by Rachel Smith
He pulled his shirt over his head. “You know I can’t do that, Lizzie.”
“Then why taunt me with the whole ‘all the bad shit happening in town’ bit, huh?” I asked, waving my hands around to prove my point.
Alex glared. Jaw tight, eyes glittering with anger. “You know why.”
I glared right back. “You’re overreacting about this. I didn’t keep this from you on purpose, Alex. I just forgot. It’s not a big deal. And in all honesty? I’m glad he stopped in. Max Mayland was in there, again, and Johnny pretty much scared him away.”
The air in the room crackled with intensity. My breath caught in my lungs, and I literally saw Alex’s face turn from being mildly pissed at me to completely, utterly, one thousand percent fucking angry.
“Oh God,” I muttered.
“What?” his soft whisper cut through the quiet room. After two steps he was in my space, both hands curled around my biceps. “Tell me that asshole wasn’t there.”
“Uh… which one are you talking about? They’re both assholes.” I laughed nervously, hoping he’d get my joke.
His fingers dug into my skin.
“Alex, you’re hurting me,” I whimpered, and he let go instantly.
He turned for a second before whirling around and tossed a shirt at me. “Clothes,” he growled. I quickly dressed while he waited, rather impatiently, by the bedroom door.
“Let’s go.” Grabbing my hand, Alex pulled me through the house. We quickly put on boots and coats before racing out the door to his truck.
Now, I didn’t have much experience with men in my life. Very little, to be honest. My longest relationship being the previous one that we all know ended badly… you know, because of that whole marriage thing.
But sitting in Alex’s truck, I knew. I knew he wasn’t mad at me. I knew he was annoyed I hadn’t told him about the package, but it was more the fact that Johnny had been in my office. And Max. I had been very forthcoming with Max’s advances recently and obviously Alex despised him.
So, I kept my mouth closed. I let him brood as he drove. With a permanent scowl in place, I would catch the occasional shake of his head. But I never said a word.
Not on the way there.
Not on the way inside my office.
Not even as I picked up the package and ripped away the packing tape in one swift pull.
I never said a word.
Not until I opened the top and dug through the layers of tissue paper, finally hitting something solid when I reached the bottom.
Then, I gasped. A loud gasp as I sucked air deep into my lungs and held it.
“What is it?” Alex asked.
I reached both hands deep into the box and cupped them, scooping as many pieces of the material as I could hold. As I pulled them free from the box, my breath hitched.
“Lizzie, seriously, what the hell is all this?”
“My sign,” I finally whispered.
Alex looked at me, confused.
“Inside my door,” I went on, lifting my chin to face him. Tears began to gather in my eyes as the sheer terror of what this meant raced through my mind.
“What door?” he asked.
My tears began to fall. One by one they slid down my cheek in rapid succession.
“Lizzie,” Alex prompted impatiently.
“This,” I said as I lifted a handful of wood scraps into the air, “used to be the ‘Welcome Friends’ sign that hung on the wall right inside my door at my house.” I looked down at my hand and whispered, “I didn’t even realize it was missing.”
Fear hit me like a solid blow from a linebacker. Whoever was out to get me, whoever had sent the nasty letter and now this package, had been inside my house.
My house.
Inside my damn house.
I looked at Alex, knowing he would lose his mind over this. He used both hands to gently fold the top of the box back together and then reached for his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Address,” was his only reply before his phone camera clicked and then he held it up to his ear. “Alan. It’s Lexington. Got an address I need you to run.”
An address. I hadn’t even thought of that. The box had a return address because it was delivered. I looked down and pressed the ripped tape flat to read it.
Glenview, Iowa.
“All right, call me when you get something,” Alex said into his phone before he looked at me. “Yeah, we’ll be down to the station in just a few.”
I nodded.
Local. Whoever sent this was local.
Lived local.
It could be someone I saw every day.
Or someone who lived near me.
My eyes caught Alex’s as he hung up the phone. “Why?” I asked and he shook his head.
“I don’t know, babe. But I promise I’m going to find out, all right? I’m going to find out why, and who, and then I’m going to make whoever the fuck is messing with you pay. You hear me?”
“Yeah,” I answered, my voice husky from tears. “I hear you.”
“Good.” His hand snaked around my neck and pulled me into his chest. I wound both arms around his waist and held on.
I held on as Alex held me together. Held me tight and whispered in my ear, “Everything’s going to be okay.” Held me tight because he knew… he knew if he let go, I would fall apart.
20
Alex
I opened my eyes, hoping all the shit from the day before had been a dream.
It wasn’t.
Lizzie snuggled closer, letting out a small whine in her sleep. I held her tight and wished like hell I could shield her from all this.
She’d cried the whole way home from the station. While she undressed. While she crawled into bed. And for quite a while in my arms until she finally drifted off. Her sleep wasn’t deep though, I could tell by the way she tossed and turned, rolling around all night long.
Still, I held on.
Fuck me, it was the only thing I could do at the moment.
Hold on.
