The Good Samaritan

by Price, Melynda

  So beautiful... His dick grew hard at the sight of her. From the shadows, he ran the heel of his palm down his erection.

  Her CRV chirped, headlights flashing, cutting into the darkness as she backed out of her parking spot. He squinted at the blinding brightness and shrunk back into the shadows. He’d have to be more careful in the future. He wasn’t ready to tip his hand.

  A replacement would just have to do for now. Ah, there she was. The CRV pulled away as the cute lab tech with the long dark hair stepped out of the elevator and headed across the ramp. Her attention was fixed on her cell as she walked toward her car, oblivious to the danger that awaited her.

  He watched as she unlocked her car and tossed her purse into the passenger seat before climbing in. He listened for the click-click-click as she turned the ignition over once—twice. Stepping out of the shadows, he casually rounded the concrete pillar, stopping a non-threatening distance away.

  “You havin’ car trouble?”

  She looked at him and smiled with recognition. The relief flooding her face almost caused a niggle of guilt for what he was about to do. Almost.

  She cracked the window to answer him. “Yeah, my car won’t start. I think the battery’s dead.”

  “I could take a look at it if you want me to.”

  “That would be great.”

  She pulled her release and he approached the front of the car, lifted the hood, and peered inside. “I think I might have found your problem. You got a pair of jumper cables?”

  “In the trunk,” she called from the driver’s seat.

  “Would you mind grabbing them? I’ll hook them up and go get my car.”

  She hesitated a moment, then the car door opened. He reconnected her battery and waited for the lab tech to come around the front of the car. Slipping his hand into his jacket, he wrapped his hand around the taser. “Right here’s your problem.” He waved her a little closer and pointed inside the engine.

  She peered in at the engine and with a flash of his hand he pressed the taser into her neck. The snap, crackle, and pop of 50,000 volts sent her crumpling to the floor.

  “You’re far too trusting,” he tisked, pocketing the taser and pulling out a syringe. Uncapping it with his teeth, he stuck the needle into her thigh and injected the Ketamine. Recapping the syringe, he slipped it into his pocket and retrieved two industrial-size zip-ties, binding the woman’s wrists and ankles. He shut the hood and hoisted her over his shoulder, depositing her into the trunk of her car. After slamming the lid, he slipped into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and pulled away.

  Easy peasy...

  * * *

  Sawyer’s buzzing cell roused him from a restless sleep. He was often plagued with insomnia when working a case, victims haunting his dreams with demands for justice. But oddly enough, it wasn’t the dead keeping him awake tonight, but thoughts of a certain doctor with unforgettable emerald eyes—sharply intelligent, keenly intuitive eyes.

  His cell vibrated again and he grabbed it off the side table, noting the time as he swiped his thumb across the screen to open the slew of text messages. Too early for this to be anything but bad news.

  His brother stirred in the chair across the room and stretched into a lazy sprawl. Hunter had been camped in that corner for the last three days. Sawyer had told him it wasn’t necessary to stay here and play nursemaid. He’d promised him he wasn’t going to die if he left, but his brother was a stubborn Marine and trying to change his course, once set, was like pissing in the wind.

  “You gonna get that, man?” Hunter sat forward and scrubbed his hands over his face, trying to wake up.

  “Yeah.” He opened the message and growled a sharp curse.

  We’ve got another one

  “What’s the matter?” Hunter stood and stretched his back, the sharp pop of shifting vertebrae echoing across the room.

  Where? Sawyer shot the message to his partner before answering. “They found another body.”

  Hidden Falls- 1415 Mississippi River Blvd. S.

  Another park. Sawyer didn’t have to ask. He knew the car would be burned out with the vic inside. “Go find my nurse and tell her I need to get out of here.”

  Wait there. I’m on my way.

  He shot back the text and tossed the covers aside. By the time Hunter returned with his nurse, Sawyer was already out of bed and stripping off his gown. When the sleeve got tangled in his IV line, he ripped that out too. Amid her protests, the nurse bandaged his bleeding arm and it dawned on him that his clothes had been cut off in the ER.

  “Give me one of your shirts,” he told his brother, holding out his free hand. Hunter stripped off his flannel, leaving him in an army green military issue USMC t-shirt. He tossed it to him before heading to the closet to retrieve Sawyer’s shoes. The hospital-issued pajama pants were going to have to suffice.

  “Mr. Gerrard, you shouldn’t be leaving yet.”

  The nurse’s protests fell on deaf ears. His only thoughts were of catching a killer.

  Chapter 4

  Sawyer’s partner, Cade Peterson, was waiting for them at the park entrance when Hunter pulled up beside the unmarked police car. Sawyer had the door open before the SUV was fully stopped. As he gimped around to the front of the car, his partner gave him a sweeping glance then did a double take when he eyed Sawyer’s get-up.

  “You look like shit.”

  “Thanks, Peterson.” He crutched over to his smart-ass partner. “You head inside yet?”

  “Nah, I waited for you. Forensics is already in there doing their thing. Figured I’d let them finish first.”

  Yeah, unfortunately they both knew what the BCA was going to turn up. The same thing as the other two cases. Jack shit. “All right then,” Sawyer grumbled, hating like hell this part of the job. “Let’s do this.”

