by Terry Odell
Randy's heart jumped to his throat. "What other one?" he demanded.
"That one was part of a set." He motioned upstairs with his head. "The other one's waiting for me. She should be all right for a while longer." His sneer chilled Randy's blood to ice.
"You gonna tell us where she is, or do we have to play rough?" Kovak asked Watson. He helped Grady pull the man to his feet.
Watson smirked. "You can't touch me. That's police brutality."
"Grady," Randy said. "I think you should go check out this creep's story, and see if the ambulance is here yet."
The office grunted and left the house.
"What do you mean, brutality?" Randy turned his attention to Watson. He squeezed the man's arm. "You mean if my flashlight accidentally fell against your knee? Would that be brutality, Kovak?"
"You know I hate this part. I think maybe I'll go out with Grady," Kovak said. He turned away and took two steps toward the front door.
Watson sneered. "What about my rights? Don't you gotta read me something?"
"You watch too much television. Let me tell you something, creep. We've got you cold on Amanda—that's the little girl you left upstairs. Frankly, I don't think it makes one bit of difference if we violate any of your rights on the other child. You're going down."
Watson scowled and looked at the floor. He struggled, but Randy simply bore down harder.
Grady's voice came over the radio. "The creep's telling the truth. Another child reported missing."
Randy put his hand around Watson's neck and began squeezing. "You gonna talk now, or what?"
A glimmer of fear appeared in Watson's eyes. "I'll have to show you. She's in the woods. Hidden. I couldn't describe it."
"Let's go. Just remember I have a gun on you. Nothing funny. The paperwork's a bitch, but in this case, it would be worth it." Randy shoved the man toward the door and arranged for Grady to wait for the lab techs and the ambulance. "C'mon partner. Let's see how helpful Mr. Watson really is."
The three of them headed toward the woods. Watson took the lead, with Randy half a step behind him, holding onto the cuffs. Kovak followed a few paces behind, illuminating the trail with his flashlight.
"You trust this guy?" Randy asked. "Think he's really going to show us where she is?"
"Not for a second," Kovak said.
"There's a pretty big side trail, here," Kovak called to Randy. "Looks like it's been used recently. I think maybe I should take a quick detour."
"Go for it," Randy said. "Watson and I will wait in that clearing ten feet up."
As they reached the clearing, Watson stopped short and bent over, wheezing. "I need to catch my breath." He spun around and butted his head into Randy's solar plexus, throwing all his weight into the lunge, and took off.
Randy found himself on his butt, struggling to take a breath. "Fuck!" He clambered to his feet and managed to shout for Kovak before racing across after Watson. Dammit, he wasn't going to lose this creep. His longer stride overtook the man just as they reached the end of the clearing. He grabbed him by the collar and spun him around.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He pushed him into the nearest tree. "Maybe I'll just tie you up here and bring in the dogs. You're obviously no use."
"Detweiler! Where are you?" Kovak's voice came from the other side of the clearing.
"Over here!"
"Found her. She's all right. Just scared."
Randy turned his light back toward the house. Kovak emerged from the trees, a young girl cradled in his arms. A weight lifted from Randy's shoulders, one he hadn't been aware he was carrying. He shoved Watson. "Move it. You're going straight to jail. No passing Go, no collecting two hundred dollars. And since you asked, I'll even read you your rights." He prodded and shoved his prisoner back to where his partner waited. The two men flanked Watson. Randy put a death grip on Watson's arm. "March."
Randy heard Kovak singing a familiar lullaby. By the last verse, they were back at the cars. Kovak entrusted the child to the paramedics and shoved Watson at Mac and Grady. "Take him to the station. We're right behind you." He spun on his heel and marched to Randy's truck, a satisfied smile on his face.
"We got him, partner," Kovak said. "But can I be the bad cop next time?"
"No problem," Randy said and turned on the ignition.
*****
An hour passed, then two. Frustration turned to anger, anger turned to worry. Half a dozen times, Sarah picked up the phone, then put it back. If Randy needed to be alone tonight, so be it. But she vowed this would be the last time he shut her out.
