by Zoe Dawson
Dex took her hand and smiled. They were just a couple enjoying a walk from their hotel to take in the sights of Pentagon City.
A shot rang out just as they got to the front doors of the café and Dex pulled her back against the building. A man, dressed in black and a hoodie obscuring his face, emerged from a parked car. When he saw them, he raised the gun he was holding, and suddenly she and Dex were in the assassin’s sights.
Chapter Thirteen
Dex started moving. The guy in the hoodie moved along with them, cutting off their access to the subway. Reaching to the small of his back and grabbing the grip of the handgun, Dex pulled it free and thumbed the safety. People ran and the bastard ducked into the crowd, effectively blocking any opportunity Dex had of taking the guy out. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to run him down, but he couldn’t leave Piper. Dex pulled her across the street. He raced through the parking lot. The Pentagon was straight ahead, the illumination of the 9/11 Memorial flickering as they ran.
“This way,” Piper said, and they veered off, crossing over the GW Parkway, and didn’t slow. Skirting Arlington Cemetery, they curved around, heading for the Memorial Bridge. Dex looked behind him and a bullet pinged off metal. They hit the edge of the span, sprinting straight out. Piper was visibly laboring, but Dex was barely feeling the burn. When they reached the other side, huge bronze sculptures of two knights on horseback flanked either side of the bridge and she looked fearfully over her shoulder as they passed. Dex pulled her to the side and the dark figure chasing them slowed to a walk. The man who had been chasing them raised his arm, bringing the gun up and he pulled the trigger. Piper gasped in Dex’s ear.
“Let’s hot foot it to the Foggy Bottom subway stop,” he growled. She nodded.
There was a shout from behind the assassin and two running figures started after them.
They took off as the assassin’s gun discharged again, using the cover of the bridge until they were farther down the trail. Dex turned to shoot at the running men, joggers from the look of them. Then the assassin headed after them.
Dex lost sight of all three of their pursuers as they looped around and came up behind the glowing Lincoln Memorial, with the past president forever cast in marble sitting on that huge chair. He grabbed Piper’s hand as they cut across the memorial, but the assassin materialized and cut them off from Foggy Bottom. Changing direction, they raced down the side of the reflecting pool toward the Washington Monument.
Dex got off two shots, but the guy was constantly moving, and it was hard to get a bead on him. They sprinted across Constitution Avenue with horns blaring, the hooded figure keeping pace.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and he increased his stride, pelting down Seventeenth, straight for the Farragut West Metro Station. When Dex looked back, the assassin was no longer behind them, and Dex stopped and pressed up against the building. The two joggers materialized at the head of the street.
His chest heaving, he took her by the shoulders and said, “I want you to make for McPherson Square,” he said, panting.
“Dex, no. Lafayette is right across the street.”
“Go, Piper. Don’t argue with me.”
Her face contorted and she left him. Dex ducked down E Street and took a right on Eighteenth, then slowed. He checked every alley and possible hiding spot, but it looked like the bastard was gone.
He loped to the Farragut West Metro, approaching with caution. He heard a shout for him to stop, but he got on the escalator and jumped down, two stairs at a time, until he reached the underground tunnel leading to the turnstiles. He stuck the handgun into the small of his back, keeping his eyes peeled for the assassin but moving fast. He slipped his pass through and got onto the platform, looking around as the two men had to stop and get tickets before they could get on the metro. But instead they jumped the turnstiles, causing the metro cop to come barreling out of his booth. No sign of the shooter.
Luckily, a train was pulling up as the two guys argued with the metro cop. Dexter got on board and pulled out his burner, dialing Piper. When she answered, his breath rushed out in relief.
“Are you okay?” she said in a rush.
“Yes, I’m on the train and there’s no sign of him. Where are you?”
“The train’s here. I’ve got to go.”
“Meet me at Metro Center.”
The phone went dead, and he wasn’t sure if she heard him.
It was a tense ride all the way to Metro Center. He got off and he saw her standing in the shadows by the stairs. When she saw him, she rushed out and he ushered her up the escalator and out of the station.
They made their way two blocks over, then hailed a cab, got out about a mile from the safe house and hoofed it the rest of the way.
Once they were inside, Dex locked the door and set the alarm, then he pulled Piper against him. He was trembling, not from reaction or adrenaline, but abject fear for Piper. They held each other for a long time, and Dex was quite aware that he was harboring more than just simple feelings for her. He was getting deeply attached.
She pressed her face against his and he captured her chin and tilted her head up.
He kissed her then, sliding his fingers into her hair, displacing the cap, stripping off the elastic band.
“Dex…”
“Let me,” he murmured, splaying his hand against her face, tilting with his thumb beneath her chin, placing kisses along her jaw to the downy hair at her temple. She sighed and tipped her head back, and he was torn between tenderness and desire.
He slid his hands to the nape of her neck, sent his fingers into her hair and tipped her mouth up to his again.
Finally, he was able to let her go. He clasped her hand and went and turned on the news.
There was an aerial view of Pentagon City with tons of flashing police cars.