Hold on to the first moment I saw her, all disheveled and rambling pure nonsense when I pulled her over.
Hold on to that night in the bar when I learned she had impeccable air guitar skills.
Hold on to the first time. When I couldn’t hold it in any longer and took her, fast and hard, up against the wall just inside her door.
God, I loved this woman. Loved her like I’d never loved another person before in my life. And the fact some asshole was out there, scaring the crap out of her, tore me apart.
Because why? She’d only lived here a few months. She was friendly, caring, excited to open her new business. Charlotte’s friends had taken to her instantly, welcoming her into their fold.
“Think, Lexington,” I whispered into the dark and Lizzie stirred again.
I looked down as she slowly began to blink away the sleep. Red, swollen eyes looked back up at me. “You held me all night.”
I smiled. “Yeah.”
She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against my shoulder. “Yesterday really happened, didn’t it?”
I brushed her hair back with my hand and held it away from her face. “It did, but do you remember what I told you last night?”
“Everything will be all right,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” I whispered back. “I promise.”
She held on tight, her arms draped over my body, her face in my neck. The weight of that promise felt heavy, too heavy.
We lay there for a while as my mind raced.
It took every ounce of strength I could muster to peel myself away from her to head in to the station.
“I’ll be fine,” she stated with a nod, likely trying to convince herself.
I rubbed the back of my neck to try and relieve the tension built there. “Are you sure?”
“I only have two appointments today, so I’ll just get caught up on paperwork and keep busy at my office.”
I nodded, wanting to make her
come with me to the station. I had a bad feeling about today. One I just couldn’t seem to shake.
“I’m having a unit do a drive-by all day.”
She looked at me, her eyes big with surprise. “Really?”
“Yes, really. I don’t care if this is just some punks thinking they’re funny trying to scare you. I don’t like how this feels, Lizzie, not one fucking bit, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit by let this shit happen to the woman I love.”
I finished the pile of paperwork on top of my desk and even got it all filed. Sometimes I enjoyed the days at the desk. Funny, considering how much I bitched about it when the FBI wanted me at a desk full time.
The Glenview department had a good balance. Sharing time between patrol and the desk worked here for some reason.
I’d just placed the last of the files in the cabinet when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I pushed the drawer closed as I turned my head. “Hey, Raftzen.”
“Got a lock on that address.”
The drawer slammed against the cabinet with a jolt. Alan dropped a manila folder on the side of my desk.
“Talk,” I barked.
“Address registers to a Glenda Watson. Older lady, mid-sixties, lived around here her whole life. Her husband died a few years ago and she inherited all his farmland,” he explained.
“So, who lives there now?”
Alan shook his head. “No one. Only thing left of the home place is an old, run-down barn in the middle of a field. Hell, I’m not even sure there’s an access lane to get there. It needs to be torn down, but I guess there’s some sort of well underneath the damn thing. It would cost them a fucking fortune to dig it all up, so they just let the barn sit there and rot.”
My mind raced. This didn’t make any sense. “So someone used the address of this place?”
Alan nodded. “I’m thinking so, yeah. But we need to pay Glenda a visit, just to make sure. Her grandson farms the land now. Also a good guy. I can’t imagine he’s got anything to do with sending Liz this shit, but I think we still better check it out.”
I slammed the folder shut and tossed it back onto my desk. “Let’s go.”
An hour later, Raftzen and I walked out of Glenda’s house. He was right—neither of them had any reason to fuck with Lizzie.
So back to square one.
Nothing.
“At least we can cross them off the list,” Alan said as we made our way down the front steps.
“Yeah,” I agreed. I pulled open the passenger side door of Alan’s SUV and folded in. “Though,” I went on, “not sure I trust a woman who makes hot potato salad.”
Alan laughed. “It’s a thing around here,” he explained. “German potato salad.”
“Smelled like vinegar and onions,” I said, and he laughed again.
Raftzen turned the key and we started back toward the station. “You try it sometime, Lexington, you’ll be hooked. I promise. No one makes that shit as good as Glenda Watson.”
I believed him. Still, I wasn’t sure I could stomach it. Potato salad was meant to be cold. For picnics and family get-togethers in the summer. Hot potato salad just seemed wrong to me on so many levels.
I’d been so inside my head, I didn’t even realize we were already back at the station until I heard Alan mutter, “Shit.”
I looked at him, wondering what was up, only to see him staring straight ahead. I turned, looked out the windshield and saw Brandon Waters sitting on the front step in front of the station.
My door was open in a flash and I jogged toward him. “Brandon, you okay?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I just…” he trailed off and looked away. “I just needed…”
“All right, let’s get you inside where it’s warm.” I put my hand on the back of his neck and led him into the station, down the first set of stairs and into interrogation room three.
He stopped, his body tense. “I just wanted to talk, so why am I down here?”
I shook my head and forced a smile. “You’re not in trouble, bud. I just figured you needed privacy for whatever you’ve got going on.”
He held my eyes but didn’t answer. Finally, he nodded and took a seat.
“Thirsty?” I asked.
“No.”