The telephone rang and her stomach flipped at Kovak's voice.
"Oh, God. Has something happened to Randy?"
"No, no. Randy's fine. We had a lead on the kidnapper, and I dragged him away from the track. Things happened pretty fast, and we've been preoccupied. The suspect's in custody. Randy's fine, but cleaning this all up will take a while. Tons of paperwork. He'll be late, and he didn't want you to worry." His voice was grim.
She feared the answer, but asked anyway. "Did you find Amanda?"
"That we did. And another one. They're both okay. Gotta get back to work. Randy said not to wait up."
She clenched the handset. It was all she could do to control her voice. She forced a lightness to her response. "Thanks. I'm sure everyone will be relieved."
"You're upset," Kovak said. "Look, I've known Randy a long time. He builds walls. He's not a talker. This was a tough one for him."
She might have known she couldn't fool Kovak. "Thanks for calling," she said before her voice gave way, and she broke the connection.
She stood holding the phone for a long moment. The lump in her throat disappeared, and a cold fury suffused her. How dare Randy blow her off and have Kovak call? He could put the phone on speaker and talk while he filled out the damn paperwork. It was called multitasking.
She shook it off. Getting angry was not the answer. Randy loved her. He just hadn't figured out how to let her into the cop part of his life yet. She'd have to help him. Tomorrow, she'd insist they talk it out. Right now, she would take a long, hot bubble bath. One of her coping mechanisms.
Steam filled the bathroom as Sarah ran the water. One of the luxuries of being married to a very tall man with a custom built bathroom was a tub she could lose herself in. She poked through the cabinet for candles and arranged them all around the tub ledge. After slipping out of her clothes, she pulled the box of matches from a drawer. The flickering glow of the candles and the soft popping of bubbles soothed her.
Sarah climbed the three steps to the tub and lowered herself into its enveloping warmth, felt the tension flow out of her body. She concentrated on slowing her breathing, and did some of the relaxation exercises she'd learned at the support group sessions after her kidnapping. Memories of those days were buried deep within her, but she could remember how Randy had blamed himself for her abduction. It hadn't been his fault. Pine Hills was usually a quiet town. On a normal day, Randy would deal with petty theft, malicious mischief, kids getting drunk. Even though whatever had happened to Amanda was nothing like her own experience, she could understand how Randy must have felt.
The rational side of her said Randy wanted to be alone. He'd call it a 'guy thing.' But simply being in Randy's arms calmed her as nothing else could. His touch brought so much comfort. Didn't it work that way for him? Couldn't he open up enough to let her try? Just be there? She wiped her face and soapy bubbles stung her eyes. Or so she told herself as tears began to flow. She covered her face with a washcloth until the tears stopped. She released the drain and toweled off. The satin and lace nightgown she'd set out to wear tonight didn't seem right. She grabbed one of Randy's t-shirts from his drawer and pulled it on.
A rumbling from her stomach belied her lack of appetite. She fixed herself a mug of hot chocolate and took the mystery novel she'd been reading to the couch, willing the phone to ring and trying to ignore its impertinent silence. At eleven, she gave up and crawl
ed into bed.
Her inner clock told her she'd been asleep for several hours when she heard the front door open. Eyes closed, she listened to Randy's familiar routine—hanging up his keys and shoulder holster, pulling off his shoes. The sound of the refrigerator door opening and closing. He never played the piano this late, but he might listen to the stereo. No, the bedroom door opened. She heard him in the bathroom, then enter the bedroom, and scrape of the nightstand drawer opening as he placed his gun inside. A sharp intake of breath and a suppressed groan snapped her eyes open. She reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. His left eye was swollen, and there were bruises forming on his torso.
"Randy! What happened? Are you all right?"
He pulled on his boxers, but not before she noticed he was fully aroused. He was breathing heavily now, and he lowered himself to the bed without answering.
