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DRAINED

Page 26

by Suzanne Ferrell


  * * *

  “How’s she doing?” Matt asked Katie when she came out of Paula’s room and joined him on the leather sofa.

  “She’s getting stronger and breathing easier,” his wife said, snuggling against him, shoulder to shoulder. She laughed a little. “I don’t know if it’s the breathing treatments, the antibiotics or Nana’s chicken and dumplings that’s healing her.”

  Matt leaned in to nuzzle her neck, inhaling her lemon scented soap. Katie always made clean and citrusy smell sexy. “Mmm, I think it might be her excellent nursing care.”

  She giggled and his ego did a high-five that he was the one who brought that sound from her. Before they’d met he didn’t think she’d ever laughed. These days he made it his life mission to bring smiles and laughter to her days.

  “You might be just a little bit prejudiced,” she said. “Anyways, she’s asleep now with Stanley curled up beside her. Reminded me of Russell when he’s finally gone down and hugs his stuffed bear close. Completely at peace with no worries. Safe.”

  The wistful sadness in her voice touched him deep. “She is safe and so is our son. I talked with my mother while you were seeing to your patient. She says he’s been busy, and she wonders how she ever kept up with my brothers, sister, and me at that age.”

  “I have to admit, I’ve felt a little less worn out myself the past few days. Almost like I’m on vacation.” She paused. “Does that make me a horrible mother?”

  “No,” he hurried to reassure her. “You’re a fantastic mom and Russell loves you. But little toddler boys are a handful. Just think how much fun we’ll have when we get home and have rested. I’m thinking a trip to the cabin might be in order.”

  “I like that. You know how much I love that cabin, hiking in the woods, fishing in the creek.” She rested her head against his shoulder. “You know this place reminds me of the cabin. The wood trim, the huge river stone fireplace. It’s not a bad place to recuperate. Paula’s lucky Castello loaned it to us. From what she’s said and what Brianna told me, her place is not in a very safe area of town and in need of repairs. It’s a shame she’ll have to go back once this killer is found.”

  “Maybe you should have a talk with Frank about that,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, turning her head to stare at him.

  “He’s not in the Marshal’s anymore. And he already has two other safehouses besides this one. Perhaps he could be persuaded to make it a low rent home to help out women from Brianna’s shelter. I’m just saying.”

  “And you think I should be the one to bring this up to the big guy.”

  “Well, he does think of you as his little sister.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and was quiet a while. Matt knew not to push her. All her life Katie had needed to weigh the results of every decision she made—her life more often than not had depended on it—and she’d get to her conclusion without any more pressure from him.

  “You know,” she finally said, “I should be mad at you for trying to use me to manipulate our friend, but in this instance, I’ll forgive you. I think it would be a very good idea, too. And Brianna could sift through the possible candidates to be roommates for Paula.”

  Pleased with himself, he grinned.

  “You can wipe off that smug look,” she said, without turning around. She knew him too well. “We haven’t convinced Castello yet.

  “You will.”

  “Has Aaron or Brianna checked in with you about the dead body they found? Was it our killer?” she asked, already back in serious mode. His wife could handle many things at once and always focus on them as needed.

  “Talked with Aaron just before you sat down. He says it’s our guy. They found a former football player on the stadium steps, dressed in a uniform, cleaned head to toe and drained of nearly all his blood. That’s three bodies inside a week.”

  “Will they be coming back here? Or are they going to be at the crime scene all night?”

  “He said, they’re done at the crime scene and were headed out to notify the victim’s family before it was plastered all over the news.”

  “That’s got to suck.”

  He couldn’t agree more. He’d had to do it a time or two when he was with the State Highway Patrol. Never got used to it. “And then he and Brianna are going in search of a homeless guy they met the other night.”

  “Why?”

  “They’re hoping hearing about this new victim, he might remember more about the journalist who interviewed him.”

  “You mean our killer posing as a journalist.”

  “The same. Aaron said they’d be by in the morning.” He lifted his arm over her shoulders. “That means we’re on our own for the rest of the night.”

  Leaning closer, he claimed her lips in a slow, deep kiss. When he pulled back, she gazed up at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

  “What?”

  “You forget you’re married to a nurse who has a patient in the house. Meds are due at midnight.”

  He pulled her closer with a grin. “Then we’d better get down to business.”

  * * *

  Aaron hadn’t said a word since he’d gotten back into the car outside the Dandridge’s home. He drove them out of the middle-class suburban neighborhood back into the downtown Cleveland area where the homeless lived their lives. Only the flashes of streetlamps and headlights from other cars breaking the dark silence in the car.

  Knowing how horrible a task death notification was, Brianna wanted to comfort him. She also wanted to ask him how the parents took the news their son was murdered and find out what he hoped to gain by talking to Hondo again, but she knew from the tense stillness of his features he wasn’t ready to talk yet. In the years she’d gotten to know him, she’d seen this expression when he worked a tough case. A man of intense emotions and deep-seated honor, he believed it was his duty to find this killer and get justice for the dead and their families. He couldn’t do that until he had his emotions under control and could think clearly. Despite how much she wanted to help him, it was a private matter for him. So staying quiet was her only option.

