She smiled at the memory and Derick knew that he was going to like whatever she said next.
“He worked late one night. So, I snuck out the back door, dressed all in black. I’d found my wallet in his safe and had it in my pocket. I ran. I just…walked out the back door and ran. I didn’t stop until I came to a bus stop, and jumped onto the bus. I’d hidden my hair under a knit cap and had big sunglasses. It wasn’t much of a disguise. But the extra clothes I’d put on underneath the big shirt helped. He was looking for a thin woman and I looked like I was more than forty pounds overweight.”
Derick didn’t laugh. He was still too furious and horrified by what she’d gone through.
“I eventually found a construction firm that hired me and paid me cash under the table. I also learned a lot of good skills.” She smiled, shaking her head. “The boss of the crew was totally unethical, cheating me out of several hours of pay. But he taught me a lot. He taught me how to build a house and how to tear one down. How to use tools and I also slept in the houses we were building. They made excellent hiding places.” She sighed and looked away. “He’s also the guy who helped me find someone to make my fake ID. That helped a lot. I bought a car with those credentials. And transferred all of my money from my bank to a new bank account. Thankfully, John hadn’t emptied my accounts. He was still waiting for me to marry him so that he could take control of my money.”
“You bought a house, fixed it up, and sold it.”
She grinned weakly at his accurate assumption. “Yep. I made a huge profit on that house. It was just pure dumb luck. I’d stupidly bought a house that was on the edge of a gentrification project. I made about fifty thousand dollars on that one.”
He whistled, but remained silent. “The next house was a bit more adventurous. It took me longer to renovate it.” She shuddered. “It was also the place where John almost found me.” She looked down at her fingers, her nails completely torn and ragged from the hard work. “I learned from that lesson. Lost a lot of money too since I wasn’t able to finish the house. I sold it for less than I’d paid for it. But I got away. The next three houses I made sure were fast and easy. I fixed them up in less than six months and moved on.”
“You were going to do the same thing here, weren’t you?”
She nodded silently.
“And leave me?”
She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with tears. “I wasn’t counting on you, Derick.”
His hands tightened around her waist. “Now what?”
She sighed, closing her eyes. “I have to go,” she told him. “I won’t put you in danger.”
He stared at her for a long moment. Then she heard a strange rumbling coming from his chest. Laughter? At a moment like this? Was he seriously laughing?
Yes. He threw back his head, laughing outrageously at her statement, shaking his head. When he’d regained control, he opened his mouth to say something but shook his head and kissed her gently. “Honey, I think you need to get to know me a bit better. But first, we’re going to the police station.”
“No!” she gasped.
Derick cocked a dark eyebrow. “No? Why not?”
“They won’t do anything about John. They won’t believe me.”
He shook his head. “I know the local sheriff. Trust me, he’ll believe you.”
Carrie took his arm, pulling his hand away from the steering wheel. “Derick, I just…” she paused.
Derick understood and leaned forward, kissing her tenderly. It wasn’t a sexual kiss. This was a kiss of promise. When he lifted his head, he cupped her chin and looked into her eyes. “It’s not just the sheriff, honey. It’s also my team. Abby and Lexie suspected what had happened to you. My boss, General Kelley, has already ordered you to be protected.”
“No!” she gasped. “You don’t understand! John, he knows things! He knows how to get around people who are looking for him! It’s too dangerous.”
He chuckled again. “Jo…Carrie, I’m a U.S. Army Delta Force team member.” He waited for his words to sink in. “I’m special forces. Finding people, eliminating threats…that’s what we do. That’s my job. It’s what I train for.” He leaned forward and gave her another hard kiss. “It’s what I live for.”
She felt a rush of…hope?
“Fine!” she replied finally. “But if I’m talking to the sheriff, then I need to get something back at my house.”
He shook his head. “You’re not going back there. Not until this threat is gone.”
She smiled up at him, her heart melting for this big, wonderful man. “I appreciate that. But in order to convince the sheriff, I need an envelope. It’s in my bedroom in a duffel bag in the corner.”
Derick lifted his phone up and dialed a number, telling whoever answered about the envelope. “Yep. If you can get that and meet us at the sheriff’s office, that would be a big help.”
The other person must have agreed, because Derick ended the call with a nod, then slid the phone back into his pocket and started up the engine. “We’re set. We’ll meet Mike at the sheriff’s office. He’ll be there only a few minutes after us.”
Fifteen minutes later, Derick walked into the sheriff’s office, a hand on Carrie’s back. She wasn’t sure if he was offering support or comfort. Probably both.
“Hey Richard,” Derick called out. “I need your help with something,” he said to the sheriff who was standing next to someone’s desk.
“Sure,” the guy replied. “Come on back to my office.”
Derick went through the security door and they wove through the desks toward the back of the building.
Richard held the door for both of them, but when they were in his office, he closed the door. “I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit.”
Derick shook his head. “Not social. And Mike is on his way with something, not sure what. But Carrie needs your help.”
The sheriff sat down behind his desk, folded his hands, and looked at her. “What’s the problem?”
