Her breath came in harsh gasps as she drew her weapon and pointed it at him. “Get up, asshole. Hands where I can see them.”
Ignoring her completely, he rolled into the fetal position and clutched his junk while tears leaked out from beneath the dark glasses.
“Wow. You’re a real tough guy.” Holding the Sig aimed straight at his chest, Talia patted him down, removed a switchblade from his sweatshirt pocket, and backed away. Bending, she scooped up a gauzy scarf. Not her first choice in restraints, but it would have to do. “Quit crying and get your ass off the floor.”
“Talia!” Sharp raps rattled the door.
When she took a quick glance behind her, the man kicked out, connecting with her shin. Her feet flew out from under her, and she crashed hard onto her hip. The Sig slid toward a tangle of sweaters as she scrambled to get up.
With a yell, he drove his fist into the side of her head. The impact knocked her silly, and it took a moment to gather her wits as the room spun around her. The reverberation of the door hitting the wall was followed by a shrill scream.
Pressing her hands against the floor, she pushed to her feet and swayed.
“Talia! Oh, my goodness. There’s blood on your face.” Eloise hurried into the room and grabbed her arm.
Talia blinked and wiped a hand across her chin. It came away with a red smear. “Did that man hurt you?”
“No. He just gave me a shove and ran toward the stairs. He’s probably almost to the lobby by now.” Her neighbor’s voice grew higher with each word. “I’m calling 9-1-1 this minute.”
Gripping the couch, Talia forced her feet to move. Finally, she reached the window and pulled up the blind just as her attacker burst out the front door of the building. Dodging a woman walking a small dog, he limped across the street and disappeared down the block.
“He’s gone.”
“Yes, ma’am. My neighbor, Talia Davis, was attacked. Her apartment is all torn apart. No, the culprit left the building.” Eloise listened for a second before giving the operator her name and address and assuring the person Talia would live. “Yes ma’am. Her face is bruised and bloody. That maniac hit her.”
“Tell her I don’t need an ambulance. I’m okay.” Talia leaned against the wall, not too sure her legs would hold her upright.
“She says she doesn’t want an ambulance. Yes, she’s coherent. I’ll wait here with her for the police. Thank you.” Eloise disconnected and stuck her phone in her purse. “The operator said officers will be here shortly.”
“Great. They’ll dust for prints and make an even bigger mess.” Feeling a little steadier as her heartrate slowed, Talia bent to retrieve her handgun, checked the safety, then put it into her pack and slung the bag over her shoulder.
“You should have shot him.” Eloise’s voice was filled with venom.
“I blew it. I took my eyes off him for a second. Stupid of me.” She tamped down her anger—furious with herself for a rookie mistake. “I’m sorry that punk put his hands on you. What happened to your date?”
The wail of sirens grew louder before abruptly cutting off.
“I was in the lobby when Ansel called to tell me he wasn’t feeling well. He asked for a raincheck. We chatted for a minute or two, and then I came back upstairs and heard thumps and yells from in here. Gave me quite a fright.”
“Did you see my attacker earlier this evening? He must have been waiting somewhere in the building after he trashed my apartment.”
“No.” Her brows drew together. “The window that leads out to the fire escape was open. Maybe he was hiding out there.”
Talia let out a frustrated breath. “Damn. He probably heard us talking in the stairwell when I was on my way up. Maybe he thought getting the drop on me would be easier and quieter once I was in my apartment.”
Footsteps approached down the hall, and two uniformed officers appeared at the open door. “Boston PD. I’m Officer Murphy, and this is officer Holmes.” Murphy’s gray eyes darkened as she surveyed the room before zeroing in on Talia. If you can give me a description of the suspect, we’ll have all units on patrol keep an eye out for him.”
“Tall, probably six-two. A little over two hundred pounds. He was wearing jeans, a gray hoodie, dark glasses, and a navy bandanna around the lower half of his face. I got the impression he was fairly young, probably late twenties or early thirties, based on the way he moved. Caucasian, and he reeked of Axe. I wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a lineup, I’m afraid. However, he won’t be moving very fast since I nailed him in the balls with my knee.”