  They passed the gas station on Cedar where they’d talked with the night manager. A group of people were sitting outside against the abandoned building behind it. Aaron pulled into the lot a moment and studied the group.

  “He’s not here,” he said, sounding a little more in control again.

  “Hondo?” she asked. She knew he was searching for the older man with the scraggly grey beard they’d talked to last night before the storm rolled through.

  “Yeah. I want to show him a picture of Kyle and see if he identifies him as Steroid Kyle, just to be sure.”

  “Could there be more than one former football player named Kyle that’s homeless on the streets?”

  He gave a shrug as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed north on Fifty-fifth street, back in the direction where they talked to Hondo. “It’s protocol. I’m dotting my I’s and crossing my T’s on this one. I don’t want this bastard getting off because of a technicality. Besides, I’m hoping the picture of our third victim will trigger Hondo to give us a better description of the journalist he saw with Art.”

  It took another hour of slowly driving up one side street and then another, but finally the spotted Hondo and his friends huddled by a wall in an abandoned lot across from a metal processing business. Aaron parked the SUV beneath the lone streetlamp on the block and hit the lock button once they were outside. They strolled the few yards up the road to where the group sat huddled against the back wall of an abandoned building, complete with half the windows panes knocked out.

  “You’re back,” Hondo said, struggling to his feet.

  “Afraid so,” Aaron said, shaking hands with the man. He pulled Kyle Dandridge’s college photo from his pocket as Hondo’s friends Yancy and Carmen stood, too. “I was hoping you could take a look at a picture for me and tell me if this is Steroid Kyle?”


  Hondo took the picture and squinted at it in the dim lamplight. “Kinda hard to see him.”

  “Here, let me help.” Brianna quickly pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket and hit the flashlight button, shining it over the picture.

  “That’s mighty handy,” Yancy said, then all three of them took turns holding the picture under the light.

  “That’s Steroid Kyle, alright,” Yancy said.

  “Looks like a kid though,” Carmen said. “Steroid Kyle is a lot older.”

  “It’s the drugs,” Hondo said, handing the photo back to Aaron with a nod of his head. “Ages a person. But it’s him.”

  Aaron slipped the photo back into his coat pocket. “I don’t suppose you’ve remembered anything more about that journalist you saw talking with both Art and Kyle?”

  The trio all exchanged blank looks and shook their heads.

  “The problem was, he was just average looking,” Hondo said.

  Carmen nodded. “Average tall, average size. Weren’t ugly, at least not as ugly as that cap he wore.”

  “What kind of cap?” Aaron asked.

  “You know a blue and yellow striped hat, like the colors of the team up north,” Hondo said.

  Then Carmen smiled at Aaron. “He weren’t pretty like you, neither.”

  Aaron actually blinked at the complement from the homeless woman.

  Brianna bit down on her upper lip to keep from smiling and managed to keep a straight face as they bid the others goodbye.

  “Don’t you dare laugh,” Aaron said as they climbed into the SUV.

  She managed to contain her laughter until they’d cleared the downtown area and were nearer to her townhouse.

  “He weren’t pretty like you,” she said, then doubled forward against her seatbelt, laughing.

  “Well, he wasn’t ugly, either,” Aaron said, sounding a little miffed, but as she wiped the tears from her cheeks and glanced his way, she could see the corner of his mouth twitching to keep from grinning.

  Finally, he pulled into her garage. She didn’t have to ask if he was staying. He simply walked inside with her.

  “Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

  Suddenly, he grabbed her by the hand, twirled her back towards him and held her hard pressed against his body, his mouth slamming down on hers. The kiss sizzled her from her head down to her toes and she gripped his shoulders to steady her suddenly shaky legs. He eased the assault on her lips just enough to reassure her he was in control of his emotions and body, that she was safe with him despite the intensity of this attraction between them.

  Pressing in closer, she moved her hand up to his head and ran her fingers through his thick dark hair, giving him her version of the claiming kiss he’d started, letting him know she needed him right now as much as he needed her. Their tongues meshed in a tango of give and take.

  Finally, he broke it off. Gasping for breath, her lungs crying out for air to keep up with the pounding of her heart she stared up at him.

  “You have one minute to decide,” he said, sliding his lips over her jaw and down the column of her neck that she gave him more access to it by arching her body into his and leaning her head backwards.

  “Decide?” was all she managed to get out as he suckled on that little spot at the place where her neck met her shoulders.

  “Here on the counter or in your bed?”

  As sexy as having sex on the counter always sounded, she’d tried it once and preferred her bed.

  “Bed,” she mumbled just before he reclaimed her lips and was shocked when he gripped her by her butt cheeks and lifted her off her feet. Quickly, she wrapped her legs around his ass and clung to him, hoping they made it to the bed before he dropped her.

  At the bed, he lowered her to her feet, then there was a mad dash to see who could divest themselves of their clothes first. One condom later, she was sprawled on the bed with him deep inside her. With her arms and legs wrapped around his powerful body, she clung to him as he thrust in and out, taking them both on a sensual ride that sent her body higher and higher.

