by J C Paulson
“Ah, yes. Pesky criminals. And we feel this warrant should be executed with haste, of course? Do we fear the doctor will leave town in the dark of night?”
“We hope to remove his passport from his possession,” said Sanj, “if he comes before the court and makes bail.”
“Right. Possible flight risk, then. Well, he is very rich. Let us look at the facts of the case so far. The dentist decides to have an extra-marital affair with one of his employees. She chucks him for an unknown reason; his ego is damaged. Then he kills her three or four months later? And her dog? It seems unlikely timing. And a thin motive, although that’s beside the point.”
“Agreed,” said Sanj. “Still, perhaps he was experiencing a slow burn. Or, perhaps she threatened to expose their relationship? Maybe blackmail? And he does drive a vehicle much like, if not exactly like, the SUV seen speeding down the alley, which hit a Smart Car and killed its driver. We hope it will be both crimes solved for the price of one warrant. If we can find his vehicle. We have little hope without bringing him in.”
The judge chewed on her lip for a moment.
“Mm hmm,” she muttered. “Constable Weatherall? Sergeant Davis? Anything to add?”
“No, Your Honour,” said Adam. “Just that the police force is extremely anxious to move quickly on solving this murder.”
“More anxious than usual?”
“Yes, Your Honour.”
“Why is that? Are all lives not created equal?”
“Yes, Your Honour. However, this was a particularly grisly and violent murder, and we have some early indications suggesting Ms. Hilliard’s attacker may have killed before. This leads us to worry he may do so again.”
The judge’s eyebrows rose.
“Early indications? Such as?”
“There are three young women, one having been sexually assaulted and two who are missing, who are remarkably similar to Ms. Hilliard in age, appearance and size, as well as hair colour and style.”
“I see. Well done, but that’s not enough to legally sway my decision on the warrant. It could be coincidence. It says here Ms. Hilliard was stabbed. When you say particularly grisly?”
“She was stabbed at least a dozen times, and almost exsanguinated, Your Honour,” said James. “We’re awaiting the autopsy for an accurate count on the knife wounds. We also believe she was raped.”
“Good heavens,” said Judge Sutherland, stunned out of her slightly sarcastic style of communicating with law enforcement.
“You have your warrant, gentlemen,” she said, after a moment, signing the papers. “Go get him.”
*****
Charlotte, James and Joan arrived at Don Dunlop’s home at six o’clock. This time, he was home.
“Donald Dunlop,” said Charlotte, when he opened the door. “We have a warrant for your arrest. You will have to come with us.”
“Let me call my lawyer,” said Dunlop, turning around to find a phone. Charlotte took the excellent opportunity to cuff him.
“You can call him from the police station,” she said.
Just then, Dunlop’s wife came flying down the hallway. “What the hell is going on? Don?”
“Call Sealey,” said Dunlop. “Now. Get him down to the cop shop.”
“What have you done, Don?”
“Nothing. Ashley, shut up and fucking call Richard Sealey.” Charlotte and James half-dragged him down the steps. “Go. Call him now.”
James ducked Dunlop’s head into the back of the waiting cruiser, and followed him in. Charlotte got into the passenger seat, and Joan put her foot on the gas pedal.
But Ashley Dunlop waited an hour before calling Richard Sealey. He didn’t answer his cellphone, and by then, he had long since left the office.
*****
The next morning, Adam was standing in a security lineup at the Los Angeles airport, chewing his lip. He had managed to get a flight to Vancouver on an American airline, but a connection to Saskatoon was still, well, up in the air.
Damn, hell, damn, hell, swore his brain. Having to cancel the romantic getaway was just about killing him; now, he would be delayed getting back to Saskatoon as well.
He texted Grace and vented some of his frustration.
“Can’t wait to see u. Still working on flight home, damn it.”
“Hold on, Adam,” came Grace’s response, from Calgary airport. But he didn’t know that.