  The acrid scent of charred flesh and heavy smoke burned Sawyer’s lungs as he peered into the late-model Ford Escort. The vic was sitting in the driver’s seat, burned beyond recognition. The only thing identifiable now was dental records. But there were some things Sawyer didn’t need to wait on a preliminary report to know: a.) this was a single, white female, age twenty-five to thirty. b.) toxicology report would find Ketamine in her system. And c.) they had a fucking serial killer on their hands. His gut churned with the knowledge they’d lost another one.

  “I thought you were still in the hospital,” Troy Baxter, head of forensics, called as he rounded the car.

  “I was. Been discharged. What’ve you got?”

  “A mess, that’s what we’ve got. The Fire Department put the blaze out. What evidence wasn’t burned up was probably washed away. Just like the other two, the fire was started by an external source using gasoline as the accelerant. You can see by the burn pattern, the fire spread from the rear forward. There is hardly any engine damage, but everything else is fried, which indicates an accelerant was likely used inside the vehicle, as well. We’ll know more after lab analysis, but as far as DNA goes, don’t hold your breath.”

  Baxter was starting to sound like a broken record. “Same shit, different location,” Sawyer grumbled.

  “Wish I had better news for you, Gerrard.”

  Yeah, so did he.

  “Hey, how’s Sam?”

  “He’s good. Gonna pick him up from the vet when I’m done here. Then I’m heading to the station. Give me a call if anything new or unusual pops up.”

  “Captain’s going to be pissed you’re back to work already.”

  “Not as pissed as I am that we’ve got another dead girl in the park,” Sawyer shot back. “You run the plates?” he asked Peterson.

  His partner glanced up from his notepad. “Car belongs to an Amanda Kennedy. Last known contact was 0330 this morning. She was texting her boyfriend as she left work, told him she was on her way home. Never made it. He called the police to report her missing at 0500, got a call at 0530 from a jogger who spotted the fire.”

  “She left work at 0330? From where?”

>   “Boyfriend said she’s a lab tech at Ramsey Hospital.”

  Sawyer’s gaze locked on his partner. “Contact security. Find out which parking ramp she was in and start looking at tapes ASAP.” As he threw out orders, he couldn’t help thinking of Sam’s doctor and how easily this could have been her.

  “Already on it. Tyson’s there now pulling surveillance footage, but it’s pretty much limited to entrance and exits. Probably the most we’re going to get is proof that her car left the ramp and what time.”

  “It’s a start. Any contact with the family yet?”

  “Just the boyfriend and we haven’t told him.”

  “I see Dresky’s running interference with the news crews. They’re chomping at the bit to get down here, but they’ve got the area blocked off pretty well. The family doesn’t need to hear about this from the six o’clock news. Won’t be long before they start throwing out the ‘S’ word and putting the public in a panic.”

  “Three young women found torched in their cars, all left in state parks, doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect those dots.”

  “Nope. It doesn’t.”

  “You think they’re dead before he’s lighting them up?”

  Sawyer met and held his partner’s stare. “I sure as hell hope so.”

  * * *

  “Gerrard? What in the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the goddamn hospital.”

  Sam knew that tone as well as Sawyer. Lifting his head, he gave Sawyer a wary look from his mat beside his desk. Before heading to the office, Sawyer had stopped by the veterinary hospital to pick Sam up. He was anxious to see his partner and knew how much Sam despised being kenneled. Not that he blamed the dog after what he’d been through as a pup, but in hindsight, he probably should have taken him home first.

  Cade shot Sawyer a shit-eating grin from across his desk.

  “My office. Now.”

  At least the captain was going to do him the courtesy of not ripping him a new asshole in front of the entire department. He pushed his chair back and grabbed his crutch. Sam started to get to his feet, moving about as fast as Sawyer. “Stay, Sam. No sense in both of us getting our asses chewed.”

  The dog settled back on the mat as Sawyer crutched into the captain’s office and closed the door behind him.

  “You’re supposed to be on medical leave.” He dropped into his chair and scooted closer to his desk. “So, imagine my surprise when I went to the hospital this morning and found out you’d left AMA. Then I come to work and guess who’s here.”

  “I appreciate the concern, but I’m fine, Captain.”

  “You were shot—in the line of duty. You’re on a mandatory four-week medical leave, starting today. If I see your ass in this office before then, I’m going to suspend you. Go home, Gerrard—relax and recuperate. The world is still going to be a shit-hole in need of saving a month from now.”

  “I can’t just walk away from this case. Sam and I have bled for it. That bastard took another woman last night. We need to find this guy before anyone else gets hurt. You know you need me on this case. Let me work it from home and Peterson can do all the leg work.”

  Captain didn’t look pleased, but Sawyer knew he’d won his argument when the guy growled a ripe curse and dragged his hand through his thinning hair. It’d probably gotten that way from moments like this.

  “All right, you can work the paperwork end of it. Sign out a laptop and take your files home. Now get off that leg and give that poor dog of yours some rest.”

  “Yes, sir.” They both knew he wasn’t going to keep his ass at home, but the Captain had done his due diligence and was off the hook where HR was concerned.

