by KyAnn Waters
“This is bullshit,” he said to the stillness. But what choice did he have?
After a few minutes, he stood and made his way upstairs. Opening closed doors, he methodically found his way to the spare room. Problem. It was too far from McKenna. Thinking like a detective again, he pulled the mattress from the bed and pushed it down the hall to the master bedroom positioning it against the wall near the French doors.
After he closed the bedroom door, he stretched out on top of the mattress. He slipped off his gun and laid it next to him on the floor where he could find it with his eyes closed. The night was quiet. His body became heavy. And he drifted off to sleep.
At least one suspect lurked in the shadows of the dimly lit parking lot. Dustin squatted beside the passenger door of his patrol car. Focused on the cornered teen suspected of armed robbery, Dustin scanned from the right then to the left. He needed a better position. His partner hunkered down forty feet away behind a metal green dumpster. Communicating with hand signals, his partner gave Dustin the okay to move around the front of a car. Staying close to the vehicle, his gun in hand, he steeled his nerves and moved further from his partner in hopes of flushing out the perp.
Bang! A gunshot echoed, sending chills down Dustin’s spine. He ran in the direction of the blast. “Oh Fuck! Jeezus, Matt!” Blood splattered the green metal dumpster. “Officer down,” he screamed into his radio. And then he heard the second shot.
Dustin sat up. Sweat dripped from his forehead. His breathing slowly returned to normal.
The dream was always the same. McKenna and her cavalier attitude had triggered it tonight. Pulling on his pants, he opened the French doors to get some air.
Dustin heard the unmistakable sound of someone on the stairs. Not McKenna. Whoever was on the stairs was coming up painstakingly slowly. Reaching for his gun, he clutched it in his hand and moved to the door. He listened. Voices, muffled, but he could clearly hear more than one person speaking in low tones. Fuck, too late. They were in the hallway.
Dustin quickly stepped onto the balcony just as someone turned the doorknob to his room. “Not that one,” a male whispered.
Staying close to the house, Dustin moved along the deck. His bare feet didn’t make a sound as he stepped in front of McKenna’s door. He could see her sleeping. Her small frame outlined under a thin summer blanket.
He tried the French door. Locked. Now she decided to be careful. If he tapped on the glass, whoever lurked in the house would surely hear. He moved to the window and couldn’t help but smile. Even though he was going to raise hell, he was glad that she’d left it open about three inches. Punching his thumb through the corner, he tore the screen rather than making a noise trying to remove it. Slowly, he lifted the window at the same time someone tested her doorknob. Thankfully, it too was locked. Showed how much she trusted him. He’d be sensitive about it later.
Why hadn’t the fucking alarm gone off? Because she’d turned it off when she’d come in with her friend.
Dustin came up to her bed and put his hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew open. “Shh.” Removing his hand from her mouth, he put a finger vertically to his lips. They both heard someone trying to force the handle to move. He pointed to the balcony.
McKenna picked up her shorts from the floor. She’d only worn silky panties and a T-shirt to bed. After slipping on her sneakers, she picked up a pair of pink flip-flops, and followed him onto the balcony. “Just shoot them,” she said handing him the thongs.
“What are these for?”
“Your bare feet.”
“Thoughtful of you.” He slipped them on. His toes hung over the top, and his heel off the back, but it was better than nothing. “I don’t know how many there are. I left my cell phone in the kitchen, along with my badge and keys. Where are your keys?” If they could get to the vehicles, he wanted to be sure they could drive them.
“My car is at the bar. Dustin, they’re coming! I’m scared.”
“Nothing like a shot of adrenaline to chase away an alcohol buzz.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sober now.” She could hear the lock being forced open. “How come they don’t break down the door?”
“We’ll ask later. We need to get down from here.” He looked over the edge of the balcony at the ground far below.
“We can jump.” She sounded eager.
Dustin touched his leg. “I can’t. You go. Stay close to the house and then run into the hills.”