"Randy. I'm serious. You're hurt. Tell me."
"I can't."
She sat up and stared at him. "Yes, you can. You can't keep running away from me. I know you're not used to having someone around, but I'm here, and you're not getting rid of me. Talk to me."
"Nothing to say." His voice was rough. "The creep resisted arrest. He took a little convincing, that's all. Go back to sleep."
She reached over and stroked his cheek. "Let me in, Randy. Please. Whatever happened, you shouldn't have to be alone."
"I can't. Not now."
Sarah didn't need to know the details yet. For now, she could offer physical release. She encircled his erection, and he gripped her wrist. "No," he whispered.
"No? But—"
"I want you so much it hurts," he said. "But I don't think… I can't. It's the adrenaline. I'm afraid of…afraid I'll hurt you."
"My God, Randy. I'm not going to break." She leaned into him and pressed her lips against his, forced his lips apart, probed with her tongue. His tongue met hers, and his kisses went from gentle passion to wild frenzy. She reached for his shorts, and he lifted his hips enough to allow her to pull them away. Even as he kicked them off, his hands found her breasts under the T-shirt. His touch triggered a surge of excitement, and she helped him pull the shirt over her head. He covered her body with his. He kissed, he stroked, he squeezed, as if he needed to touch every part of her at once. He nipped at her breasts, and she gasped, but the pain merely heightened her arousal. She met his needs, matched his desire, raking her fingernails along his back, tugging at his hair, scraping her teeth on his neck. She couldn't tell if the guttural sounds came from her throat or his.
Sarah opened herself to him and he entered in a single, powerful thrust. Tonight's lovemaking was feral in its lust. Yet she understood, and took him deeper and deeper until he screamed as he reached his fulfillment. He collapsed on top of her, shuddering. She held him and bore his weight as he gasped for breath.
He withdrew slowly, and rolled onto his back, still panting. Snuggling next to him, she rested her head on his chest, listened to the pounding of his heart. She ran her fingers through the silky hair on his sweat-filmed belly. "You feeling better?"
With a groan, he pulled away and went into the bathroom. When she heard the shower running, Sarah flung herself out of bed. Not this time, buster. He wasn't running away again. She crept into the bathroom and saw Randy, arms extended against the shower tiles as the hot water poured over his head and cascaded down his body. Opening the glass door, she stepped into the steamy enclosure and wrapped her arms around his waist. He flinched, but didn't pull away.
"I'm not leaving," she said.
"Suit yourself, but it's going to get cold." He lowered the water temperature until they were both covered in gooseflesh, and she had to clench her teeth against their chattering, but she wouldn't let go. His breathing slowed, and he turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Wrapping herself in her robe, she followed Randy to the living room. She watched him pour a whiskey, take it to the couch. Saw the trembling in his hands.
She poured a brandy for herself and joined him. "So, it was a rough one?"
"Sarah, please."
"No, Randy. You listen. You can't keep the ugliness away from me. On the job, it's you and Kovak, but when you come through that door, it's you and me. I'm not fragile. Can't you include me? Let me sit with you while you play the piano? Hold your hand? Massage your shoulders? Something? Anything? Please." Her voice started to crack, and she hurried to blurt out the rest. "Don't shut me out. I feel so safe when you hold me. Like nothing can be wrong. Doesn't it work that way for you?"
He gathered her in his arms. "When I hold you, it's like the entire universe gets realigned." He gave a deep sigh. "I'll try to remember. You'll have to remind me when I forget."
"Count on it. Starting tomorrow." She snuggled even tighter. "You going to tell me how you got that shiner? I can't imagine a slimebag really got a clean punch past you."
"Not exactly."
"So, go on."
"Kovak did it," he mumbled.
"What? Your partner punched you? Why?"
Randy muttered something.
"I didn't get that."
"He said I was acting like a jerk, avoiding you, and I told him to mind his own business, and—"
"And he caught you totally off guard, I'm sure."
"Of course he did. I mean, who'd expect his own partner to whack him one?"