  Thoughts of the hospital needled him as he drove home. It was a personal insult to injury that while he’d been there in bed sleeping, some demented fuck had been in the parking garage taking Amanda Kennedy. Her last known well had been 3:30 a.m. That was the same time Dr. Rhodes had been getting off work. How many staff had been leaving at that time, and what were the chances Kennedy was random? Had she been planned or convenient?

  That speculation had him thinking of Dr. Rhodes and their conversation yesterday. He’d warned her that leaving at that time wasn’t safe. Where the fuck were their security officers? Were they available to the staff for escort? Of course, if he were to ask them, they’d give him all the right answers to cover their asses. Peterson would be talking to them, but it’d be helpful to talk to the staff.

  Rhodes came to mind again, and a shiver of concern ran through him. He should talk to her—one professional to another, of course—and warn her to keep her head up. She could also answer some of his questions regarding employee practices and staff security. The thought of seeing her again pleased him more than it probably should, but that was neither here nor there. He had a killer to catch.

  Chapter 5

  Sawyer crutched to the emergency department security desk, flashed his badge, and asked for Dr. Rhodes. The officer at the desk made a call to locate her and informed him she was on break at the cafeteria. He followed the signs to the second floor and spotted her sitting by herself at a small table. Earbuds in place, no doubt to drown out the sound around her, Emma’s attention was fixed on the cell in her hand.

  As Sawyer approached, he took a moment to admire her profile. Long raven hair piled on top of her head in a messy topknot, she wore the disheveled look well—a little too well. Her features were fine, delicate, except for her mouth. Her lips were too full to fit her pixie-perfect appearance. They made a man think of things he had no business thinking about—especially on the clock.

  When he limped into her line of sight, Emma glanced up, giving him a surprised smile. After pausing whatever was playing on her phone, she tugged the buds from her ears and wrapped the cords around the cell before shoving it into her scrub pocket.

  “Detective Gerrard…”

  “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought you signed out AMA.”

  Flashing her a guilty grin, it pleased him more than it should that she would know this. “Keeping tabs on me, Doctor?”

  Her cheeks flushed. The color looked good on her. “Sorry to disappoint you. Trauma Services keeps us updated on the status and disposition of all our patients. Your name was on the list. Why didn’t you just wait to be discharged?” But then her smile faded. “Is it Sam? Is he all right?”

  Sawyer nodded. “He’s good. Mind if I sit?”

  Her vibrant green eyes dropped to his leg, concern knitting her brows. “Umm…sure. Is there something I can help you with, Detective Gerrard?”

  “Sawyer… After everything we’ve been through, I’d say it puts us on a first name basis. I was hoping I could ask you a few questions about a case I’m working on. May I call you Emma?”

  She acquiesced with a slight nod of her head but seemed a little nervous. He took the seat across from her and smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “Thank you again, for everything you did for Sam.”

  “I’m glad he’s okay. You two are obviously very close. Do you have a human partner as well?” she asked, taking a sip of her latte.

  He wasn’t expecting her to turn the topic of conversation on him. Emma was an inquisitive woman, and he liked that about her. She intrigued him. Under different circumstances… He shut down that train of thought before it could take root and answered the question. “I have one of those too. Like the dog better,” he added, giving her a teasing wink.

  “He must be an amazing animal. How long have you had him?”

  “Sam’s been with me since he was a pup. I was working SWAT a few years back and we raided a crack house. Turned out they were into more than just drugs and had a basement full of dogs they were fighting—mostly Pits and Shepherds. I found Sam chained up in the corner. He was just a puppy, no more than nine-months-old. I’ll never forget the way he looked at me that night. I can’t really explain it. It was like he was resigned to his fate. But there was no fear, j
ust acceptance and courage. He was a tough little guy. Most of the dogs had to be put down, some from injuries, some from malnutrition. Others were too aggressive and couldn’t be rehabilitated. When they came for Sam, I couldn’t let animal control take him.

  “I brought him home, put some weight on him, and once he was healthy, I submitted him into the K-9 program to see if he’d qualify for police training. He had the best numbers of his class, but he refused any handler but me. They were going to kick him out if I didn’t go through the training with him. So, that’s how I became a K-9 Officer, and Sam’s been my partner ever since. He saved my life twice. When I got promoted to detective in the homicide division last year, he transferred with me.”

  “Sam’s a real hero, huh?”

  “Best partner I ever had.”

  “So, how does a homicide detective end up getting shot in a crack house?”

  How did she know where he’d been shot? She must have read his expression because she responded with an answer before he could ask.

  “EMS report. It listed the address you’d been picked up from and I recognized it. I guess I always thought of detective work as being more—”

  “Pencil pushing?” he offered, raising a quizzical brow.

  Emma laughed. “I was going to say safer.”

  “I guess that depends on the case and where the investigation leads. There’s a lot of leg-work and desk jockeying with this one. I’ve been put on medical leave for the next month, so it looks like I’ll be investigating this case from home.”

  “But you’re here…” she challenged.

  Sawyer couldn’t resist an amused grin and nodded. “So, I am…”