Her partner, a young man who basically fit the description of the perp, winced before speaking into the radio at his shoulder.
The female cop gave her a long, assessing look. “You’re sure you don’t want an ambulance, Ms. Davis. Your face is bleeding.”
“I’m fine. I think I bit my lip when he hit me. My cheek hurts from taking a punch, and I bruised my hip when I fell, but I’ll survive.”
“Maybe an icepack would help?”
“Good idea.”
“I didn’t mean—” She took a step forward. “Hey, you can’t—”
“I won’t touch anything.” Ignoring the officer’s protest, Talia picked her way through the silverware dumped on the floor of the kitchenette and used a dishtowel to open the freezer. After removing a bag of frozen berries, she pressed it to her aching jaw. The cold compress felt like heaven.
Murphy’s lips tightened. “Why don’t both you ladies come out into the hall. I don’t want to disturb the scene any more than necessary.”
“We can go to my apartment next door.” Eloise waved a hand. “Poor Talia probably needs to sit down. I’m Eloise Johnson, by the way. I heard the commotion when I was in the hall and called 9-1-1 after that thug ran off.”
“I’ll need to get a statement from both of you. Your apartment will be fine, Ms. Johnson. Thank you.” The lead officer glanced toward her partner. “You can question the other neighbors on this floor while you wait for the forensic team to show up.”
He nodded. “I’ll do that.”
Eloise led the way out of the apartment, unlocked her door, and opened it with a flourish. “Make yourselves at home. Would either of you like something to drink?”
Talia grinned, even though it hurt to move her mouth. She was pretty sure her neighbor was thoroughly enjoying being part of the action and playing hostess. “I’m good, Eloise. Let’s get this over with.”
“Have a seat.” The officer pulled a notebook from her jacket pocket. “Let’s start with your full name and contact information. Then you can tell me what happened.”
Talia gave a quick recital of the basic sequence of events. Returning home to find her apartment trashed. Being attacked and the subsequent struggle, followed by the man taking off when her neighbor knocked on the door. She left out the part about holding him at gunpoint. Easier to keep it simple and not produce her weapon, which would undoubtedly be confiscated as evidence.
“Any idea why he broke into your apartment. Did he take anything?”
She shook her head. “I’ve no clue. From what I could tell after a quick search, nothing was missing.”
Officer Murphy frowned. “Strange. If he had time to make such a mess, why wouldn’t he have at least shoved a few portable items into his pockets.”
“That was my thought, too.” Talia hesitated as a memory surfaced. The asshole choking her. Fighting for breath while the blood pounded in her head. Muted words spoken in a harsh voice.
Where is it?
Her attacker had been looking for something specific, but what? Obviously, he hadn’t found whatever he’d been after.
“Did you remember something?” The cop’s voice jerked her out of her reverie.
“I don’t know what he was after. I don’t own a lot of jewelry. No drugs. No cash. The break-in seems random and pointless.”
She gave her a skeptical look before turning to Eloise. “Ma’am, I’ll need your name and contact inform
ation, as well.”
While her neighbor gave the officer a dramatic account of her involvement, Talia struggled to come up with a possible motive for the break-in and failed. She couldn’t think of anything she’d acquired recently that would make her a target. She was still grasping for answers when the officer rose to her feet.
“You won’t be able to return to your apartment until forensics releases it. Also, a detective will be around shortly to follow up on the case.”
Talia nodded. “If I’m not in the building, you have my cell number. I may go get something to eat.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Thank you for your help, Officer Murphy.”
“You’re welcome.” The woman let herself out, the door closing behind her with a firm click.
“This evening has certainly been full of excitement.” Eloise hopped up from her chair and trotted into the kitchen. “How about a nice cup of soothing tea. I have leftover spaghetti carbonara from last night, if you’re hungry. There’s no reason why you need to go out to eat.” She turned, holding the teakettle. “Besides, you look like a victim in a zombie apocalypse movie. Maybe you’d like to wash your face?”
