Task Force Bride

by Julie Miller

  * * *

  “HOW LONG DO you think it’s been?” Detective Montgomery asked.

  Pike didn’t have time to piece together clues and figure this out intellectually, so his brother answered. “Fifteen minutes, twenty, tops, sir. Pike left the building at 5:10 a.m. I picked up Miss Sapphire at quarter after. It’s not five-thirty yet.”

  “The street’s blocked to the south, so he had to go north. Traffic Patrol would have spotted a speeding car, so he can’t have gotten far. I’m calling in every favor I’ve got for this manhunt.” Montgomery pulled out his phone. “Nick’s already going door to door. Maggie Wheeler, Dr. Kate and her friend Sheriff Harrison are on their way. I’ll contact Dispatch and get every available uniform here ASAP.”

  “Belay that phone call, sir.” Rank didn’t matter when it came to Hope. Pike was giving the orders now.

  They didn’t need manpower. They didn’t need men.

  Pike knelt beside Hope’s glasses and shattered phone and let Hans sniff the white nightgown he held in his gloved hand. “I need you to do this for me, boy. I need you to find her. Please.”

  The German shepherd whined and tilted his head to one side. Pike could tell from his excited panting that he had the scent and was ready to work. But his partner wasn’t used to being asked. He was used to being led. Pike pushed to his feet and opened the shop’s front door.

  “Hans! Such!”

  * * *

  HOPE CAME TO with a start. The pungent liquid splashing on her chest and neck acted like smelling salts, piercing the fog of her headache and waking her to the cool lights of the room above her.

  Above?

  Automatically, she reached up to adjust her glasses. But both hands came up, and she hissed at the sharp pinch at her wrists. They were duct-taped together.

  Half-blind? Bound?

  Fear sharpened her senses further and Hope squinted to bring something—anything—into focus. Colorless walls reflected a single light hanging overhead. From the angle of things, she must be lying on the floor. She couldn’t make out any windows, couldn’t tell if it was morning or night.

  But her other senses worked just fine. The cold liquid hit her belly and she shrieked. Vinegar? She jerked away from the smelly dousing and rolled over a sheet of plastic that popped and crackled when she moved. Beneath the plastic, something padded protected her from the hardness of the brown floor. A mattress. The air was chilly and stale, with no moving air. And she was shivering because her sweater had been cut or ripped and pushed aside, leaving her in a bra and blue jeans for protection and warmth.

  And then she saw the black shadow moving past her feet and remembered the reflection in the glass.

  Hope startled, tried to scoot away. But a strong hand clamped over her ankle and pulled her back into place. She was going to die. She was going to be horribly violated, made to suffer and then she would die.

  “Where am I? Who are you? Why are you doing this?” she asked in rapid succession. Oh, God, she was in terrible trouble. Where was Pike? Did he know how much she loved him? Would it matter? Did she have any chance of saving herself? “Do you have my glasses? I can’t see,” she admitted as the first hot tear ran across her cheek to her ear.

  The man laughed.

  Finally, he spoke. “I’ve been such a fool.” Five simple words and she felt light-headed again. Sick to her stomach. Heartbroken. She knew that voice. All this time...so many conversations. And she’d never had any idea of his dark, dangerous secret. “You never saw me at all that night, did you? With those eyes, in the shadows, you never really could. And to think I believed the lies you told.”

  Hope blinked away the tears that burned her eyes. “Brian? Brian Elliott? You’re...”

  “Yes.” Something silky soft and sweetly fragrant touched her nose and she jerked away from the sickening caress. A red rose. “I’m the devil the police can never catch. I’m the man terrorizing the women of this city. I’m teaching every greedy, selfish witch that she’s not everything she thinks she is. I’m the Rose Red Rapist.” He crawled over her, dropping the rose beside her as he came into view. He was wearing that glaring white surgeon’s mask over the bottom half of his face. But the eyes above the mask were dark and clear, and sadly familiar. “But you’re never going to tell anyone that.”

