by Aimée Thurlo
They climbed out to look, standing in the dim glow of the streetlight. When it appeared that she intended on moving closer, he grabbed her arm. “Better stay on the pavement. We have to preserve evidence, like those shoe prints in the soft sand. This wasn’t an ordinary carjacking.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Your car…isn’t new,” he said after a beat. “There’s no market for it, intact or stripped for parts.”
She gave him a weak smile. “Translation—it was a rolling wreck even before I got forced into the ditch.”
As a chill wind whipped past her, she shuddered. “My coat’s on the ground near the passenger side. I slipped out of it when they first tried to grab me. Can I go get it if I watch where I step?”
“Better not. That’s evidence. If they handled it there’s no telling what they left behind for the lab techs,” he said, then took off his leather jacket and placed it over her shoulders.
“Now you’ll be cold,” she said, feeling the warmth of his jacket envelope her.
“I’m wearing a wool sweater. I’m fine.”
Sirens rose in the distance, and soon two police units pulled up, emergency lights flashing. A patrolman emerged from the nearest cruiser, and a second later a plainclothes officer with a badge clipped to his belt came out of the unmarked vehicle.
Recognizing Detective Harry Koval, Nick tried not to scowl. Koval and he had a history—and it wasn’t a good one. They’d worked as partners for about six months, right after Nick made detective, but Koval’s strictly by-the-book, compulsive methods had nearly driven Nick out of his mind. Police work wasn’t an exact science, yet Koval did everything lockstep without even a trace of insight or initiative.
“I’m Detective Koval,” Harry told Drew, then gave Nick a cold stare. “You were here when it went down, Detective, so fill me in.”
Nick stepped aside with Koval and gave him the highlights. “The only other thing I can tell you is obvious. Considering the wreck she was driving, it definitely wasn’t a carjacking.”
“Probably not,” Koval conceded, looking at the car. “She’s young and attractive, and that makes her a different kind of target. Predators are always out there. So what do you think—attempted abduction?”
“Could be. But the fact that there were two perps doesn’t fit the most common profile. Rapists usually act alone.”
As Nick watched her, he saw Drew cross her arms and press them tightly around herself, seeking warmth, or maybe comfort. Her vulnerability tugged at him and he felt a sudden surge of protectiveness he hadn’t expected.
“You still with me, Blacksheep?”
Nick focused, nodding. “Let’s go talk to the victim.”
Koval spoke first, and, after announcing that he would be investigating the incident, got right down to it. “Describe the men who came after you.”
“They were a little shorter than you are,” Drew said. “The taller was maybe five-ten, the other a few inches shorter than that. They had on dark jeans and dark blue or black sweatshirts with hoods they’d pulled over their heads. I couldn’t see their faces. It was too dark,” she said. “That’s part of what made things even scarier,” she added, in a whisper-thin voice.
“But the extra adrenalin gave you the edge you needed,” Nick said.
Koval glared at him, then continued. “Would you say the men were on the thin side, or maybe the opposite, a little chunky?”
She considered it before answering. “They weren’t over-weight, or overly skinny either. Just average, I guess.”
“Any idea why they targeted you?” Koval pressed.
She shook her head. “It must have been random. I never noticed anyone following me, and I don’t have any enemies,” she said, despite the skepticism on Koval’s face.
FOR THE NEXT TEN MINUTES, Drew gave them her version of the kidnapping attempt, and it coincided almost perfectly with what Nick had reported.
“Has anyone shown any special interest in you lately—maybe at work, or at the grocery store or in your neighborhood?” Koval asked. “Anywhere?”
Nick saw her struggle with all the raw emotions that were crashing around inside her head, and wished he could do more to help. Then he saw the flicker that swept over her features, and he knew Koval had been right to press her.
“Something odd did happen to me a few days ago. I was at the Westside Mall and a man kept following me. He didn’t try to talk to me or anything, but it got a little creepy. After a while I went to find a security guard, but when I went to point out the guy, he was gone. I figured that it had probably been some poor guy shopping with his wife and he’d just happened to be wandering in my direction. I’m not the only woman who shops for special shoes.”
Thinking she meant orthopedic wear, or something of that nature, Nick automatically glanced down. As he saw what she was wearing, he bit back a smile. They wouldn’t go under a handicap header—but, dang, it took guts to wear those. Her sneakers had bright pink polka dots and glow-in-the-dark shoelaces.
“What did the mall guy look like?” Harry asked, his focus strictly on business.
“He was around five foot seven, or maybe eight, brown hair cut short. But that’s all I remember. I never looked directly at the guy because I didn’t want to encourage him.”
“But you haven’t seen the subject since?” Koval said, bringing her back on track.
“No. I lead a quiet life, Detective. My uncle’s the former chief of police, Earl Simmons,” she said. “The troublemakers in town know that, too, and generally avoid me.”
“Until now,” Koval said.
Nick hadn’t made the family connection until that moment, but that explained a few things, like her skill in removing the safety lock on a weapon and her ease in feeding a shell into the chamber of his short-barreled shotgun.
