Hot as Hale (Hale Series Book 3)

by Marie James

  “Calm down. Sugar.” I see him cut his eyes at Kincaid, an unspoken conversation happening in the span of two seconds.

  “What’s the address?” Shadow makes a writing motion with his hand, and from nowhere a pen and piece of paper are provided. He scribbles out an address. “Thanks, Darlin’.” He hangs up the phone, and the smile on his face tells me everything I need to know. There’s been a break in the case.

  He stands from his chair. “That was Misty from Little Elm. She said a little girl just came into the office and told the principal that her parents and another woman had a woman tied up in a closet at the house. Said she’s been there for days.”

  “Holy fuck,” I hear one of the other guys mutter.

  “We have to move,” I hear Kincaid say. “They will notify the police, and we need to be there.”

  “Where is she?” I ask Shadow weakly.

  He reads off the address. “That’s just a mile or so from the fucking school,” I’m devastated that she has been so near this whole time and I failed to find her. I’m shaking uncontrollably in response to my failure.

  I feel a strong hand clasp my shoulder. “You need to calm down, Kaleb. There’s no guarantee that it’s her. People get abducted and held prisoner all the time.” He would know since his business is recovering and rescuing these people.

  On the way out of the house to load up into the Suburban that the guys have leased, I place a phone call to Holt, who’s not surprised that we have the same information that he just received. He reluctantly gives me the rendezvous point where SWAT will converge before they hit the house. He knows if he doesn’t I’m more likely to go in on my own.

  ***

  Half an hour later we’re in an empty lease space three blocks from the location where the little girl said the woman was. After the patrol officer made it to the school, she was able to confirm that the woman locked in the closet is, in fact, Josie and the other woman involved with her parents is Trina Gilbert.

  I’m twitchy and having a hard time not running the few blocks and busting the door down alone. The SWAT team is all geared up, and in any other situation I’d think that there were too many guys there for this type of job, but it’s Josie, and I honestly think we don’t have enough.

  Kincaid has to practically hold me back as the team goes over the floor plans and schematics for the little house, planning their point of entry. I’m told I have to stay in this empty office space until the house has been cleared. It will be absolute torture, but I’m not willing to do anything to compromise Josie’s safety.

  I fidget with the hem of my t-shirt and pace around the dank office space as the dozen or so SWAT guys and Holt file out of the building and load up. Kincaid and one other of his crew are allowed to tag along but will not be able to make entry with the team. I’m ecstatic he has been allowed this consideration at all.

  I’m left in the building with a tech team on computers, and I stand behind them as the live feed activates. There are four camera shots from different members of the team and their body cameras. I can hear them softly going over and over the plan again as they drive towards the house.

  The empty office space is filled with the sounds of muffled voices and shifting clothing. I see the battering ram being pulled back and slammed into the door. The team with the ram takes a step back, and the others begin to file into the filthy house.

  “Weapon!” shouts one of the leading SWAT members.

  The sound of the first gun discharge has me moving towards the door. No fucking way can I stand in here while this shit is going down.

  “Detective!” One of the tech guys calls out just as I push open the glass door to the office space. I’d like to see one of those desk-bound pseudo-officers try to stop me!

  I’m sprinting towards the location because Kincaid and his guys took the Suburban. I don’t think I’ve ever run as fast in my life.

  By the time I make it to the house the SWAT team is filing out of the front door. Each one with their heads bowed and somber looks on their faces.

  “Four deceased inside,” I hear someone say into the radio. “Officer involved shooting. The Eight Wonders need to be notified.” He’s referring to the eight figureheads that have to be called out every time an officer discharges his weapon.

  What he says next stops me cold. “The four? Three suspects and an unidentified female.”

  We were too late. I nearly collapse to ground as the information hits my brain. It’s not possible. There is no way God would have given her to me, to only rip her way in a matter of weeks.

  I stumble up the three crumbling concrete steps and into the home. The smell hits first. Death and blood. Two females and one male are in various haphazard positions in the front living area, riddled with bullets holes. Various knives and one shotgun near them.