  He reached down and unsnapped her jeans. When the zipper began to slide apart, she shook off the shock of never knowing what an evil man her mentor and friend had been—of never even suspecting how sadistic he could be. “Stop it!”

  She bucked beneath him, clawed the air to stop his hands. But she was helpless. Trapped.

  Brian picked up a bottle, although she couldn’t make out the contents. “Women are filthy creatures, you know. You can’t trust them.” He poured the liquid onto a cloth and she realized that was the vinegar mixture he’d thrown on her earlier. Hope sucked in her breath when he laid the cloth on her stomach and started to bathe her. “They take everything you have—your money, your trust, your heart—and they grind it into dust beneath their feet. They use you. They humiliate you.”

  She arched her back, trying to escape the cloth sliding over her skin. “I never did.”

  “I thought you were different, Hope. I made you into the success you are. I coaxed you out of your shell and taught you to trust your vision. I gave you a building to live and work in—”

  “I bought that building.” She snatched at the cloth, but he pulled it beyond her reach. “You invested in my shop.”

  “I never thought you would betray me. You were always so dutiful. So appreciative.”

  “I worked hard to get where I am. I thought you were proud of me.”

  “I was. And then...”

  “What? What did I do, Brian? What did any of those women you hurt do to you? Bailey Austin? LaDonna Chambers?”

  “You’re all like Mara.”

  “Your ex-wife?” He freshened the washrag and slipped it beneath the elastic of her panties. “Why are you doing this?”

  “You humiliated me. You played me for a fool.”

  “Stop it, Brian.” She tried to sit up, but he shoved her back down. “You don’t want to do this.”

  “I’ve never heard you talk this much before, Hope. I don’t like it.” He reached across her and came back with a box cutter that he trailed against her cheek.

  Hope jerked her head away from the sharp blade. “The police will find you. You won’t get away with this.”

  “I’ve gotten away with this for years. A mousy little slut like you isn’t going to change that.”

  She heard the ripping sound of tape before she felt the vibration of a slamming door from somewhere beneath them. “Where are we?”

  “Shut up.”

  “Brian—”

  “Shut up!” He slapped her across the mouth, stunning her long enough for him to press a piece of duct tape over her mouth. He jerked her jeans down her hips and Hope screamed helplessly behind the tape.

  Do something. Make a noise. Help them find you.

  If there was ever a time in her life she needed her voice to be heard, it was right now.

  While Brian unhooked his belt, Hope reached up and peeled the tape from her lips. “Help me! Help—”

  When his fist came down, she raised her hands to deflect the blow. Brian grabbed her wrists and pushed them over her head, tearing skin beneath the tape as she thrashed and screamed. He lay across her, reaching for something. She kicked. She twisted. She heard the clatter of heavy objects hitting metal and wood. He grunted. She jerked. Brian sat up, his weight straddling her body and crushing the breath from her lungs. He raised his hand and she saw the hammer he’d pulled from the toolbox beside her.

  Hope screamed.

  “KCPD!” She heard a loud bang and the splintering of solid wood. Brian turned. “Hans! Fass!”

  A blur of black and tan leaped at billionaire Brian Elliott and knocked him to the floor.

  Hope tumbled off the mattress as Brian cursed and screamed. She’
d heard ferocious snarls like that once before in her life. Even dazed and frightened, without her glasses, she knew exactly what was happening. There was the initial blow that knocked the wind and sense from a body. The bruising punctures. The tearing skin.

  “Hope? Hope!” Pike pulled Hope to her feet and tucked her behind the broad wall of his back. “How bad are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay,” she whispered. She pulled up her jeans and fastened them as best she could with her clothes wet and her hands still bound. She curled her fingers into Pike’s belt and moved with him as he pointed his gun at Brian Elliott. “I’m okay,” she repeated with more strength.

  “Hans! Platz!” In a heartbeat, the growling stopped and the big dog sat back on his haunches and lay down.

  “Damn.” Brian writhed on the floor, clutching his injured arm to his stomach. “Filthy beast! You’ve killed me.”

