A Silent Fury

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A Silent Fury Page 13

by Lynette Eason


  “And have you?”

  She shrugged. Had she? With a start, she realized that those few moments with her mother today had gone a long way toward dispelling the raging fury she’d carried in her heart for so long. More so than working as an officer had. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know.”

  “I want to be there for you, Catie.”

  “And I want you to be there, but I don’t think I’m capable of having a relationship with another cop.” She stared into his eyes and took a deep breath. “No matter how much my heart might want to.”

  With that, she climbed out of his vehicle and into her own, not bothering to look back. Because if she looked back, she knew he’d be watching her and she’d cave in to the urge to run into his arms, eating her words and throwing caution to the wind.

  And with visions of the screaming matches she’d grown up with flashing in her mind, she knew she just couldn’t do that.

  Arriving home, Catelyn pulled into her garage this time and went in the back door. A quick inspection told her no one had been in the house during her absence except for the professional cleaning service she’d called in to repair what the vandals had destroyed.

  Her house looked good, finally back in order—if missing a few electronics. She’d get an insurance check for that soon enough. No time to watch TV anyway.

  She kicked off her shoes and looked longingly toward her bedroom. Fatigue gripped her, numbing her mind, pulling on her body. The day had been an eternity what with the visit with her mother, telling Joseph about her father, avoiding her feelings for Joseph and trying to stay on top of this case.

  Now, she just wanted to sleep for a few hours before starting all over again.

  But first she checked all the doors and windows one more time. Just to be sure.

  Not usually nervous about turning the lights out, she realized she didn’t want to be in the dark tonight.

  Leaving the hall light burning, she crawled into her bed and prayed. Lord, You’ve shown me some pretty incredible things about myself lately. I’m not sure what to think about everything, to be honest. Especially this thing that seems to be between Joseph and myself. I guess I’m going to have to leave that for You to figure out. And as for today with my mother—thanks. I needed that. I still don’t understand why my father did what he did, I don’t know why You couldn’t have just…

  She cut off the prayer feeling the anger rise back up in her. It would take time, she figured. Time to process it all again. Maybe she’d never be at peace about it. The thought terrified her because more than anything, she wanted peace.

  Peace, Lord. Please give me peace…

  She must have drifted off because something awakened her. She lay still, wondering what it could have been. Usually once she fell asleep, she slept until her alarm went off.

  Something had disturbed that. The air in her room seemed different. A smell that she didn’t recognize. A combination of body odor and cigarettes?

  Then she realized…

  ...someone was in here with her.

  Her nerves bunched. Frozen, her eyes probed the shadows. Very little moonlight made its way through her heavy curtains. Usually she liked to sleep in pure darkness. The light from the hallway was out. Now the night seemed to press in on her.

  Her heart pounding, her palms slick, she pondered what to do. How to react. Which way to move. Where was he? Not daring to move to alert whoever was in the room that she was awake, she calculated how long it would take to roll to her left, grab open the night stand and palm her gun.

  The shadows shifted.

  He was beside her bed.

  She tensed her muscles to roll to the right.

  Without warning, something soft fell across her face and pressure from above kept it there.

  She was too late!

  Flinging her arms up, she tried to push the object away. Felt hard fists clenched into the fabric.

  She couldn’t scream, couldn’t breathe!

  Someone was trying to kill her by smothering her with her own pillow. She kicked, bucked, turned her head and managed a small gasp of air before the small opening closed.

  God, help me!

  Churning her arms, she tried to punch. Her feeble blows fell on a bare arm. Panicking, she dug her fingernails in.

  The arm flinched away from her and she managed to push the pillow to the side while her attacker fought to maneuver it back into place.

  Another gasp of life-giving air. Then the pillow returned heavier than before. Brain racing, she frantically brought both hands up and felt a head, ears. She pushed, but couldn’t budge the person above her.

  Help! Help me! Her mind screamed; terror nearly scrambled her thinking.

  Then an idea filtered through the fog of fear.

  Fisting her hands, she laid her arms spread eagle on the bed then brought them up with all her strength, effectively boxing her attacker’s ears.

  A howl of rage and pain reached her as he flung himself back. As he jerked away from her, she grasped the mask covering his face. The sliver of moonlight caught on a lantern-shaped chin. Then he was in the dark and disappearing fast.

  Kicking at the covers, Catelyn rolled to her right and landed on the opposite side of the bed. Fleeing feet headed for her bedroom door.

  “Oh…no…you…don’t!” she ground out through gasps for air and gritted teeth.

  But she was on the wrong side of the bed. Her gun was in the other nightstand. Flipping herself over the bed, she grabbed the drawer and yanked.

  Gun in one hand, cordless phone in the other, she took off after the escaping thug. She could hear him pounding through her kitchen, then the slam of the back door.

  She punched in 911 and headed out after her target.

  TWELVE

  Joseph lifted his head from the kitchen table, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around. He’d fallen asleep over the case files.

  What time was it?

  The stove clock read 1:38.