"I'll remember that. No more subtlety for me. When I need to get through to you, I'll just hit you upside the head." She rubbed his ear and twisted her fingers through his hair. "I'm going to have to bake Kovak a batch of cookies tomorrow. Chocolate-chocolate chip, I think. But I'll take them directly to his house. No way am I leaving them at the station where you can enjoy them, too."
"That's almost assault on a police officer, you know. I could arrest you for that."
She held out her hands. "You want to handcuff me, Detective?"
"I have a better idea. I think I have some of that control back."
Afterward, she had to agree with him.
* * * * *
A Summer's Eve
an epilogue to Hidden Fire
Copyright © 2010 by Terry Odell
Randy and Sarah are back. Cutbacks in the Pine Hills Police force have increased Randy’s workload, and he’s looking forward to getting some time off to spend with his wife. However, despite all of Randy’s detective skills, Sarah still manages to surprise him, sending their lives down a new path.
* * * * *
For Jason, Jessica & Nicole – you've enriched our lives immeasurably.
With thanks to my crit group, the Pregnant Pigs, and to Sandra, my first mentor, who's been there for me since we played with Duncan and Richie. Thanks for the help, support, and not-so-idle threats. To Jess, for knowing how to put text onto Photoshop images. And of course, to Randy and Sarah—real or not, who refused to go away, even after I'd written them two happily ever afters. I hope they're happy now.
* * * * *
A SUMMER'S EVE
Randy Detweiler eased his pickup into a parking spot by the rec center at Pine Hills Park and checked his watch. Only an hour later than what he'd told Sarah. He gazed at the pink-tinged clouds above the trees. Barely sunset. He locked his truck and strode across the parking lot, the smell of barbeque smoke, grilling hot dogs and burgers telling him he hadn't missed dinner. His stomach rumbled. Two more minutes wouldn't matter. He hustled toward the food tent.
As he worked his way down the buffet line, he surveyed the picnic tables set up on the soccer field. Not as big a crowd as in previous years. Budget cuts, he suspected. Too many good people let go in all departments, or their hours cut so they had to work two jobs. Still, he appreciated the town's efforts to thank its public servants.
He spotted Sarah sitting with Janie Kovak, his partner's wife. They sat, heads together, engrossed in conversation. He scanned the crowd and located his partner, tossing a baseball with his kids.
"Sorry I'm late," Randy said when he approached Sarah and Janie. With admirable restraint
, he restricted his kiss to Sarah's upturned cheek. He set his paper plate heaped with corn, potato salad, baked beans and two burgers on the table beside her. "Group of high school kids thought it would be cool to have an impromptu beer party by the river."
The smile Sarah flashed turned his insides to jelly. And other parts the opposite.
"Not a problem," she said. "Janie has been filling me in on some of your older cases."
"Really?" he said. "And what kind of lies have you been telling my wife?" Wife. Eighteen months now, and he still felt that bong in his chest when he said the word.
"Nothing but good stuff. I swear." Janie held her fingers up in a Scout salute.
"I hope so. You know, one word from me and the chief will have your husband demoted to checking parking meters." He straightened. "I'm going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?"
"I wouldn't mind a beer, as long as you're going," Janie said. She reached for her purse.
Randy waved it away. "My treat. One beer, coming up. Sarah?" He motioned to her half-empty cup. "You want another?"
She shook her head and gave him another smile. "No, thanks. I'm good."
Randy picked up her plastic cup for a quick sip before he left. Halfway to his mouth, he realized there were too many bubbles for it to be beer. He sniffed. Ginger ale. He set the cup down and glanced at the plate in front of her, barely picked at. "You sure? You feeling all right?"
"I'm fine," she said. "Really. A little tired. A beer would put me right out."
He looked at her more carefully. "Getting enough sleep?" He could usually tell if she was keeping something from him. She hated it when she had nightmares and flashbacks to her kidnapping. And hated it more when he tried to coddle her. For now, he'd let it ride.