“Lately, I’ve been working very long hours,” Drew said.
Koval nodded. “I know. Right now, you’re training to take over for our records clerk, who’s about to go on an extended leave of absence. You and Beth know each other, so I imagine that gave you the inside track.”
“No, sir,” she snapped. “I got the job on my own merit. In addition to my degree, I have three IT courses under my belt. I was the most qualified person available.”
Koval gave her one of his famous stares. They’d been known to intimidate all but the most hardened of criminals, but Drew met his gaze with an unflinching one of her own, and held it.
Nick had trouble biting back a grin. He liked this woman more with each passing second.
“I want you to come down to the station and look through our photo arrays. See if anyone there looks like your mall stalker,” Koval said.
“Right now?” she asked, then pointed to her damaged car.
“Perhaps Detective Blacksheep can give you a ride,” Koval said, and glanced at Nick, who nodded.
“Before I go, I’d like to get my purse. It’s still on the front seat,” Drew said. “No one touched it, or even got near it, except me.”
“Your sedan’s part of the crime scene, so it’ll be towed in as evidence. But one of our officers can retrieve your handbag for you,” Koval said.
They waited as Koval spoke to a member of the crime scene team. The tech then walked over to her car and brought out her big tote. The stubby, barrel-chested man carried her purse like a grocery bag instead of by the handles, and handed it to her without comment.
“Thank you,” Drew said.
The man nodded, obviously glad to have it out of his hands.
Drew walked with Nick back to his Jeep. She’d never been the kind to be overly affected by a guy’s looks, yet there was something about Nick that made her a little crazy inside. Maybe it was that cold, hard gaze that softened, and even warmed, when he looked at her, or that rugged masculinity that assured her she was safe by his side.
She shook her head, trying to unscramble her thinking. She was confusing feelings of relief and gratitude with…something else. Or maybe
she was simply trying to distract herself from the horrible incident she’d lived through. She’d never been impressed by macho men, and after a lifetime of living with cops, she definitely didn’t date them.
Stopping by the outer edge of the yellow crime-scene tape strung around the perimeter, Drew glanced back at her car. “Do you think anyone would mind if I also took the book bag in the backseat? The two who came after me never touched that either.”
“What’s so important about those books?” he asked.
“They’re reference manuals that belong to the police department, and I don’t want to leave them in the impound lot. Without those, I can’t complete my training.”
“Let me consult the crime-scene team leader.” Moments later, Nick returned holding a heavy nylon backpack and handed it to her. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” She slung the straps over her shoulder and once again fell into step beside him.
They soon reached his Jeep and got on the road. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shudder. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not. I’m scared. I still don’t know if I was a target of opportunity or their intended victim. I also don’t know when—or if—they’ll come back and try again,” she said, her voice rising an octave.
“You really don’t have anything to worry about. Your uncle has a lot of clout with our department, and I’m pretty sure that he’ll insist the new chief provide you with protection until we know more about what happened tonight. The fact that you’re Earl Simmons’s niece puts an entirely new spin on things. What happened to you tonight may be linked to him and something he did as a police officer years ago. Revenge can simmer for a long time.”
“But logically, if they wanted to get at my uncle, wouldn’t they have gone after my aunt instead of me?”
“Maybe you were more available. Or it could have all been just a matter of timing.”
Drew considered it, then shook her head. “Your answer doesn’t feel right to me.”
“It doesn’t—what?”
“Call it intuition if you want, but I trust my instincts. They’ve always been reliable.”
He wasn’t a big believer in instincts—a woman’s or a man’s—but sometimes what people attributed to instinct was nothing more than the product of subconscious observations. “So what do those vibes tell you now?”
“That my troubles are just beginning,” she whispered.
“Evil is never easy to face down, but you’re doing just fine. Those men are nursing some bad bruises by now. Not bad for a librarian,” he said, with an easy smile.
Chapter Three
While Drew looked through the mug shots, Nick reported to Chief Franklin’s office. Captain Wright, Nick’s immediate supervisor, was already there.
“I got an earful from Earl Simmons,” Chief Franklin said, muttering an oath. “He still monitors police calls and knew what went down minutes after it happened. He doesn’t seem to get the fact that he’s not police chief anymore. If that bullet hadn’t put him on the disabled list, there’s no way that man would have retired.”
“What can you tell us about tonight’s incident, Nick?” Wright asked.
Nick gave them the facts, then added a couple of his own theories regarding possible motives. “Koval’s just getting started with the investigation, but he’s like a pit bull when it comes to cracking a case. He won’t back off until he’s got the answers he needs.”
“All right then, let’s get back to the original reason you were coming in tonight—your hearing,” Chief Franklin said. “The rep from the officer’s association is waiting for us in the conference room, and so’s the civilian lodging the complaint—Ray Owens. He’s threatening to sue the department and you personally.”
“I stand behind my actions. They were entirely within department guidelines. I’ve done nothing wrong,” Nick said.
“All right. Let’s get to it then.” Chief Franklin led the way out of his office and down the hall.