Her eyes were wide. “No, we jump together.”
“You don’t understand.” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “I can’t! Now get your ass over the side of this banister. Once you clear the house, run.”
She shook her head. “Not without you.” They heard voices from the room. Any moment they’d be discovered. “You go first or I won’t jump.”
“Do you always have to be difficult?” Dustin tucked his gun into his waistband and swung his leg over the balcony. One spot didn’t look any closer than another. “Ready?” In the shadow of the house, he let go of the railing and dropped to the ground. His feet slipped out of the flip-flop. His thigh couldn’t absorb the impact. His ankle buckled, he grunted in pain and collapsed, holding his leg.
A split second later, McKenna was next to him. “Are you hurt?”
Unable to speak, he nodded. Sharp tremors of pain ricocheted up and down his leg.
“Put your arm around me. Now!” she commanded. He leveraged himself up on his good leg. “Walk.”
Dustin’s leg was useless as he dragged it along. “Over there.” He pointed to a thick grouping of shrubs in the neighbor’s yard. “Leave me here,” he said as she helped him duck under the low overhang of brush.
They both froze. A few feet away they heard whispering. Two men held flashlights. Beams of light dissected the darkness.
“Up there,” one said, shining his flashlight into the wooded area above the house. It had been luck that they ducked into the neighbor’s yard. If McKenna had gone up the mountain, she would already be in their clutches.
Flashlights danced around the foothills. Under the branches of Rose of Sharon and other flowers, Dustin and McKenna burrowed into the ground cover.
Dustin’s thigh burned. He’d known the cost of jumping from the balcony. Three years, and he still had residual pain. When he landed, the pink shoes probably caused more harm than good.
“How’s your leg?” she whispered in the dark. Her head rested on his bare chest. He couldn’t resist touching her hair, covered with leaves and mulch, as it fanned across his skin. She looked up into his face. “Do you know who they are?”
He arched up and pulled his gun from his pants. Twigs and rocks bit into his back. He ignored her first question but answered the second. “One had a thick neck. My guess is a Marino. I don’t know who the other one was.”
The flashlights started moving back down the trails. The beams of light separated, moving to scan the adjacent properties. Dustin hoped the foliage was dense enough to camouflage them from a direct light source. He wrapped his arm around McKenna and held her close. He could feel her heart beating against him. She was trembling. He knew she was scared. Hell, so was he.
“You win this one.” One of the men kicked over a flowerpot on the terrace. “We’ll finish this another day,” he said into the night. “I see why you enjoy your work, Detective. I bet she’s keeping you nice and warm.” The flashlights disappeared around the front of the house.
“What do we do?” she whispered. She shifted into a more comfortable position and Dustin groaned. Her curves fit perfectly to his hard contours. Breasts flattened against his chest. His thigh cut between her legs. Heat from her pussy warmed his flesh.
“We wait. When we’re sure they’re gone, we call for backup.”
Dustin heard a car in the distance. McKenna shifted away from him, and he struggled to his knees. “Come on, let’s go.” He crawled out of the bushes, keeping close to the ground, worming his way toward the street to get a look. “Damn.” He saw the t
aillights disappear around the bend.
McKenna lay on the damp grass beside him. “Can we go into the house?”
He stood, still clutching his gun in his hand and limped to the side of the house. “We listen before we go in. Stay right behind me.”
She put her hand on his hip and followed him as he approached the front door. It stood wide open. They listened. Hearing nothing, Dustin stepped in with his gun extended ready to pull the trigger if anything or anyone moved. They made their way toward the kitchen. His badge and cell phone still lay on the counter.
He punched in Tyson’s number. “Someone came for Mickey,” he said into the phone. “Yeah, we’ll be waiting for you.” He listened again. “No, I’m not calling it in. Not yet.”
“Why not?” she asked when he hung up.