  Time to get comfortable and get some sleep. He still had his gun strapped to his arm and his phone on his belt. His gaze dropped to the picture of the missing girl. Kelly Franklin. Was she still alive? Was she hurt? Suffering? Or was she already long dead, Tracy’s killer striking twice. But she’d been alive after Tracy had died. That much he thought he knew. The flip-flop left at the first scene indicated she was at least still alive when she was taken from the campus.

  And the other found in a storage shed full of stolen goods. Was she a part of the ring? Or had she stumbled on all of this accidentally? Digging into her life had shown her to be a “good girl” who hung out with the right crowd with the exception of Tracy Merritt. Kelly went to church every Sunday. Was friends with Alonso, girlfriend to Dylan, who had a bit of a shady past, but seemed to be trying to turn it around. Maybe Kelly was a positive influence on him.

  Why was she at the school that night? To meet Dylan as he’d said? But neither were dorm students. Because she lived in town, normally, Tracy wouldn’t stay on campus overnight, but because she played basketball, she was allowed to be a temporary residential student.

  So, Kelly and Dylan had planned to meet that night at the school for whatever reason. Kelly arrived early and got into an argument with Tracy. Dylan came upon them fighting, got into the thick of it, then left when Kelly wanted to finish whatever she and Tracy were arguing about.

  He pulled out the text message log from the phones. Kelly and Dylan had arranged their rendezvous. Nothing about meeting Tracy. So it hadn’t been prearranged. Tracy’s cell had no texts that evening.

  Zachary’s had several to his coach about meeting for practice, confirming game times, baseball chit-chat, and then telling him about Tracy’s funeral. Nothing unusual. Nothing revealing. Nothing to indicate who he was meeting with the day of the funeral. He could have received a text anytime during the day and met up with the person several hours later.

  However, there was one text that Zachary had received about an hour befo
re he was reported to have left the house. It read “Stay out of stuff that’s not your business or you’ll be very sorry.”

  The text came from Stacy Dillard’s phone. This was a new twist. What was the woman doing sending that text to Zachary? Definitely something to ask her about tomorrow.

  Joseph sighed and put the papers aside then reached up to rub his eyes.

  And then there was Catelyn. What was he going to do about the only woman who’d ever driven him to distraction? Made him pace the floor at night thinking about how much he missed her and wished God would intervene to change her heart.

  Her parents had done a number on her. Especially her father. Suicide…whoa. No wonder she was so angry.

  Joseph sighed—and nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed.

  Dispatch. What?

  “Joseph here.”

  “This is Margo in dispatch. Sorry about the lateness of the call, but I just got a 911 call from your partner’s house reporting an intruder. I know Catelyn pretty well and know you guys are working together. Figured you’d want to know.”

  “You figured right. I’m on my way. Thanks.”

  Joseph punched in Catelyn’s number as his steps ate up the distance between the kitchen and the back door. Her phone rang four times then went to voice mail.

  He hung up as he threw himself into his car. He could be at Catelyn’s in approximately seven minutes. He planned to make it in five.

  Where was he? Fury battled common sense. Her gun gripped in her right hand, she followed the path she thought her intruder had taken. Flashing lights pierced the darkness letting her know help had arrived.

  But the guy she was after was getting away.

  Had gotten away.

  She’d lost him.

  Winded, she leaned against the nearest telephone pole, and searched every nook and cranny within seeing distance.

  He was around here somewhere, she felt sure, but with so many houses, bushes, trees, open garages, there was no way to figure out where he’d gone.

  But they would search.

  The squeal of tires caught her attention and she spun to see taillights disappear around the corner.

  Picking up her cell, she dialed dispatch again. She needed Margo to patch her through to whoever was going to be in charge.

  Eyes still scanning the shadows, she listened to it ring. Margo picked up before the first ring ended. “Catelyn, is that you?”

  “It’s me. He got away. I think he’s heading north down Kendall Street. Get a car after him, will you?”

  “You chased him?” She sounded outraged.

  “I knew you were sending backup.” Catelyn winced at the slight whine in her voice. “Anyway, I need some manpower out here to search the area and make sure he isn’t taking refuge in someone’s house or garage. I’m pretty sure he was in the car and is long gone by now, but we’ve got to check.”

  “It’s on the way.”

  “Catelyn?”

  She turned and her heart nosedived to her toes before banging back up. “Joseph? What are you doing here?”

  “Margo called me.”

  “Ah. Well, she needn’t have bothered. Sorry to get you out of bed.”

  “I haven’t made it there yet. What happened?”

  Remembered terror flooded her and she shivered. “I was asleep, or at least dozing. Something woke me up and I realized I wasn’t alone in the room. Then I felt a pillow slam over my face…” She broke off and swallowed.

  “Catie,” he whispered, and wrapped his arms around her.

  It felt like coming home.

  The shakes set in and she felt the tremors rock through her. Yes, she was a cop, but she was still human. And she’d been personally attacked twice now. Her house and now her physical person. It was enough to throw the strongest person off her game.

  She pulled in a deep breath and stepped back. “Thanks,” she whispered without meeting his eyes.