  I hear muffled voices and make my way down a poorly lit hallway towards the noise, passing a room with several officers gathered. I almost vomit when my gaze shifts to the floor where a dirty mattress is positioned. There is no other furniture in the small, foul-smelling room.

  “Two? Three days? Maybe.” One of the SWAT guys says drawing my attention to what they are looking at. From my position in the doorway, the only thing I can see is the gray skin of a leg of an apparently deceased woman. A sob escapes my throat, and the three officers turn toward me.

  “Fuck.” I hear one of the mutter.

  They all move to come towards me, an attempt to keep from seeing the rest of what’s on the bed. Tears are rolling down my face, my sobs becoming uncontrollable. I feel a strong arm wrap around my shoulder from behind.

  “Kaleb.” Kincaid is standing against my back, his voice calm in my ear. “She’s asking for you, man.”

  My head whips around to face him so fast I nearly lose my footing. A quick glance back towards the mattress that is now unobstructed since the other officers shifted their positions reveals the body of a middle-aged woman with jet black hair. Not the beautiful golden hair of Josie.

  “What?” I ask shaking my head, overwhelmed by the entire situation.

  “Josie, man,” he says turning and tugging me further down the hall. “Keep your shit together in there, Kaleb. She’s been through hell and looks it, but you have to keep it together, man.”

  I nod to him as I cross the threshold into the kitchen. On a ratty blanket just outside of a very small closet on the far wall is my Mariposa. I push my way through the swarm of officers to get to her.

  My eyes appraise each and every inch of her body. Her eyes are squinted nearly shut. Her face is slightly sunken, and her lips are horribly dried and cracking. She’s lying on her side with her arms tied behind her back. Her legs are tied together with several layers of rope at her ankles and just above her knees. The rope is disgustingly filthy which tells me she’s soiled herself while tied, but that also means they haven’t been taking the rope off, which decreases the probability that she’s been raped. Just the thought makes me want to head back to the front of the house and kill those motherfuckers again.

  “Medics are on the way,” I hear someone say.

  I push the last person in my way to the right and barely register the grunt he makes as he has to redistribute his weight to keep from crashing to the floor. He shifts himself further out of the way. I crouch down beside her and hold her head. She turns her head and begins sobbing when she realizes I’m here.

  “Kaleb,” she whispers with a hoarse voice.

  “I’m here, Josie.” I kiss her forehead and then hold mine to hers. I want nothing more than to scoop her up in my arms, but I know it will hurt her.

  I watch as one of the officers cuts the rope free from her ankles and knees. I’m not prepared for the blood-curdling scream when the rope binding her arms behind her back is cut loose.

  Chapter 35

  Josie

  I would’ve never guessed that heaven was so loud. I’ve accepted my fate and made peace with my demise. My only regret is that I didn’t get to love Kaleb for
longer. I close my eyes and picture his handsome face and the shining green of his eyes.

  “I’ll love you always,” I whisper just as my eyes focus on the light that’s arrived to lead me to my salvation. The small trickle of light becomes a wide-open gaping hole, and I’m forced to crush my eyes closed, avoiding the pain shooting in my head from the intrusive beams.

  “Holy fuck!” I hear a booming voice say. Who would’ve thought Saint Peter would have such a filthy mouth?

  “Josie? Joselyne Bennett?” The voice is calmer now.

  “Yes,” I mutter with a gasp, my eyes still clamped shut.

  “Girl, we’ve been looking for your ass everywhere!” Saint Peter says which is even odder than his predilection for profanity.

  “Jesus didn’t know I was in the closet?” I hear his booming laugh and surprisingly find it comforting.

  “You being here is a miracle, darling, but this ain’t heaven. My name is Diego Anderson, and I have a cousin that’s going to be beside himself knowing we found you.” I force my eyes to open a fraction of an inch. A very large shadow is looming over me, backlit with blinding white light.