“Whoever those men were, they know that I was here with you. I think you’d agree my badge, the phone, not to mention my clothes are good indicators that I’m invested. If it gets back to Captain Baird, I’ll be off the case.” He limped to the chair and sat down. “My car’s parked in your goddamn garage with a garage door opener clipped to the visor. If I had a house key, if someone didn’t know better, they’d assume I’d moved in.”
“And if you weren’t here, I might be dead.” She went to the pantry closet and retrieved the first aid kit. “Drop your pants before your partner gets here, or we’ll really have some explaining to do.”
“I don’t need a first aid kit, but a shot of something stronger than beer might help.” He rubbed his thigh.
“You’re limping.”
“Old injury. Acts up when I strain it.”
“I want to see.” She put her hands on her hips and stood next to him. “I’ll call an ambulance if you don’t. Now, let me see.”
“Christ, Mickey.” He stood and angrily unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. High up on his thigh was a gruesome, disfigured mass of mutilation and muscle covered by stretched, rubber-like skin.
“What happened?” She bent down to her knees and tenderly touched the discolored scar. Her fingers moved along the deep indentations and hard cartilage. “Dustin?”
Although he liked the view of the top of her head while she was on her knees, he bent down and pulled his pants up. “I got off lucky.” He pulled out a chair for her so she could sit next to him. “I took a bullet in the leg. My partner took one in the head.” He went to the sink. “If you show me how, I’ll make coffee. You probably need it.”
She followed and pushed him out of the way. “Sit and spill it.” She pointed to a chair. “It’s about time I learn something about you.”
Dustin gave in to her command. “I was out on a routine patrol. A call came in, robbery. My partner and I followed the perp into a parking lot. He was just a kid.”
He looked at his thigh. “They took out the bullet, but I got an infection. What can you do? Doc thought I’d lose my leg. Maybe my life. Instead this is a reminder.” He rubbed his thigh. “It was a great year,” he said sarcastically. “Lost my wife. Lost my kid. And because I couldn’t meet the physical requirements, lost my job as a street cop.”
“But now you’re a detective. That’s better, right?”
“Pays more, if that’s what you mean.”
She took three cups from the cupboard. “How does Tyson like his coffee?”
“Cream and sugar.”
She brought the cups to the table. Dustin took a sip. “Marriage agreed with me. Kids, dog, house…I loved it. I didn’t fight Trish on the divorce or for custody of Janie. Making her wait for me to come home in a body bag didn’t seem fair.”
“I never would’ve thought you had a death wish.” She sat and looked at him over the rim of her cup as she sipped.
“No, but some would say I laugh in the face of danger.”
“Getting shot proved you’re not immortal.”
He nodded. “Too bad I didn’t figure that out before I lost everything.”
She put her foot up on the seat of her chair and wrapped her arm around her leg. “Do you still love your wife?”
He started shaking his head before she finished speaking. “Not for a long time now.” He grabbed McKenna’s toe and pulled her leg down. “I’m interested in someone else and you know it.”
Before she could respond, Tyson strode into the house and hollered, “Knock, knock.”
“In here,” Dustin called back, still smiling at McKenna.
Tyson entered the kitchen, carrying a small black suitcase. “You owe me,” he said, placing the case on the table then opening it.
“Coffee?” McKenna held the cup out to him. “Detective Pearce said you like cream and sugar.”
Tyson took the cup. “Damn,” he said after taking a sip. “To hell with Conversations, we’re having coffee here from now on.” He set the cup on the table. “Okay, lay it on me. And if there’re any dirty little secrets, I’ll need those, too.”
“Two men and they didn’t come for a social visit. Clearly their objective was to get McKenna. They knew which bedroom door was hers.” He waved off any response Tyson was about to make. “I couldn’t take chances. If they get to me, they get to her. So we jumped from the balcony.”
“Dustin hurt his leg,” McKenna added.
“I haven’t looked around. But I think I can walk now.” He stood, flinching with pain.