  “Shut up, Elliott, or I’ll let him do it.”

  “I need to wash. I need to clean it off.”

  Pike inched closer with the gun and pressed it against Brian’s skull. “Don’t move.”

  Other than breathing hard and moaning in pain, Brian didn’t.

  “Come here, baby.” Pike shifted his gun to one hand and reached behind him to hug Hope to his side. “How many doors do I have to break down to get to you?” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair and then turned his attention to the man bleeding on the plastic-covered mattress. “Brian Elliott, you are under arrest for kidnapping and assault on Hope Lockhart. Other charges will be filed against you. You have the right to remain silent.” More footsteps stampeded up the stairs and blurry figures she couldn’t recognize charged into the room. “You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t—”

  “We’ve got it, Taylor.” Hope recognized Spencer Montgomery’s voice. “Nick, cuff this bastard.” The detective’s red hair came into focus as Pike backed away from the man on the floor. “Are you okay, Miss Lockhart?” He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Let’s get a bus here and have this woman looked at.”

  She nodded and he faded away again as Pike turned her away from the black uniforms and plainclothes officers storming into the room. “Come on, honey. You’ve done your part.” He pushed her several steps out of the way while he holstered his weapon and ripped apart the Velcro fastenings on his flak vest. “You’ve done a hell of a lot more than we had the right to ask of you.”

  “I can’t see anything, Pike. I feel so lost.”

  “Here. Probably should have left them at the crime scene, but...” The first thing Hope saw when Pike slipped her glasses onto her nose was the clear blue gaze of his eyes. They were dark with concern, lined with fatigue—and the most beautiful sight she could hope to see.

  Joy and relief rushed through her before caution and common sense could, and Hope stretched up onto her toes and looped her bound arms around Pike’s neck. “You found me. You saved me. Just like you promised.”

  His arms cinched around her back and he lifted her clear off the floor, turning his face into her hair. “Hans found you. He followed your scent across two city streets and up three flights of stairs. He’s the one who saved you.”

  Hope struggled to find the floor again, to stand on her own two feet and frame Pike’s anguished face between her hands. “Who trained Hans? Who busted up that door so he could get to me? Who never gave up on me?” She pulled his head down and kissed him, just the way he’d taught her how. “Thank you,” she whispered as she settled back on her feet. “Thank you.”

  Without a you’re welcome or no problem or my pleasure, ma’am, Pike pushed his vest over his head and dropped it to the floor. He picked up the very box cutter Brian had threatened her with and sliced through the tape on her wrists. Then he pulled off her ruined sweater and replaced it with the blue flannel shirt he wore.

  And while Pike buttoned her up, the rest of the room came into focus. They were at a construction site. She recognized the two-by-fours framing open walls that had been covered in plastic.

  “Secure this location,” Montgomery ordered. There were several voices talking now. Clipped commands and “yes, sirs.”

  “This crazy guy has created his own sterile room.” That was Detective Fensom. “He could move this setup from building site to building site. No wonder we could never come up with a crime scene. Annie’s going to have a field day processing this one.”

  “So let’s get everyone out of here before we contaminate any more of it.” Spencer Montgomery was clearly the man in charge. “Get Chief Taylor on the line and wake up the commissioner. I’m escorting this guy downtown myself.”

  “I want a doctor and my lawyer,” Brian protested.

  “Bring Miss Lockhart, too.”

  “Yes, sir,” Pike answered, catching a T-shirt that one of the uniformed officers tossed to him, and slipping it on over his head. “Need anything before we go downtown?” he asked her.

  Another kiss? A chance to erase the guilt that lingered in his eyes? But what if he didn’t want her to ask those things, anymore? They didn’t have to pretend to be a couple anymore.

  They were a cop and a shopkeeper.

  They were friends.

  “Yes, wait.” She couldn’t leave yet, not without the rest of her protection team. “Hans! Hier!”