A woman anchor came on and said, “Police are combing the streets looking for a shooter, a man in a black hoodie and dark pants. It’s believed that he shot and killed Douglas Utley while he sat in his car outside this Coffee Now. Mr. Utley was a private investigator by trade and at this time the police believe it was a simple carjacking. This is Wanda Donovan reporting from Pentagon City, back to…”
He shut off the TV and knew what he had to do. “It’s clear this whole conspiracy goes deep and is connected to your car accident. I’ve got to get to that PI’s office before the police.”
“Okay,” Piper said.
“No, Piper. Alone. I want you to stay here. We have no idea if that guy followed Mr. Utley and we were the targets all along. I want you safe.”
“Hell, no! I have to go. If this is about my accident and someone murdered Brad, they also are the murderer of my child! Whoever killed him robbed me. I can’t have any more children. I want justice. I want someone to pay for this! They took my life. My future.”
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she sobbed against him. “I know. I know. I’m so sorry. He could be waiting for us there.”
“We have to risk it. If we don’t find something… Dex…”
“All right. But do exactly what I say, and if I tell you to run, you run.”
She looked mutinous.
“Piper…”
“All right, but I want a weapon.”
He walked out of the room and into the bedroom they were sharing. He pulled out the suitcase and retrieved the handgun he’d brought back with him from Afghanistan, then checked the safety. Back out in the living room, she was standing there, looking like her world had caved in.
He took her wrist and set the weapon in her hand. “You comfortable with this?”
She looked down at the gun, then up at him. “Yes,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Doug Utley’s office was located on a residential street in a nondescript neighborhood. They once again used the metro with so many escape possibilities. It was better than a car that could be traced right back to his father. They approached down the dark street, and luckily there were no cop cars
.
Dex led Piper to the back of the house. A dog barked in the distance, and Dex opened the screen to the back door and tried the knob. It was open. He looked over his shoulder and whispered, “Be careful and stay close.”
They entered, the door squeaking. Whoever was here had to have heard that, but they needed whatever information Utley had. Now that he was dead, there was only his office and hopefully his computer to help them figure out the mystery and free Piper from a death threat.
Every sense in his body was heightened as he made his way slowly through the kitchen. They entered a short hall with closed doors. Checking everywhere before he moved, he went to the first door. Opening it, he found it was the powder room. The next room was a closet. He crossed by the open living room area, scanning for any movement, but there was nothing. No sound except the barking dog. Piper’s hand was clenched into his T-shirt.
Together they crept down to the end of the hall to another door, and Dex turned the knob. Standing to the side, he pushed the door open.
Dismay rushed through him. Utley’s office was a mess. Dex ducked inside and brought Piper in with him before he closed the door. There was no one there, but the person who had chased them at Pentagon City had done what he needed to do.
Dex found Utley’s laptop under the desk, smashed beyond repair. The back was pried off, the hard drive of the machine gone.
He swore soft and low.
He heard a footfall on the front porch, then knocking. He moved the curtain and saw one of the joggers who had chased him into the metro.
“Who is it?” she whispered, and Dex put his mouth to her ear, letting her know and telling her to stay quiet. Who the hell were these guys? The man reached back and pulled out a weapon, and from the way he held it, Dex could tell he was either law enforcement or military.
“Cops, I think. We’ve got to get out of here,” he whispered. He pulled open the door and he and Piper moved as fast as they could toward the back door.
In true cop fashion, one of them had been sent to the back. Dex stood to the side, dragging Piper after him.
The guy came through the door, leading with his gun. Dex handed his to Piper. No way was he killing a cop. Silently, Dex slipped behind him. He got him into a headlock and the guy elbowed Dex in the ribs, right into his wound. He cried out, but didn’t let go, just tightened his arm around the guy’s neck, but the other man broke free and threw a punch, knocking Dex into the sink. Glassware, silverware and plates tumbled off the counter, hitting the floor with a terrible crash.
His partner shouted something from the front, and Dex heard him ram the door, trying to get in. Dex wrestled with the second guy until he heard the metallic hum and a thud.
The guy dropped and Piper stood there with a frying pan in her hand. He grabbed her by the arm, and they burst out of the back door as the sound of splintering wood came from the front of the house.
They ran down the driveway and didn’t stop running until they hit the metro.
Doug Utley’s Home, Washington, DC
“Are you all right?” Austin asked as he extended his hand to help Derrick stand. He wobbled a bit and Austin steadied him.
“Damn,” Derrick said with a low growl, rubbing the back of his head. “Kaczewski is one strong son of a bitch.”
“Did you get clocked by a frying pan?” Austin tried to keep the humor out of his voice.
He had obviously failed, because Derrick gave him a narrowed look. “Yeah, the senator wields a mean one.”
“Are you sure it was them?” Austin bent down and retrieved Derrick’s gun and handed it to him.
“Yeah, it was dim, but I recognized him, and he had a blonde with him.”
“That was a good call, thinking they would come here.”
“Where the hell does this dead PI fit in?”
“I don’t know, but this has been one of the most interesting, confusing cases I’ve ever been on. We better check in and I think we ought to just go to bed and get some sleep. You need a doctor?”