I waited, letting the ball be in his court. When he still didn’t jump in, I asked, “Hungry?”
He shook his head. “No.”
And again, we waited, until finally I lost patience.
“All right, Brandon, you came here. I’ve got shit to do and an asshole stalker to catch. I don’t have all day to sit here waiting for you to grow a pair and tell me what the hell is up.”
His brows furrowed. “Asshole stalker?”
Shit. My bad letting that slip.
I sighed. “Yeah, Brandon, an asshole stalker. So I can’t sit here all day and play this cat-and-mouse game with you. I’ll ask you one more time, what’s up?”
He looked down at the table, still quiet. “Brandon,” I prompted.
“My mom’s dead,” he whispered. When he looked up, his eyes glistened. He was trying to beat back the tears. “She’s dead because my dad’s an idiot.”
Damn, this kid was killing me. “Listen, Brandon, unfortunately in life, we don’t get to choose the family we’re born into. None of the shit that’s gone down inside your family is because of anything you did, you understand? Yeah, your dad is an idiot, I’ll give you that much. But your mom loved you. She didn’t do anything wrong but marry a guy who got in way over his head and chose a bad way to try and dig himself out.”
He nodded, causing a tear to fall down his cheek. His hand quickly brushed it away before he took a deep breath. “I know.”
I bent low, looking directly into his eyes. “You been seeing that therapist I told you about?”
“Yeah, once a week.”
“Good.”
I held his gaze, wishing I could pour whatever courage this kid needed to make it out on the right side of life.
Suddenly, he sat up taller. “I’m going to do better. No more messing around with drugs or doing any side jobs for Johnny Trellis.” When he said Johnny’s name, the hair on my arms stood straight on end. Brandon didn’t notice, he just went on. “I’m going to keep going to school so I can graduate. I might even become a cop someday like you. I swear, I’m not going to turn out like my dad.”
I lifted my chin in acknowledgement, working like hell to get my emotions under control before I spoke. A minute slid by, then another. Trying to sound nonchalant, I sat back in my chair and crossed one foot over my knee.
“What kinda shit you been doing for Johnny Trellis?” I asked.
But before he could answer, the door to room three burst open. Alan Raftzen ran in, looking frantic. I looked at him, then back to Brandon, hoping like hell the kid hadn’t done something stupid before he came to the station.
“Give us a minute, will ya, Brandon?” Alan asked. My eyes flew back to Alan and I knew.
I knew.
God… I fucking knew something had happened.
I pointed at Brandon. “Stay right there.”
“Alex…” Raftzen pleaded as I pushed him through the door and into the hall.
“What happened to her?” I asked and watched his eyes slowly close and then reopen again.
“Answer me, Raftzen.”
“Call came in a few minutes ago. Someone heard a gunshot at Lizzie’s office. I got a unit on the way there right now, but…” He stopped and caught my eye.
“But what? Just fucking say it!” I barked out.
“Got a witness who says they saw a woman fitting Lizzie’s description get into a car. Whoever got ahold of her had a mask on, so they couldn’t give me anything for a description. No plates, but we got the make and model of the car. The new kid, Jacobs, he’s running the info now.”
I stood still, unable to move as Alan’s words floated around me. The sick feeling from earlier was back, nestled into the pit of my stomach.
Someone took Lizzie.<
br />
My Lizzie.
The goofy, nerdy girl I’d fallen in love with was in the presence of some dirty fucking scumbag, probably scared out of her damn mind.
“Talk to me here, Lexington. How do you want to play this?”
I looked at Alan, my mouth unable to move as every possible scenario seemed to pass through my brain. My years of FBI training vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind.
They didn’t teach us what to do when it was someone we loved. They didn’t cover how to handle the gut-wrenching emotions that would slice through your body.
Who could have her?
What did they want with her?
Where did they take her?
“Lexington!” Alan said as he snapped his fingers in front of my face. “I asked, how the fuck you want to play…”
I spun on my heel, throwing the door open to the interrogation room with such force, the inside window shattered when it slammed against the wall. Brandon Waters jumped, his eyes wide with fear.
“Tell me about Johnny Trellis,” I demanded. “Now.”
“What?” he asked, looking like a deer caught in the headlights.
I slammed my fist down on the table. “I don’t have time for this bullshit!” My voice echoed against the concrete walls of the room. “My woman is in trouble, damnit, now tell me what the fuck Trellis is up to!”
Brandon literally shook with fear. “I… I don’t know,” he stuttered. “I just got drugs from the dude.”
I ran both of my hands through my hair, the frustration of this whole situation getting to be too much.
“Go home, Brandon,” I instructed before pushing past Alan as I barreled through the door.
“Where you headed?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t fucking know.
All I knew is my woman was missing and I had to find her.
I had to.
21
Lizzie
Blood oozed from the gaping hole in my midsection. My vision blurred, smearing the image in front of me into a foggy haze.
I could see a person. A man, I think. It was hard to tell. I couldn’t get my eyes to focus, the pain so unbearable it made me nauseous.