“Wait.” She hurried to the garage and came back with a crutch covered in cobwebs and grime. Grabbing a dishtowel from the drawer, she quickly wiped it off. “Brace yourself with this.” She lodged the crutch under Dustin’s arm. “Better?” She smiled up at him. “I’ll figure out breakfast while you and Tyson look around.”
Dustin hobbled down the hall with Tyson. “Don’t say it,” Dustin said when they were safely out of earshot. “I know I’ve crossed the line.”
“You bet your ass you have.” Tyson’s shoulders were stiff. “You’re jeopardizing the whole investigation!”
“I don’t care.”
Tyson grabbed him by the shoulder and swung him around. “I want it straight, or I’m going to Baird.”
Dustin leaned against the wall. “My truck’s in the garage. By the end of the day I intend to have a house key and the code to the security system.” And next time, he wouldn’t be in the next room but in her bed. Although Tyson didn’t need that piece of information.
Entering the office, Tyson said, “I guess we know what they came for.” The computer was gone.
“They came for Mickey but settled for the computer.”
Together they climbed the stairs. All the doors were open. “I slept in here.” Dustin indicated the mattress on the floor. “When I heard voices in the hall, I went around and broke through her bedroom window. With twenty seconds to make a plan, we jumped.”
Tyson walked out onto the balcony and looked at the fourteen-foot drop. “No wonder you’re limping. You have balls of steel to make that jump with your leg.”
“She wouldn’t jump without me, and I didn’t want another showdown at the O.K. Corral.” They walked into McKenna’s bedroom. Tyson took black dusting powder from his pocket. Starting with the doorknob, he looked for prints.
“Check around. See if anything else looks good for a print.” Dustin left Tyson in the bedroom and wandered through the house until he found himself in the kitchen.
McKenna stood over the stove with a bowl full of batter making buttermilk pancakes.
“This is all I could find.” She held up a box of instant pancake mix.
“They took the computer.”
“Then we’re back to square one.” McKenna set the bowl on the counter.
“We’re better than that. I wanted to talk to you last night, but under the circumstances, I figured I’d wait until you were sober. Tonight we leave for Los Angeles.”
Chapter Twelve
McKenna told Dawn about the break-in while they drove to the Black Jack Saloon to retrieve her car.
“I would have slept with Steven.” McKenna looked out
the passenger side window. “I’m glad I didn’t.”
“Because of Dustin?”
“Yes. But if his captain finds out he’s broken protocol, he’ll be taken off the case. I need him. He’s still the only one who believes I’m innocent.” She smiled. “And you, of course.”
Dawn changed lanes and drove through town with little regard for traffic laws. She rolled through stop signs and treated red lights like four-way stops.
“I’m leaving for Los Angeles with Dustin tonight. And after last night, I’m glad. I don’t think I can stay here. Even if I kept the doors locked and set the alarm, I’m not sure I’d feel safe. And that was one of our mistakes last night. After Steven left, I didn’t reset the system.”
“Are you sure you should go? You don’t really know Dustin.”
“Watch it!” McKenna pointed to a car changing into the lane Dawn occupied.
“Got it.” Dawn glanced out the rear window and crossed three lanes of traffic using a turn lane to pass. “What if he’s playing a game? Remember Albert’s warning.”
McKenna nodded, but only to diffuse Dawn’s concerns.
“Maybe he wants new sleeping arrangements?” Dawn asked.
“I know I do. But it’s more than that. Dustin believes me. Even Tyson is beginning to come around. He was at the house this morning dusting for prints.”
“Damn roadblocks.” Dawn swore as she tried to find a way around two large family minivans traveling side by side.
“And they’re wondering what’s wrong with you. Slow down.”
Dawn finally pulled into the lot where McKenna left her car.
“What’re your plans today?” McKenna took her keys out of her purse. “Because I could use your help.”
Dawn switched stations on the stereo. “I’ll meet you at the house. I need food.”
She slid out of the car. “I’ll pick up something.”