“No, I’ve got a hard head.”
“Freeze. Don’t move a muscle.”
Austin and Derrick raised their hands. “Great,” Austin grumbled as the cop took their weapons and cuffed them.
“We’re NCIS,” he said as they hauled them out of the house.
“We’ll get this straightened out downtown, gentlemen.”
Kai wasn’t going to be happy.
And she wasn’t, but she talked to the DC brass and after an hour, they released Derrick and Austin with a request if they had any information regarding Doug Utley’s death, they would share.
When they got back to the hotel room and got ready for bed, Austin surprisingly couldn’t sleep. It was pretty clear that Kaczewski and Jones were holed up somewhere in DC that had good access to downtown, and they were in the process of figuring out who was trying to kill her. In their shoes, he’d do the same.
He pushed back the covers and grabbed his laptop. On a hunch, he started searching social media. When he saw that Dexter’s mother had an account, he started hacking.
Suburbs of Washington, DC
“I can’t believe this,” she raged as she and Dex entered the house and he set the alarm. He gently caught her shoulders.
“We’re going to figure this out.”
“How? Our best lead is dead, his office trashed, and his computer smashed.”
He caught her against him.
“We’re going to figure this out,” he said again, his voice a little fiercer, his hands squeezing her shoulders.
She nodded, not trusting herself to say anything for fear she would break down completely. She didn’t want to feel hopeless, but nothing, not one tiny thing, had gone their way tonight. The night had been a complete bust.
Dex wrapped his arms around her and held her for a moment, hugging her, but when her arms snaked around his waist, he made a soft, pained sound.
“Oh, Dex. I’m sorry.”
“I’m okay,” he said, but she wasn’t convinced. He had taken enough blows to his wound to last her a lifetime. She peeled up his shirt and took a quick breath. No blood and the stitches were still intact. “Looks like you’re going to bruise.” She pressed gingerly around the area and he grunted.
“Who do you think those guys were?” she asked, taking his hand and dragging him into the kitchen. She opened the fridge and pulled out one of the soft ice packs in there, wrapped it in a kitchen towel and pressed it to his side.
He shrugged. “They looked like cops to me.”
“They were the joggers who were chasing after us on the Mall.”
“Could still be cops. Maybe detectives. Wouldn’t be a surprise if they were. DC would have dispatched homicide detectives over to Utley’s place. Now they know it wasn’t some carjacking.”
“Maybe. This is just one jumbled-up mess. Sit down,” she said, and he went to one of the stools and slid onto the seat.
“Let’s get something to eat,” he suggested, “and talk about this a bit.”
“I’ll cook. It’ll keep my hands and mind busy. I don’t know what there is to talk about.”
“Piper, I don’t want to cause you any more worry and pain than you’re already experiencing, but you’re right. I can’t twist the truth to save my life or help the fact that I think through every scenario.”
“What do you mean?”
“It occurs to me that DC is a place where there is a tremendous amount of temptation to stray, to go down the wrong path for whatever purpose, be it money, power, recognition.”
She frowned, not quite sure where he was going with this. “Yes, there is a lot of corruption and greed. What is your point?”
Piper stared at him, her heart suddenly hammering, a sense of foreboding settling heavily in her. And she knew—just knew by the tightness in his voice, by the rigidity of his body—that what he had to say was going to change her world, rob whatever peace she might have eked out in the last eighteen months. She wasn’t sure she wanted to
hear it. She wrapped her arms around herself, her voice wobbling. “What is it?”
He straightened, and his eyes reached out to her. Unnerved by the silence and suddenly cold, she pressed her back into the counter, instinctively feeling the need for support.
Bracing his hand on the countertop, he leaned forward, and Piper experienced a disquieting chill. “Maybe Brad was dirty,” he said quietly.
His words seemed to echo in her head for a moment. Then they cut through her with slicing strokes of pain. It was as if someone threw ice-cold water in her face. She was speechless, iced to the bone. She had never for one second thought that Brad was the corrupt one. Dear God. If he had done something illegal and then it had caught up to him, he was responsible for his own death and the death of their child. She clutched her middle and doubled over.
Dex was there, but she could only feel a horrifying agony, as if her insides had been ripped out of her, feeling so empty.
He made a helpless gesture with his hand, and for the first time it looked like he didn’t know what to do. “Jesus. I’m sorry, Piper. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She couldn’t draw breath to even speak. The man she had loved, had given her heart to, had supported and protected and cherished, had conceived a child with…no, it was too much.
When she didn’t say anything, he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the sofa. She shivered and shook and clutched at him as if he were the only solid, sure thing she had in her life.
He watched her as if she had gone somewhere he couldn’t follow, unease and apology in his eyes.
His warm voice caressed her, and she remembered that he had been the man to stand by her. The heaviness in Piper’s chest increased as dread settled in and she felt as if she were at the edge of a dark, deep hole.
“Talk to me, babe,” he said, his voice strained with guilt.
She tucked her arms closer around her waist. What if Brad was dirty? She didn’t want to even contemplate that, but now that he’d said it, she couldn’t seem to dismiss it. Her gut said no. Every fiber of her being said no.
