, as fast as her scrapes and bruises would allow.

  At the top of the stairs, he opened the door a crack and looked right and left, then pushed Kate out ahead of him. "Get in your car and get out of here," he whispered.

  "I'm not going without you. You're still in my program."

  "Kate, get in your car and get the hell out of here," he repeated through gritted teeth.

  She stood her ground. "Not without you."

  "Hey, who's there?" a deep voice shouted from below.

  Mack let the door close behind him. "Get out of here, Kate. Now! And don't tell anyone that I'm alive. I need to buy some time. Promise me." Mack looked torn between staying with her and taking off at a dead run. He grabbed her hands, and looked deep into her eyes. "Promise me, Kate. Please."

  She couldn't deny him that. "I promise. But you go first. I'll try a diversion. Meet me at my office above Clancy's Pizza."

  "Kate, I don't want you near me."

  Kate's heart sank. She was just his warden, nothing else. Funny, she thought she’d meant something more to him. "Well, you’re stuck with me."

  He didn't argue. He was gone.

  "Who's there?" shouted someone behind her.

  "Oh...sorry..." She read the gold name tag on his chest, "Officer Gilmartin. I'm Kate. Kate Kingston. I was just looking for a place to clean up a bit, if you wouldn't mind. I fell." She pointed to the dried trails of blood on her legs and elb
ows, but he didn't look. His eyes skimmed the area instead. Looking for someone. Mack?

  "No one is with me. I'm alone." Well, that wasn't a lie. Not now. "I don't know if you've heard or not, but Sergeant Mackowitz's house burned down. They are going to—" She swallowed hard, remembering the panic she felt when she thought that Mack was dead. "They are looking for his body. I was wondering if you have any news."

  "Umm...no," he mumbled. "No news yet."

  #

  Where is he?

  Kate paced her office and checked her watch. It was ten-thirty at night. She had left Mack at ten-thirty this morning.

  What had he been doing these past twelve hours?

  She had told him to meet her at her office, but it looked like he wasn't going to show.

  The VV-98 logged the fact that the ankle monitor had been cut off at precisely nine fourteen this morning. About the same time his house blew up.

  Where was he?

  The somber reporter on the evening news said that Sergeant John Mackowitz was believed to have perished in a fire at his residence, but investigators were still uncertain. The reporter carried on about Mack's recent arrest for several charges of selling drugs and mentioned Tom Murray being shot and in critical condition. Then he hinted that Mack might have tried to commit suicide by setting his house on fire.

  Kate clicked off the TV. That was enough of that.

  She closed her eyes for a while and stretched out on her couch. Her mind was reeling, and she was tired and achy from the fall. It was a mistake promising Mack that she wouldn't tell that he was still alive.

  "I need to buy some time," he had said.

  Well, he had all the time in the world now. He was out there without monitoring. He had cut off another anklet, making it worthless, and hundreds of dollars of her equipment had gone up in smoke.

  But it was all covered by insurance and would be easy to replace.

  Mack's life was impossible to replace.

  Kate remembered the confiscated drugs directory she found on the cop computer–inventory and destruction. What did he suspect?

  She thought she should at least call Pete Nash and let him know that Mack was alive. But she'd promised she wouldn't tell anyone. Surely, he didn't mean Pete.

  For heaven's sake, where was Mack?

  #

  Mack made sure no one followed him before he picked the lock on Kate's office door. He was dead tired, needed a shower, and hoped she wouldn't mind putting him up.