  The German shepherd jumped to his feet and trotted over to her. “Setzen!” He sat down beside her and Hope knew an urge to drop to her knees and hug him around the neck, too. But training was a slow, repetitive process. And she still had a ways to go to completely move past those long-ingrained fears. But she did reached down and scratch around his soft, furry ears. “Good boy, Hansie. Good boy.”

  If Pike hadn’t laced his fingers with hers just then, she might have burst into tears. Instead, she latched onto the strength of his hand, to the strength he’d revealed inside her.

  She had a feeling she’d need every last bit of that strength to get through the rest of the day—maybe, to get through the rest of her life.

  “Thank you, Hans.” She petted the dog one more time, then headed to the door with Pike on her left and Hans on her right. She was safe. Kansas City was safe. It was enough. “Thank you both.”

  Chapter Twelve

  How long were Spencer Montgomery and Nick Fensom going to keep grilling Hope?

  When Pike stepped off the elevator onto the third floor at Fourth Precinct headquarters, her curly mane of toffee hair was the first thing he spotted. Without the overbearing assistance of either her attorney or her mentor, Hope was sitting across from Detective Montgomery at his desk, going over some kind of paperwork. Maybe it was just the formal approval of her statement. And maybe the detectives were demanding something more from a brave woman who had already given far too much.

  They had Brian Elliott dead to rights on kidnapping and assault charges, thanks to Hope. And the task force was certain they could get him on the multiple rape charges now that he could be compelled to give a DNA sample to match the evidence they had on file at the crime lab. If they got a witness to come forward who could put Elliott at any one of those previous crimes, they’d have a slam-dunk case for the D.A.’s office, and the man would never get out of prison.

  Pike leaned against the sergeant’s counter, scrubbing the tight muscles of his jaw as he watched over the conversation from a distance. Even though the detectives had let her shower and put on a borrowed set of gray KCPD sweats after Annie Hermann had taken her clothes and Pike’s shirt, and processed Hope for evidence, the grueling marathon of wrapping up the details of the task force investigation had to be wearing her out. Hell, Pike was exhausted. And he hadn’t been struck in the head, kidnapped and nearly assaulted.

  She’d sat through the task force briefing with his team, eaten a lousy cafeteria lunch and identified Elliott in a lineup, first with, and then without, that neurotic surgical mask he’d been wearing that first night he’d nearly run her off the road with his van. Pike had even had time to run down to the locker room to shower and shav
e and put on a clean uniform while Hope met with Commissioner Cartwright-Masterson and Pike’s uncle, Precinct Chief Mitch Taylor, to receive an official departmental thank-you for a citizen going above and beyond to help serve and protect her community.

  They’d have to feed her dinner soon if they kept Hope here much longer. And Pike wanted that opportunity for himself. He wanted to take her home, at least. Let her change into something demure and girly, and run around barefoot. He wanted to tuck her into bed and watch over her and teach her a thing or two more about making out and making love—or maybe he’d let her teach him since she seemed to have such a flair for making him crazy in all the right ways.

  “Earth to Edison.” A bump on his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Yo, Pike.”

  Pike pushed away from the sergeant’s desk and looked down to see his brother Alex grinning up at him. “Now what?”

  He knew that look. Alex was cooking up something that was going to either embarrass him or put him in his place.

  “I was just wondering how long you were going to stand here looking at that woman before you work up the nerve to go over there and do something about it.”

  “Do something about what?”

  Alex punched him again. “How much you love her.”

  Pike shrugged off Alex’s annoying attempt to get a reaction out of him. “It was a fake relationship, Alex. An undercover op.”

  “Uh-huh.” Alex crossed his arms in front of him, mimicking Pike’s stance. “I saw the look on your face when you realized Elliott had her. That wasn’t worry that you’d blown the assignment—that was a man who had his heart ripped out of his chest because he thought he might lose the woman he loves.”

  Surprised by his brother’s serious tone, Pike released a heavy breath and admitted his fear. “What if it was just a job to her? Hope doesn’t have a lot of experience with men. Now that she knows she can do anything she sets her mind to, be with anyone she wants—what if she decides I’m not what she wants?”