  “You’re welcome. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  “I’m all right. I’m just wondering how he got in.”

  “Let’s check it out.”

  Catelyn started back the way she’d come. She hadn’t gone too far from her house when she’d lost the guy. Back in her driveway, she noticed something for the first time. “My garage door is open.”

  “You didn’t open it?”

  “No. I was stunned and mad when I came out chasing that guy and didn’t stop to think about it, but I always close my garage at night. Maybe that’s what woke me and not the smell.”

  “Did you lock the door going into the house?”

  She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “I think so. I remember checking all the locks before going to bed, so yes, I’m pretty sure it was locked.”

  He stepped closer. “Let’s see if we can get some prints off this. I can’t tell by just looking at it, but I bet someone picked your lock. Did you notice if he was wearing gloves?”

  She closed her eyes, forcing herself to remember what she’d felt when she’d reached up and felt his arm, his head, his fists. His ear.

  “No, he wasn’t and he was wearing two earrings in his left ear. Plus, I pulled a ski mask off and caught sight of his chin. Unfortunately, I couldn’t see anything else.’

  “So you wouldn’t recognize him if you saw him again?”

  “No,” She sighed. “Probably not.”

  Two hours later, the crime-scene unit had finished up and the clock was pushing 3:45. There’d been no sign of her intruder. Joseph walked into her den and sat on the couch beside her. She had her knees pulled up, her forehead resting on them.

  He reached over to rub her shoulder. “Are you going to be all right?”

  “I don’t know” came her mumbled response.

  “It’s a good thing you scratched him. The tissue they scraped from under your nails will be helpful—especially if it matches up with a guy who’s got two earrings in his left ear.”

  “I know,” she said to her knees.

  Tilting her chin, he looked into her eyes. Eyes so blue, they usually reminded him of the ocean on a clear day. Only tonight, they were stormy gray. Vulnerability shone through the clouds and his heart clenched with sympathy.

  He leaned closer, placing his lips on hers, feeling their softness, remembering their texture. He waited a moment, giving her the opportunity to pull away if she wanted.

  Instead, a soft sigh escaped her and she let him kiss her. Just a soft, comforting kiss that touched his heart with tender fingers, yet left him longing for more.

  Then he transferred the kiss to her forehead and she wrapped her arms around him to let him hold her.

  Never had a moment been so sweet. He cherished it while he could, figuring when she got her feet back under her, she’d be off and running again.

  “You’d better go,” she mumbled against his chest.

  “I know.” He didn’t move. She was letting him hold her, letting him see her vulnerable side and he didn’t want the moment to end.

  “You’re not going to get much sleep,” she warned him.

  “I’ve gone on less.”

  With a sigh, she pulled away and his arms ached with loneliness. The sensation startled him, then he realized she was right. He should go.

  He stood, and she gave him a small shove. “Give me a wake-up call, okay?”

  “Sure. Try not worry. Your guy’s probably not coming back.”

  “Probably not, but I’m still getting an alarm system put in.”

  “I can’t believe you don’t have one already.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve thought about it, of course, even had a company come out and give me an estimate. They’re pretty expensive and with Mom in the nursing home…”

  “Doesn’t her pension pay for that?”

  “No. She quit the force, remember?”

  “So you…”

  “Yeah, me.” She waved him to the door. “Go on, get out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow…um, today…in a couple of hours.”

&nb
sp; He lifted a hand and ran a finger down her cheek, started to say something, then closed his mouth and walked out the door.

  THIRTEEN

  Catelyn couldn’t believe it. First, she’d let him kiss her after she’d given him a list of reasons a relationship between them would never work. And second, the big lug had slept in his car for the past—she looked at the clock—three and a half hours. She’d fallen into bed after setting her alarm and only rolled out fifteen minutes ago. She’d slept hard, her body craving the rest, and yet she’d been restless, too, worried her intruder might come back. And feeling guilty for resting when Kelly was still missing.

  Joseph hadn’t told her that he was planning on standing guard because he knew she wouldn’t let him…or would, at the very least, lose sleep over his act of chivalry because she’d feel guilty that she was snug in her bed while he earned a crick in his neck.

  The man knew her well for the most part.

  Standing in her kitchen sipping a cup of the strongest coffee she could stand, she looked out her window and watched him stir.

  He cared about her. She’d have to be comatose not to see it. The thought warmed her and scared her to death.

  But she just couldn’t get past her parents’ lousy marriage—and the fear that she couldn’t live up to Joseph’s expectations of what being a wife entailed.

  Although she realized she desperately wanted to. As long as she could be his wife and do her job. But that wasn’t to be. He wanted a wife who’d be happy staying at home and there was no way that was going to be her.

  That line of thought startled her. For so long, she’d refused to even consider marriage to another cop simply because of her childhood. But Joseph, ever since their first meeting when she’d been a hurting teen and he’d been the brother of her best friend, they’d had a connection…a…something.

  So, did that mean if Joseph suddenly decided he would be happy having a cop for a wife, she’d change her stance on marriage to a police officer?

 

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