  Moaning into his mouth, she clawed at his back with her nails, desperate to get to that peak, that moment when everything would shatter.

  Then it hit her. She tore her mouth from his and gasped as she clenched around him, moaning her orgasm in his ear.

  Pulling back once more, he thrust as deep as possible into her, sending another ripple of ecstasy through her as he came over the precipice with her.

  “Oh, God. Yes,” he said as he collapsed down upon her.

  She held him to her, letting her hands slide up and down his sweat slicked skin, her heart slowing to its normal steady rhythm. Languid. She was the very definition of the word now. Every muscle in her body relaxed. No need to get up, no need to hurry her lover out the door. Content. That’s how she felt.

  Finally, Aaron stirred, lifting up slowly onto one arm to stare down at her. “You okay?”

  Gazing up at him, she let her eyes and smile tell him just how okay she was as she nodded. “You?”

  “In all my life, I’ve never been better.” With his free hand, he smoothed some damp stray hairs from her forehead, leaned in and kissed her in the same spot. Then he slowly climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom. A moment later, she heard the shower running, grinned and decided to join him.

  When she stepped into the bathroom, she was greeted by the sight of his naked backside through the shower’s glass doors.

  Oh my.

  Was there anything sexier than Detective Aaron Jeffers naked and wet, every muscle defined down to the little cleft between his ass cheeks? Not that she’d ever seen, and she’d seen quite her share of naked men. But they’d meant nothing to her. Nothing like this man did.

  She opened the shower door and stepped inside as he turned to greet her.

  “I was afraid I’d scared you in the kitchen,” he said, as she slid her hands up his wet body.

  “I know. And you didn’t.”

  He smoothed his hands down her wet hair to cup her face. Leaning in, he kissed her again, this time, slow, deliberate, almost cherishingly. “I needed you. This case is so damn much, bodies keep piling up, and then the family tonight.”

  She stepped closer, wrapping her arms tightly around him her head on his shoulder. In all her life she’d never wanted to comfort anyone more than she did this strong man.

  “And then striking out with Hondo and the picture…” The words just drifted into the steam of the hot water pouring over them.

  Reaching for the soap dish on the ledge behind him, she lathered the gardenia scented soap in her hands. With a step back she began washing him, letting her hands work into his muscles front, back and even up his neck. Cleansing, comforting and caring for this man who gave so much to her and to others.

  Then it was his turn. First, he worked shampoo into her hair, his fingers massaging her scalp until she purred. Laughing at the sound, he rinsed her hair, then lathered the soap all over her, his fingers taking the time to trace the scars on her shoulder and arm from her injuries sustained years ago from the depraved Senator and his son. Finally, he leaned in and kissed the microscopic scars around her left eye and cheekbone. More remnants of that horrible time.

  The water grew cold as they held each other.

  “We’d best get some sleep. It’s going to be an ugly day tomorrow,” he whispered, breaking the peaceful spell.

  And he was right. When the news hit the airwaves, they could only pray they caught the man before more tragedy hit.

  31

  The son of a bitch is notifying the news stations now?” Captain Stedaman said as he paced the detective’s room early the next morning. “Any chance he left his name and address with them? Seems to be the only way we’re going to catch this guy.”

  Aaron cringed inwardly at his boss’ sarcastic anger. Brianna and Kirk F sat at a vacant desk behind him, uploading her video from both Art and Kyle’s crime scenes to the station’s computers.
r />   “We’ve contacted all the stations to send us their videos from last night, along with video from the stadium’s security cams,” Jaylon said from his desk.

  “Okay, what else do we know?”

  “Your man wants acknowledgement for what he’s done,” Carson said.

  “Well, hell, why don’t we just send him a congratulations card?”

  Oh, man, the captain was on a roll.

  Brianna let out a soft snicker behind him, thankfully not loud enough for Stedaman to hear.

  “Which means he’s going to get sloppy,” Carson continued as if he hadn’t heard the sarcastic comment. “And he’s made his first mistake.”

  “How so?” Jaylon asked.

  “What was the description your witnesses gave you last night?” Carson asked Aaron.

  “Average.”

  “Right. Average.”

  Stedaman stopped pacing, leaned his hip back against a desk and folded his arms over his chest. “How is that a mistake?”

  Carson pointed to the image of the Browns’ stadium taped to the whiteboard. “He may blend into a crowd, but displaying his latest kill in so open and public a place, even if he managed to conceal his face, his truck or van is going to hit on the video. So, we’ll have a time and place for when your football player was posed.”

  “Plus, we may have caught him on my camera in the crowd,” Brianna said, drawing the captain’s attention to her.

  He arched one brow her direction. “How is that going to help us if we don’t know what he looks like? Probably gonna be lots of average people on that video.”

  “I also got video of the small crowd outside the building where we found Art.”

  “Maybe the same guy pops up on there,” Jaylon said hopefully.

  “It’s a place to start,” Kirk F said.

  Stedaman shifted his attention to him. “And why are you here on a Sunday?”

  “Helping Ms. Matthews upload her videos, sir, and still searching the city’s databases for a building our guy could use to kill his victims and freeze at least one body for months.”

 

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