Talia removed the half-thawed berries from her numb jaw. “You’re right. I’d probably scare people.” She stood up and inched around the coffee table. “I’ll go clean up and try not to get blood on your towels.”
“If you do, they’ll wash.” Her tone was matter of fact. “I’ll heat up some dinner.”
“Thank you.” Talia detoured over to give the woman a quick hug. “You’re the best.”
“It’s not like you don’t help me out. You spent hours searching for my baby when he disappeared and brought him back safe and sound.”
Talia glanced toward the large tank in the corner of the room where a bearded dragon basked on a log beneath an ultraviolet light. A shudder rippled through her. “I was highly motivated to find him since I didn’t want to discover him warming himself in my bed.”
Eloise grinned. “No fear of that. Roger likes hard surfaces.”
She hadn’t been willing to risk it. “I’ll be right back.”
After shutting the bathroom door, she leaned on the counter and stared at herself in the mirror. Her chin was covered in dried blood, and her lip was swollen and cut. A purplish tinge darkened her cheek and jaw. Tamping down her anger, she wet a washcloth and applied it to her face. Once she’d cleaned the blood off her chin and the front of her jacket where it had dripped, she rinsed out the cloth and hung it over the edge of the clothes basket in the corner. After running her fingers through her wavy hair in a futile effort to tame it, she gave up and left the bathroom just as someone knocked on the apartment door.
“I’ll get it, Eloise. It’s probably the detective the officer mentioned.”
“Thank you.” The woman turned off the stove when the kettle whistled. “Maybe I should make three cups of tea.”
Talia swung open the door, and her brows shot up. “Detective Brasher. I didn’t expect to see you.”
The detective was middle-aged with blunt features and salt and pepper hair. Talia and the Counterstrike team had worked with him on a previous case, one that had landed his nephew in jail. She wasn’t too sure how he’d escaped disciplinary action for his part in trying to save his nephew’s ass. Fast talking and throwing his duplicitous partner under the bus was her best guess.
Brasher blinked at her for a moment before entering the apartment. “That makes two of us. I didn’t associate Luna from Counterstrike with Talia Davis when I caught the case.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll be much help in identifying the perp. I already told Officer Murphy everything I know.”
He rolled his eyes. “I don’t believe that for a minute. You and your team never say more than you’re forced to. If Wolf didn’t know people in high places—” He broke off and eyed her closely. “Probably not relevant to the current investigation. If the break-in was related to a kidnapping case, your buddies would be on hand to defend you.”
“I can take care of myself.” Her smile held a hint of satisfaction. “Let’s just say that punk is hurting worse than I am right now.”
Eloise approached and handed her a steaming mug of tea. “Very true, detective. Talia kicked him between the legs.”
Brasher grimaced. “I’m surprised he got away.”
“I was distracted for a moment. It shouldn’t have happened.” She motioned toward the couch. “Let’s sit down if you insist on making me repeat my story.”
“I’d like to hear your account firsthand.” After she sat, he settled onto a pink upholstered chair and pulled out a notebook. “Don’t leave anything out.”
She repeated her story while he scribbled notes and gave her a couple of skeptical looks.
“Were you armed at the time?”
A resigned sigh slipped out. “Yes. My sidearm is in my daypack. I didn’t discharge it. He kicked my legs out from beneath me when I glanced toward the door. Otherwise, I would have handed him over to the police all wrapped up with a bow.”
“My fault for knocking and distracting her, but I heard a crash and yelling.” Eloise sipped her tea. “I should have known Talia had the situation under control.”
Brasher’s brows shot up. “What happened then?”
“My Sig went flying. The asshole ran out the door, gave Eloise a shove, and took off.”
“What was he after? Do you know?”
“I’ve no clue. I didn’t notice anything missing, and he had plenty of time to take whatever he wanted when he ransacked my apartment.”