Carrie took a breath and, slowly, started to explain. Step by humiliating step, she explained what John had done to her. Right up to the point where she’d seen the daisies on her front porch this morning.
“I have no idea how he found me, but I know he’s here.”
The sheriff didn’t react until the end of her story. Slowly, he sat back in his chair, and sighed. “That’s a pretty bad story. Unfortunately, I can get the guy for trespassing, but I’m not sure a judge would do anything. So far, he hasn’t violated any laws.”
At that point, there was a knock on the door. Derick glanced at the sheriff. “That’s probably Mike.”
“Come on in!” the sheriff called out.
The door opened and Carrie’s eyes widened as a stranger, this one almost as big as Derick, stepped into the office. “Derick asked me to bring this to you,” he said softly. But instead of leaving, the big guy handed her the envelope, then stepped back, crossing his arms over his chest and waited.
Carrie’s fingers trembled as she took the envelope. “I carry these as…” she paused. Taking another breath, she shook her head as she handed the envelope to the sheriff. “Well, take a look. Will these help convince the judge to…?”
“What is it?” Richard asked, taking the envelope, which was obviously well worn and wrinkled. He lifted the flap and peeked inside before pulling out the pictures. “Dear God!” he breathed.
Mike’s arms dropped and he moved over to look at the pictures. Derick stood as well, moving around to the other side of the sheriff’s desk. “Holy Mother…!” Mike hissed. He looked at the pictures, then at Carrie and back again. “Tell me that’s not you,” he said.
Carrie nodded, lowering her lashes. “Yes. That’s me.”
“He did this to you?” Derick demanded, staring at her, his voice was low and soft. Then he came around to kneel in front of her, taking her hands. “Honey, did he really do that to you?”
The pictures showed a woman whose eyes were swollen shut and her jaw
was clearly broken. In fact, her entire face was purple from that beating. Her arm was broken and both legs, plus several ribs which couldn’t be seen on the photo because of the hospital gown. But it was all documented in the medical report that was also in the envelope.
“Why is this guy not in prison for attempted murder?” the sheriff demanded. “No judge would let something like this slide!”
Carrie pulled one hand from Derick’s reassuring grasp, wiping an errant tear away. “He’s a police officer. A detective, actually.”
There was a stunned silence. All three men stared at Carrie, then back at the pictures.
“Still…” the sheriff argued. “This is brutal!”
She smiled as if trying to laugh off the seriousness of the beating. “He plays poker with the judge and police chief. John told the doctors that I fell down the stairs.”
They all stared at her as if she’d said something that didn’t make sense. And in reality, every police officer and medical doctor knew the difference between a fall and a beating. These pictures clearly showed a beating!
“I’m going to kill him,” Derick muttered, practically breathing smoke.
Chapter 14
In the end, Mike held Derick back until he was calm again. It helped that Mike got a call from one of the team members. General Kelly had assigned several team members to set up a perimeter around Carrie’s house. One of the team members had spotted Detective John Mingram of the Minneapolis Police Department hiding in a tree behind Carrie’s house. Since the land was technically part of the Army base, although not many people knew that, it was more of a buffer area, the fence of the actual base being about a mile west of that spot, but the trespassing charge was the first offense tacked onto the man’s list of crimes. The team member snapped several photos of John, who was taking pictures of Carrie’s house. So stalking was added to the list as well.
Detective John Mingram stayed behind the damned house all day, pacing back and forth while muttering expletives. Later, when Carrie hadn’t returned so that he could get to her, his mutterings devolved into what he was going to do to her when he finally got his hands on her.
Unbeknownst to the furious detective, Carrie had been safely ensconced in one of the officers’ barracks on the Army base, assigned there by General Kelly himself. It wasn’t exactly standard practice to house civilians in military quarters, but because of the general’s position and rank, no one asked questions.
Meanwhile, Sheriff Richard Davenport developed a plan. Mike, Derick, Joe, and Zeke as well as several police officers, and the department’s only female detective, Sandy McLean, who was of similar height and build as Carrie, all worked up the plan, determined to catch this guy in the worst possible light.
With the technology available, the Delta Force team members and police officers went to work. The impromptu party at Carrie’s house was really just a cover so that the police could set up the surveillance cameras throughout the property. They knew that Carrie’s ex-boyfriend was lurking in the area somewhere. So they’d come up with this party as a way to hide their efforts.
There were “beers” involved, and several of the female officers were more than happy to offer their services. With several members of the task force hanging out on the back porch while others worked inside, another team member moseyed over to the area where John was lurking. With a beanbag gun in hand, the soldier moved into position and fired into the woods. Several times, actually, hitting the unsuspecting John in the arm, the ribs, and both legs.
Then, the soldier rushed over, smothering his laughter as he came over to apologize.
“Hey! I’m so sorry! I thought you were the raccoons that have been messing with my garbage cans late at night!” the soldier explained.
“You idiot!” John hissed, trying to keep his voice down as the pain sliced through his leg and his ribs. Turning, he glared at the idiot coming out of the trees. What a jackass!
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he demanded. A private! He’d been shot by a freaking bean bag by a private!
The guy approached, his hands held up, palms out. “Like I said, I thought you were a raccoon!”