  “Kaleb,” is all I’m able to mutter. My throat is on fire, and my head is reeling. It seems the second I gave up on life is the exact time I’m rescued. I mentally slap myself for even allowing the idea that I should have given up soon enter my head because I know if I had then the outcome would be much different.

  The shadow moves and another one take its place. “Let’s get you out of this closet, Ms. Bennett.”

  I repeatedly whimper but do my best not to cry as strong hands lift me out of the cramped closet and lay me on a blanket. I inhale deeply and nearly vomit; the rancid smell of what couldn’t be described other than death hits me. God is that me? Do I smell like Death?

  I have to force myself to stay awake when large hands nestle my face. The putrid odor of Death is suddenly masked by a smell I know all too well. I begin to sob uncontrollably. My eyes burn with the effort as I have no ability to produce tears.

  “Kaleb,” I whisper softly, the catch in my voice apparent even to me.

  “I’m here, Josie,” he says softly.

  I can feel the bindings on my legs being pulled away, and the burn is almost unbearable, but an angel is kissing my forehead and cradling my head like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever held. Suddenly and without warning, a blinding pain crushes my shoulders and arms, and even my gut-wrenching screams don’t keep the darkness from taking over.

  ***

  I groan as I feel the lower part of my body shift. It doesn’t really hurt, but I’d rather be left alone to sleep. I’m so tired, exhausted actually. Whoever is flexing my legs in and out has warm hands, but the air in the room is frigid.

  “Stop,” I mumble.

  “Just a few more,” a soft voice that I don’t recognize says.

  She’s true to her word. After a few more flexes of my right leg, she gently rests it back down and pulls a blanket back over it. Several moments pass, and I’m able to settle back into comfort. Swallowing, I realize my throat is sore and feels obstructed. Maybe it will be better after my nap. I drift back to sleep.

  ***

  Rhythmic beeping is the next thing that interrupts my nap. I move my head back and forth, but the incessant sound just won’t stop. I don’t understand why it’s too much to ask to just be left alone to get some rest.

  “Shhh,” I tell it, but it doesn’t listen.

  I hear a very deep, baritone chuckle. I hold my breath in hopes to hear that noise again, but all I hear is the continued cadence of the beep.

  “Hush,” I tell the beeping, so I can focus on finding the glorious laugh once again.

  I feel a light brush against my cheek, and I turn my face toward it. The gentle caress lulls me back to sleep.

  ***

  The low rumblings of conversation gain traction in my mind forcing me into consciousness. I want to be annoyed, but I’m certain the rambling going on around me is the voices of the people I love most.

  I turn my head toward the heat along my right side; it’s comforting, and I’m in desperate need of comfort.

  My eyes burn horrendously as I try to open them, but as much as I want to keep them closed, I don’t want to miss the chance to see where the voices are coming from.

  “Hey,” says a familiar female voice and I feel someone grip my hand.

  “Hey,” I mutter back as I try to focus on her. “Lor?” My throat is killing me, and I can’t get past the sensation that something is lodged in my throat. Even my feeble attempt to clear my throat doesn’t dislodge the obstruction.

  “Water,” I whisper as I reach my hand up to my face.

  A gentle but firm hand stops it. “We can do ice chips, but you can’t drink right now,” Lorali says.

  “My throat hurts,” my voice is pleading.

  “You have a feeding tube in, Josie. You can’t drink until the doctor gives you the okay.” I feel blissful cold sweep across my lips, and I reach my tongue out to lick the small piece of ice. Heaven.

  My eyes are gritty and feel like they’re on fire, but the sight of my beautiful sister beside me melts my heart. I never thought I’d see her again, hold her hand, or hear her soft voice. She strokes my hair and tells me everything is going to be ok.

  “How long?” I ask.

  “You were gone for sixteen days,” she begins to sob, and I can tell she’s doing her best to stay strong for me.

  “Here?” I ask as my own emotions bubble out of my throat. The first thing I notice is the warm rivulets of tears as they stream down my face. I would’ve never guessed how happy I would be knowing water could flow out of me again.

  She clears her throat and wipes at her eyes with her free hand. “You’ve been here for three days.”