Grace had had more luck with the airlines; she had managed to get a flight to Vancouver. There was the Calgary layover, but she had pulled it off. And she had landed a suite in the Pan Pacific Hotel, overlooking the bay. Luck was not with Adam, nor their trip to California; but with some help from a travel agent, Grace had moved a mountain or two.
She had carefully chosen a mid-length, light summer dress, white with slender green sprigs and tiny, hazy purple flowers. It was one of the coolest things in her closet, and she was getting sick of melting. If it was chilly on the airplane, she would throw a lavender pashmina around her shoulders.
In her luggage lurked a bathing suit and a fancy dress, also white but with a soft, powder-blue design. And carefully, on top, folded into tissue paper, her new champagne-coloured silk nightgown, edged in lace around the plunging bodice. Her fingers had trembled a bit as she tucked it into the suitcase, wondering what Adam’s reaction might be when he saw her wearing it. She sat down suddenly on a bench in the Calgary airport connections area, overcome by the thought, and checked her watch. In two hours, she would see Adam again.
*****
Adam’s phone buzzed, just before boarding.
“James. What’s up?” Adam asked.
“I’m slapping myself upside the head,” he said. “I bet Dunlop’s SUV was serviced at Luxury Motors. Porsche store.”
Of course, thought Adam.
“Good idea. Are you calling Luxury this morning?”
“Yeah. I know the owner.”
“Great. When are you talking to Dunlop?”
“Not sure. As soon as he reaches his lawyer.”
“Okay. Keep me in loop.”
“When do you hit the ground in Vancouver?”
“At one. No word on a Saskatoon flight yet. I hope to know when I land.”
“Sounds good. Later.”
That morning in the shower, Adam had tried to let the water sluice away his misery over having to cancel the trip he had planned to Mendocino, hoping it would also calm his nerve endings. He was already a little alarmed at the way his body was reacting in anticipation of seeing Grace again. God, how long would it be before they were together again?
He felt tightness in his chest and groin. He turned the water to cold, and braced himself against the blast. Grace, you have turned me into an animal with the sexual control of a teenager. What is it about you?
He knew he was crazy in love with her. When could he tell her? He had to tell her. He was finished with hiding his feelings, bricking up his life in an effort to protect himself. He wanted her in his life, completely. Every inch of her. All of her, all the time. He had to know if she wanted him, too.
The word love had come up many times in their brief relationship, but there had not been personal declarations. Adam felt it would have been disrespectful and flippant to say such a thing only three weeks after starting their relationship. He wanted Grace to know how he felt, but he needed her to believe it, to take him seriously. How could she, after just a few weeks?
Did she feel remotely the same way?
Let her love me, too, God, or whoever is in charge up there, thought Adam, looking skyward.
Then his body reminded him it also loved her, icy shower notwithstanding. Get me home, he thought, in a thickening haze of desire.
*****
Grace climbed onto the plane to Vancouver with her heart pounding. I made it, she thought. I made it. I have actually pulled this off. I am going to see Adam in two hours.
By the time she was close to landing, it wasn’t just her heart giving her discomfort. Grace’s mouth was dry, and she wa
s so sexually wet, she wondered how she was going to manage getting through the airport and to the hotel. Good Lord, she thought, what is happening to me? You’d think this was the very first time.
She asked the flight attendant for a glass of water, downed it in three gulps and requested more. She wanted to be able to speak to Adam, and preferably kiss him, when she saw him.
The jet went into its final approach, and landed reasonably gently on the tarmac. Once the doors opened, she was swept along with the other passengers, down the plane’s aisle, up through the ramp and into the airport. Once she had her luggage, she ducked into a bathroom, took a peek at her hair and face, mopped herself up a bit, and squared her shoulders.
Grace tried to take a deep breath. Pull it together, she scolded herself. Right now. Do not embarrass yourself or this beautiful man in the middle of an airport surrounded by thousands of people.