“Do I look like a freaking raccoon to you?”
John could have sworn that the ass was laughing at him, but it was too dark right now to really see the man’s features. Plus, he couldn’t walk over to the guy and demand answers since John knew he wasn’t supposed to be here. Not even his boss knew that he was here in Alabama.
“No, sir! I just heard a noise and…” he shrugged. “It’s just a bean bag. Shouldn’t do much damage.”
John wanted to punch the guy. But he kept his mouth shut, limping off since he wasn’t supposed to be out here.
Carrie was having a freaking party while he was out here waiting for her to be alone, hurt by an idiot with a bean bag gun! She was definitely going to pay!
The following day, Detective Sandy McLean stepped out of the beat up old pickup truck and into the night air, pushing the sunglasses higher onto her nose, and tugging the hat down. She wore baggy jeans and a baggy tee shirt, all of which hid her weapon, Taser, and cuffs.
There was an extra bit of energy in the air tonight. This was it, she thought as she used Carrie’s key to unlock the front door. She could feel it in her bones.
Walking into the kitchen, she turned on the lights and poured herself a glass of water. Standing at the window, she listened to her earpiece as the surveillance team monitored the asshole who was trying to sneak up on the owner of this house.
Damn, she loved this job! Sandy moved up the stairs, turning off the lights as she left one room and made sure to turn on the lights as she moved to the next. The lights provided the jerk hiding in the woods with a perfect path to follow as Sandy moved through the house.
Sandy had seen the pictures of Carrie after that one beating. She understood what the woman had gone through, how she’d hidden away from the abusive ex-boyfriend. And because of those pictures, because of how Carrie had dealt with the aftermath, Sandy was determined to catch this asshole! Too many men smacked women around. This one wasn’t going to get away with it!
In the bedroom, Sandy’s lips pressed together. Air bag for a mattress. Sleeping bag. The woman hadn’t even gotten a real bed. Carrie’s clothes were stacked neatly against the wall, a duffle bag open and ready at the end of the line.
Just in case she needed to leave quickly, Sandy knew. That was the same reason why Carrie hadn’t spent any money on furniture. She’d need her assets to remain liquid so that she could move on quickly at the slightest threat.
Sandy understood the drill and wished the world was different. Things were changing, but it was still a harsh world for so many women.
She walked into the bathroom and pretended to brush her teeth, then straightened her wig. From a distance, she could pass for Carrie…but up close, one would easily figure out she was a decoy.
Sandy pulled off her jeans, trying to move around the room just as Carrie would when getting ready for bed. The leggings underneath the jeans kept her from actually being naked during the upcoming takedown. She then slipped her pistol under the pillow, and turned off the lights. For a long moment, she contemplated going over to the window, just to look out and let the asshole know that she was here, waiting.
But that wasn’t something Carrie would do, so instead, she sat down on the floor and waited. Carrie wasn’t a victim, Sandy thought. Carrie might be scared, but hell, who wouldn’t? The woman wasn’t a victim. She was a survivor! A damn good one, she thought!
In her earpiece, she heard the words of warning, “He’s coming to you, Detective.”
Sandy slid along the floor to get in a better position to see the door. It was easy to do since there wasn’t a lot of furniture. Even so, she slid quietly, listening intently. There were no sounds anywhere but from her earpiece.
“He’s at the doorway,” one of the officers announced.
“The video has been confirmed, correct?” Sand
y recognized the voice of Sheriff Davenport, her boss.
“Confirmed,” another officer responded.
“Confirmed and recording,” yet another said. Sandy knew that the second voice was from Andy who was the tech officer and was stationed half a block away, sitting in the police van.
“He’s in. Detective McLean, standby.”
Sandy heard the words and readied her weapon. At the last minute, she moved, shifting towards the side of the doorway and holstering her weapon.
“Carrie!” a male voice called out. There was a shattering of glass. Apparently, the jerk had dropped several of Carrie’s plates onto the kitchen floor. “I can’t believe you’re living in this dump, you bitch!”
Sandy slowed her breathing, picturing him as he moved through the kitchen.
“You know I’m going to kill you this time, don’t you Carrie?”
Sandy smiled, feeling the adrenaline shoot through her. “It’s going to be really slow. I’m going to have fun killing you, my little darling. You escaped from me last time. I won’t risk it again!” He laughed. The bastard actually laughed at the idea of killing a woman! What a bastard!
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” he sing-songed.
Sandy heard him start up the stairs. The guy wasn’t even trying to be quiet.
“You know I’m going to hurt you even more if you make me have to look for you, Carrie!” he snapped. Apparently, his patience was at an end.
Sandy remained still, wanting him to lose his temper.
“Detective McLean, ping if you’re still in place,” her boss ordered softly through her earphone.
Sandy reached up silently and tapped her earpiece, giving the ping that would alert her team and boss that she was in place and prepared to take the bastard down.
“Officer Swanell, ping if you’re in place.”
Another ping. Sheriff Davenport went through the other officers that were standing by in the various rooms of the house. Each of them pinged back, indicating that they were not only ready, but waiting eagerly.
Derick (Delta Forces Book 3) Page 7