The detective pulled a business card from his suit pocket and handed it over. “If you remember anything else, please give me a call.”
“I’ll do that.”
“The forensic team is going through your apartment now. They should be done shortly and will let you know when you can return.” He studied her for a moment. “You have the beginnings of a nasty bruise on your face. You’re sure you don’t want medical attention for that?”
“If the pain doesn’t ease with ibuprofen, Patch will take a look at it for me.”
“That’s right. Counterstrike has their own doctor on staff.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll be in touch if we find this guy.”
“You don’t sound super optimistic.” Talia swallowed the last of her tea and set the cup on the coffee table.
“Unless forensics recovers a set of prints, we don’t have a lot to go on. Do you know if he was wearing gloves?”
“Not when he attacked me. Maybe he was when he searched my place earlier. At the very least, he should have left prints on the doorknob.”
Brasher nodded. “Take care of yourself, Luna.” He headed toward the kitchen where the fragrant scent of garlic and tomato sauce wafted from the pan Eloise stirred on the stove. After speaking with her for a few minutes, the detective handed her one of his business cards and left.
“Ready to eat?” Her neighbor flashed a bright smile.
Talia’s stomach growled. “It smells delicious. Thanks for feeding me.”
“Happy to.”
A half hour later, they’d finished the simple meal of pasta and salad and cleaned the kitchen. After an officer gave her the all clear to return to her apartment, she hugged Eloise. “You’re the best.”
Her elderly friend patted her cheek. “What are neighbors for? Would you like some help cleaning your apartment?”
“Thanks, but I doubt I’ll do much more than clear a path to my bed tonight.”
Eloise walked her to the door. “You let me know if they catch that animal.”
“I certainly will. Good night, Eloise.”
The hallway was eerily quiet as she entered her apartment. Standing in the middle of the chaos, a deep sigh escaped as she wondered where to begin. Finally, she squared her shoulders and bent to scoop up an armful of clothes. She’d made decent progress when a light knock sent her spinning around to stare at the door, heart thumping.
“Idiot. That creep wouldn’t announce his return,” she muttered.
Once her pulse steadied, she checked the peephole. The distorted image of the back of a man’s head and shoulders was visible. Brown hair and a leather jacket. Not the hoody wearing thug, unless he’d changed his clothes. With a shrug, she decided to take a risk, unlocked the door, and opened it.
Wyatt Stone turned and gave her a hesitant smile before it faded as his eyes widened. “Jesus, Talia. What the hell happened to you?”
She stared at him, feeling like a cartoon character with a lightbulb flashing on over her head. “The spoon. He was after my freaking spoon!”
“What are you talking about? Who—”
“The asshole who gave me these bruises, that’s who.” She turned and stalked back into her apartment. “If you’re coming in, shut the damn door behind you.”
Chapter Six
Wyatt closed the door, set his carry-on bag next to it, and looked around the apartment, feeling as if he’d stepped into a crime scene—minus the yellow tape. Papers and office supplies littered the floor near several upended desk drawers. Clothes were heaped on the foot of the bed located in an alcove at the back of the large room. Only the kitchenette seemed to be in relative order.
Talia followed the direction of his gaze. “I already cleaned the kitchen and put away most of my clothes. I haven’t gotten to the desk yet, and there’s a film of gray powder everywhere since the CSI team dusted for prints.”
“Someone broke into your apartment?”
“The bastard trashed the place but didn’t take anything. He came back after I got home, presumably to get some answers.” She touched the side of her face. “We had a bit of a scuffle.”
“The intruder punched you?” He clenched his hands at his sides.
“A couple of times, but I kicked him in the balls. He probably feels worse than I do.”
A chill slid through him as the enormity of the danger she’d been in hit home. “The man got away?”
“Unfortunately.” She waved toward the couch. “Have a seat.”
“Or I can help you clean up instead.” He gripped the back of a chair. “You mentioned the spoon? Did he steal it?”
Ominous Legacy (Counterstrike Book 4) Page 7