  I feel the bed shift as she sits beside me. I wince as the pull of the hospital johnny I’m wearing rubs against the sore skin on my hip.

  “Sorry,” she says as she jumps up from the bed.

  “I’m ok. My legs are sore.” I release her hand and begin to gently tug the blankets away. I almost break down at the sight of my legs. They’re covered in red blotches, and some areas are open wounds; it looks like my skin was just rubbed off.

  Lorali grips the blanket and delicately lays it back over my skin. “The doctor says it looks worse than it is. They treat it every day, and he says you probably won’t even scar.”

  Looking down at my hands I’ve just now noticed they are both wrapped in gauze. “My wrists?” How many injuries do I have?

  “Your hands were tied. The rope cut into your skin pretty bad.” She settles back into the chair beside the bed.

  I reach for, and she clasps my hands again. “I’m sore all over,” I admit.

  “Ian hired a physical therapist. She’s been coming twice a day to work out the muscles in your arms and legs,” she explains, and I vaguely recall someone messing with my legs.

  “Where’s Kaleb?”

  Her smile is contagious. “Ian commandeered the room next door and brought beds in for people to rest. He’s next door probably grumbling about being forced out of here. Mom and Dad are over there as well. Who would you like to see first?”

  “Kaleb,” I answer with a second of hesitation.

  She leans in and kisses my cheek before exiting the room. I close my eyes as I wait for him to arrive.

  A gentle hand sweeps down my cheek, and I realize that I’d dozed off again. Opening my eyes this time was loads less painful.

  Kaleb’s beautiful face and magnificent green eyes are mere inches from mine. He’s so close I can feel the soft gusts of his breath on my face. The tears begin to fall immediately.

  “Baby,” I whisper. I sweep my eyes over every inch of the face I never thought I’d see again. His hair is much longer than the quarter of an inch I’m used to seeing on him, and his face is covered with a full beard. “You need to shave,” I tell him hoarsely, at a loss for words on any other level.
/>   He chuckles and continues to sweep his thumb over my cheek. His usually shamrock green eyes seem lighter, and they shimmer just before a tear rolls down his cheek.

  I reach up and touch the path the tear left behind.

  “I love you,” I whisper, knowing I can’t wait another second without telling him. Not when I’ve been given a second chance to do so.

  “Fuck,” he pants against my mouth just before he kisses my lips ever so softly. “I love you, too.”

  He rests his forehead against mine, and we cry together, our tears mixing and running down my cheeks. “I thought I’d never see you again, Mariposa. I’ve missed you so much.”

  “Shhh, baby. I’m here now.” I reassure him as best I can, but I’m feeling exactly the same way, with shame mixed in because I gave up on us and gave into the darkness.

  “Don’t ever leave me again,” he pleads.

  “Never,” I whisper and kiss his soft lips.

  Chapter 36

  Kaleb

  We get less than ten minutes together before the room is descended upon by the entire group of people that have been standing vigil over Josie’s bed. The room gets rather cramped once Ian, Lorali, and her parents all file in. I’m grateful to an extent that Garrett and Alexa ran home to grab showers and a nap.

  The reunion is utter chaos with everyone talking at one time, and I know Josie has to be overwhelmed, but the smile has never left her face as Lorali and her parents talk to her with animation. They are trying to keep things cheery by telling her how her kids from school insisted on making Get Well Soon cards for her even though they are on summer break.

  She seems content now, but I know more darkness is coming. The whimpers in her sleep since she’s been here are a clear indication of the pain and trauma she’s suffered. The hospital psychologist has been by and explained that we need to give her room and allow the story to come out at a speed that she sees fit. She promises to come back by to make arrangements for therapy once she’s awake.

  I haven’t left her side, and she hasn’t released my hand. Her mother has been nothing but nice to me, but her father is a different story. He’s not been openly rude or disrespectful, but he’s very closed off to me. I can sense the disappointment he has in me. Any other time I’d say something about it, but the disgust he has towards me at not protecting his daughter is nothing compared with the anguish I’m suffering already.