When Captain Wright paused at one of the rooms to speak to another officer on duty, Nick slowed his pace. He didn’t want to go into the conference room until everyone was there.
As he waited, Owens came up, blocking his way.
“Say goodbye to your career, hotshot. By the time I’m through with you, you’ll be lucky to get a job mopping the restrooms,” he said, his voice loud enough for only Nick to hear.
“Get out of my face,” Nick growled.
“And if I don’t, then what? You’ll take a swing? Go ahead. We’ve got a roomful of witnesses,” he said, jabbing Nick in the chest with his fingertip.
Nick grabbed Owens’s index finger and bent it back enough for the man’s eyes to water.
Owens staggered back, bumping into the doorjamb, and looked around quickly for a witness, but it was fruitless. Everyone was pretending to be looking elsewhere—except for a man in an expensive business suit. Nick guessed he was the wife beater’s attorney. His word wouldn’t carry very far in this gathering.
Drew, who’d come down the hall along with her uncle, stood back as former chief Earl Simmons stepped up. Giving Owens a look of pure contempt, he glanced over at Nick. “I caught all that, if you need a witness, Detective Blacksheep.”
Owens glared at Earl.
“Let’s just get this over with, Ray,” Della Owens said, interrupting the face-off by taking her husband’s arm and leading him into the conference room.
Nick glanced back at Drew before going into the room. She smiled and gave him an encouraging thumbs-up, signaling him that she’d also seen enough to know the truth.
DREW TOOK A SEAT IN THE staff office, her uncle Earl on one side, Beth Michaels on the other. Beth had been at the station when she’d heard about the attempted kidnaping, and had decided to stay, knowing Drew would be coming in. Beth had custody of the photo arrays—the mug files—mostly computer images these days.
“Ray Owens is an idiot,” Beth said. “Even if Della refuses to defend herself, as an officer of the law, Nick had to step in.”
“So what happens now?” Drew asked, watching the officer on duty confronting the reporters in the front lobby.
“Chief Franklin will do what’s right for the department, but Owens has a lot of pull in this town, and the best friends money can buy. He and I have had our own run-ins. I still say the reason he beat my firm out of a construction contract with the state was because he had inside information.”
Earl looked directly at his niece. “Right now, you’ve got other, more immediate problems. You have to move back in with Minnie and me until we know it’s safe for you to be on your own.”
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I can’t bring that danger home to you and Aunt Minnie.”
“I can protect you both,” Earl said, his expression hard, his voice flat.
Though he wasn’t the department’s chief anymore, that take-charge attitude still clung to him. Giving orders came as naturally to him as it had to her dad. She thought back to the days when her father had been alive. She’d always followed his orders. He wouldn’t have had it any other way. Then, after her parents’ death, she’d gone to live with her uncle, who’d also ruled his home imperiously and absolutely. But she was an adult now, and would decide which course was right for her. Uncle Earl missed police work and wanted to be part of the fight, but she wouldn’t expose her aunt to the dangers she was facing.
Other officers soon came into the common area, often labeled the bullpen, and Drew’s uncle walked away to talk to old friends.
Hearing loud voices coming from the conference room, Beth glanced over at the closed door. “I will never understand why Della puts up with that creep.”
“All Nick did was defend the victim of an abusive husband. How did that ever get turned into a charge of police harassment?” Drew asked.
“Della changed her story. She’s now saying that she fell down. Without her testimony, and no witnesses to what actually happened, at least inside their residence, Nick’s t
he fall guy.”
“Owens is purposely trying to put the department on the defensive, hoping to distort the truth,” Drew said.
“Exactly. Since that’s the umpteenth call our officers have answered at Owens’s house, Ray’s only way out these days is to claim police harassment. But everyone knows the truth, so the only option Owens really has is to cut a deal of some kind.”
The door to the conference room opened and Nick came out alone.
Earl Simmons went to meet Nick just as Owens and his wife came out. With Ray in the lead, the pair hurried toward the exit. Della’s head remained down and she avoided eye contact with anyone.
Chief Franklin stepped out of the room next, and joined Nick. “You’re reinstated, Detective Blacksheep,” he said. “Pick up your service weapon and badge from the duty officer and get the MDT back in your vehicle,” he said, meaning the mobile dispatch terminal computer officers carried.
“How’s this really going down on paper?” Nick asked the chief.
“Mr. Owens will probably never admit spousal abuse, but he’s dropped his charges against you and the department and has agreed to enter anger management and couples counseling. It’s a win all around,” he said.
“I’m glad that you convinced your old friend to see reason,” Earl said to Franklin. Though he’d deliberately kept his tone casual, the point had been made. “But you’ve still got another problem—me. My niece needs police protection.”
Chief Franklin crossed his arms across his chest. “You’re assuming they’ll go after her again, Earl, and there’s no proof of that. I’m not sure I can spare any of my officers on speculation alone.”
“You didn’t have a manpower problem when you put your best detective on suspension,” Earl said, cocking his head toward Nick. “That suggests you can spare him again.”