She slung her purse onto her shoulder, grabbed the handle of her suitcase, lifted her chin and strode through the doors to the greeting area.
Grace stood in the waiting area, legs trembling, wondering if Adam’s flight would be on time. What he would think when he saw her. What would happen next . . .
And there he was, right there. Walking through the glass doors.
She couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe how beautiful he was. In his light blue denim shirt and dark blue jeans, hair longer than it had been when he left, curling back slightly on the sides . . . he was breathtaking. And he might, just might, be hers.
He strode out the door and a few steps toward her, then stopped. He had clearly seen her, but he froze in mid-step.
Grace walked up to him smiling a little, still shaking a little. He didn’t move, not at all; he simply stood there, staring at her . . . was he all right?
And then Grace saw the naked hunger in his eyes, the irises black with emotion and desire.
“Adam,” she said, and pressed her body into his, her lips against his, not giving a damn about embarrassing herself or Adam or anyone else in the bloody airport.
*****
Adam thought he might be dreaming, or perhaps hallucinating. After a few seconds, though, he was pretty sure that the woman in front of him was actually Grace. The apparition smiled at him. Yes. Most definitely Grace.
His body was paralyzed, but his eyes couldn’t look at her hard enough. With her tumbled, wild dark-auburn hair, her magnolia skin, and in her flowing dress, she reminded him of a crazy, beautiful, windblown wildflower. Delicate but strong, exotically-coloured, infused with nectars and scents he wanted to drink and inhale. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even register he was overcome.
I am a grown man, he told himself. I am a large, fairly intelligent and fierce law enforcement officer. I can handle this.
Still he didn’t move.
Another step and she was right in front of him, chocolate-coloured eyes gazing into his own, and he knew what she saw there. He heard her say his name over the blood thudding in his ears; felt her body pressing into him, her lips on his. Galvanized, finally, he opened his mouth with a low moan, slipped his arms around her waist and shoulders, and they melted together, kissing madly before hundreds of amazed and smiling witnesses.
They finally broke apart, and Adam buried his face in Grace’s neck, still holding her tightly.
“Grace,” he said quietly in her ear. “You . . . my God. You beautiful thing. I can’t believe I’m holding you right now. What are you doing here?”
“I thought I could salvage at least one night of our . . . vacation. I can’t believe it either.”
“Let’s get out of here, before I do something crazy.”
Adam grabbed Grace’s hand and led her to the luggage carousel, where his suitcase was already going around and around in a lonely circle.
As he reached over to grab it, his phone buzzed. He hauled the bag to the ground, and checked his phone, apologizing to Grace as he did. It was a text from James.
“Full autopsy report tomorrow,” it read. “But McDougall says S. Hilliard pregnant.”
Chapter Fourteen
Hell. Was he ever going to find time to forget about work? About violence and misery and death? About the missing and the murdered people he had not been able to protect? Could there be even one day of peace?
Adam immediately started the process of compartmentalizing. It had taken a long time, but after being shot six years ago he had slowly learned to put his thoughts into the appropriate mental boxes — with help from his psychologist. At least, that worked when he was awake; his subconscious was not as easily managed, as his nightmares demonstrated.
There is no way, thought Adam, I am letting this case beat me up right now. Not today. Not tonight. It can play havoc with me when I get back. Not. Now. Now is Grace.
He texted James back. “Let me know when report is in. Will chat then.”
The other issue facing him, more immediately than he expected, was what he could tell Grace about the case and what he could not. He had a slightly sick feeling the conversation would be, if not tense, certainly intense.
Adam turned back to Grace, to see her looking at him with a soft, sympathetic expression.
“Adam, it’s all right,” she said, reading his mind on his face. “I know you’ll be interrupted by work. This is a horrific case, and it will move along whether we want it to or not. And we’ll have to talk about what we can share. But I’m here, and you’re here, and we’ll find time together tonight.”
He was starting to see into Grace’s soul — a complex and sympathetic soul, he thought, with wisdom and comfort and acceptance tucked inside. How she melded it all with her determined personality and her sexual passion, he had no idea; but he couldn’t wait to figure it out.
Adam relaxed a bit — mentally, at least — although still he worried. Right now, physically and emotionally, he wanted to crawl inside her.
“Thanks for that. God, you don’t know how much I appreciate it. Let’s try to forget about this case at least for a few hours.”
Adam was suddenly stumped. Grace smiled, interpreting the question in his eyes.
“I booked a room at the Pan Pacific.”
His mouth curved into a smile as his eyes softened, registering relief.
“You did? How did you pull this off?”
“Luck, mostly. But we’ll have to find lunch before check-in. It’s too early for that.”
Damn, thought Adam. “Let’s go find some food.”
They chose a seafood restaurant near the hotel, a place Grace had dined at in the past and enjoyed. Climbing into a cab, they travelled into the heart of Vancouver, dropped their luggage with the hotel’s concierge, and went on to the restaurant.
“How did you get here, if I couldn’t get a flight to Saskatoon?” Adam asked Grace as they walked.
“There’s some huge agricultural biotech conference going on at home. So, all flights coming in are booked, but I got one out. It starts today, so we should be okay tomorrow. Good luck getting a hotel room back home, too. It’s a madhouse downtown.”
Adam nodded. Thank you, conference, he thought. At least I get one day with Grace.
He hadn’t eaten since five in the morning, but even so, he had trouble finding his appetite once at the restaurant. His hunger for Grace had long since outraced his hunger for food. Stay patient, he told himself. Be calm.
He watched her pink lips delicately envelop salmon and tuna sashimi, declare them delicious, sip a glass of white wine. She smoothed back her hair, unsuccessfully as always, and laughed at something Adam said.
Get me out of here, thought Adam, wolfing down the rest of his lunch.
*****
“We should go and check in,” Grace suggested when they had finished their meal. “Would you rather wander around first, though?”
No damn way, thought Adam.
“No, let’s go and check in. I should really see if I have a flight yet.”
They checked in as Adam also checked his email, and found
a porter, who was apparently unwilling to give up his grip on their bags. Up the elevator, down the hall, into the expansive — and expensive — suite, and they still weren’t alone. Adam finally tipped the man, showed him firmly to the door and closed it behind him.
He turned, looked at Grace, and realized he felt unsure about what to do next. He didn’t know if Grace wanted to unpack first, or explore their surroundings, or make love. And somehow, what he said or did next seemed crucial to setting the tone not just for today, but perhaps for a long time into the future. Besides, they had only been together, whenever possible, for three weeks before the enforced twelve days apart; he couldn’t presume, despite the electrical current snapping between them.
He walked slowly back to Grace and stood a foot away, looking into her face but not touching her. Honesty, maybe, would work.
“I’ve been craving you, Grace. Now you’re here and . . . I need to ask you, do you want me? Now? I want you so badly I can’t think. God, Grace, tell me what you want.”
He could see Grace swallow hard, her face flush pink. She took the small step between them, lifted the skirt of her dress, took Adam’s hand in hers and slipped it between her legs. She was wet, silky and warm; Adam closed his eyes and tried to breathe. She was always doing some erotic thing that surprised him, made him come apart.
“Don’t you know yet, Adam? I wake up wanting you. I fall asleep wanting you. I . . .”
The sentence would never be spoken. Adam was undone. Her words swirled in his brain as he stopped them with his mouth. As one hand caressed her, the other held her. He felt her quiver and released her mouth; his lips travelled down her slender neck, seeking her breast. Pulling down the sleeve of her dress, he found the taut end and tugged gently.
Grace’s head went back and he felt her arch against his arm.
“Adam, stop. Adam . . .” she said, trying to step backward.
“No,” said Adam, holding her tightly. “No. Stay with me, Grace.”
“I’m . . . oh, God, Adam . . .”