The Good Samaritan

by Price, Melynda

  “This is three now. We’ve officially got a serial killer on our hands.”

  Sawyer grunted in agreement. He’d known that two dead bodies ago. “Did the tox screen show Ketamine in her system?”

  “Yep. Same as the others. What do you think his motive is?”

  “All three women fit the same profile—young, dark hair, pretty. Their socio-economic status varies so we know that isn’t a contributing factor, which puts us at a disadvantage because it broadens his hunting ground.”

  “Why do you think he’s burning them?”

  That was another good question, and one he’d been puzzling over for a while now. Sawyer had his suspicions, but it was only a guess. “To destroy any DNA evidence.”

  “You think he’s sexually assaulting them then?”

  “Absolutely. He’s using Ketamine to subdue them. I spoke with a doctor today about the drug. She had a lot of helpful information that’s gotten me thinking. The only place Ketamine is readily available is in the hospital. This isn’t a drug circulating in the general public, and the closest thing to it is Rohypnol.”

  “The date rape drug.”

  He gave his partner a curt nod. “Except Ketamine is injectable and works within seconds. The doctor also said it’s hard to overdose on. If his motivation is sexual in nature it would explain the similarities in the women’s looks, the use of the drug, and the destruction of DNA. Burning them would also hide any external evidence of sexual assault.”

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah.”

  Cade pulled into the Kennedy’s driveway and cut the engine. His partner took a deep breath that said more than words could, and dragged his hand through his hair. “You ready?”

  “Not really…”

  Chapter 8

  “Dammit.” Emma swiped her badge over the reader and the light flashed red. “What the hell?” she muttered under her breath and moved it over the sensor a few more times before finally giving up. This was the second time this month her ID had stopped working. Every time it happened, she had to go traipsing up to the security office to get it fixed.

  She was already starting her shift late and was exhausted, having lost precious hours of sleep thinking about Sawyer Gerrard and his case. Though she may not want to admit it, the sexy detective had gotten under her skin. Unfortunately, no matter how many times she played the scenario out in her mind, she kept coming back to the same conclusion. It would never work.

  The revelation saddened her, because for the first time since Matthew had died, she’d felt something she couldn’t describe. The connection they shared ran deeper than just a physical attraction.

  “Hey, Emma.”

  Tension rippled through her at the sound of Blake’s voice, his steps quickening to catch up as she power-walked down the hall. She didn’t have time to deal with him right now. When he popped into her periphery, she could no longer pretend she hadn’t heard him.

  “Hey, Blake.” She forced a smile she hoped didn’t look as fake as it felt.

  “Going the wrong way, aren’t you? The ER is that direction.” He thumbed over his shoulder.

  “My badge isn’t working again. I need to go to the security office to get it reset.”

  “I’ll walk with you. I need parking stamps anyway. Hey, did you hear Mr. LaMotte made it?”

  Tension eased from her shoulders as they slipped into a conversation safe-zone. “Yes, I heard.”

  “His wife was by earlier with a box of cookies and a thank you card.”

  “I’m sorry I missed her. I’ll have to stop by the ICU and say hi.”

  As they approached the security office, Blake caught her arm, pulling her to a stop and sending the fine hairs in the back of her neck prickling to attention. She cast a nervous glance into the office and saw a security officer behind the counter flipping through a magazine.

  “You saved his life, Emma.”

  “ECHMO saved his life. You’re giving me too much credit.”

  He took a step closer and lowered his voice, leaning a shoulder against the doorway and blocking her view of the guard. He knew she was late and yet he acted as if they had all the time in the world. They probably had a handful of patients waiting downstairs and a slew of nurses cursing her a blue streak.

  “We make a great team, Emma. On my recommendation, you could be assured a permanent position here when your residency is completed. You only have, what, a few months left?”

  He knew exactly how much time she had left. And why did it feel like there was a clause to his offer—an undeniably very generous one, at that? Blake held her career in his hands and they both knew it. “I’ve invested a lot in you, Emma.”

  He reached for her hand, gently brushing his thumb over her knuckles, and goose bumps prickled over her flesh. Not like the ones she experienced when Sawyer had touched her the other day in the cafeteria. These sent the fine hairs on the back of her neck rising, fueled by the bold determination harbored in his pale blue stare.

  “I know how you feel about mixing business with pleasure,” he continued. “But you’re not going to be working under me for much longer. And—”

  She didn’t know what to say and resented the uncomfortable position he was putting her in. Thankfully, the security officer saved her from responding.

  “Is there something I can help you with? I start patrol in ten minutes and the office is going to be closed.”

  Emma jerked her hand from Blake’s and turned away, entering with an apology. Her cheeks heated with embarrassment, hoping the security officer hadn’t overheard their conversation. “My badge stopped working again. I’m not sure why this keeps happening, but it’s getting pretty frustrating.”

  The officer raised an unimpressed brow at her complaint. “Your name?”

  She told him as he typed it into the computer.

  “According to our system, your access is working correctly. Can I see your badge?”

  She handed it to him and he looked at the photo, and then at her. Come on, this guy was worse than the freaking TSA. They’d just gone through this same problem last week.

  “This doesn’t look like you.”

  “Well, I assure you it is,” she snapped, no longer attempting to hide her frustration.

  He keyed something into the computer and then re-swiped her badge through a machine

  before handing it back to her. “I reset your access. You really should have that photo updated.

  You can come by between one and two Monday through Friday to have that done.”

  “Thanks.” I’ll get right on that.

  * * *

  The thing about working in the emergency department was that some days you felt second to God, and other days you felt dragged into the deepest pits of hell. Today was the latter of the two. Death was an inevitable part of life. Emma knew that. She couldn’t begin to explain why some people, against all odds, lived and why others didn’t. She was convinced it boiled down to the mighty hand of God and nothing more, because there was no reason Mr. Williams should have died tonight, and no reason Mr. LaMotte should have lived. At any rate, she wasn’t in the frame of mind to be contemplating such mysteries.

  Emma stepped off the third level of the east elevator and burrowed into her coat to fight off the chill. As she headed for her car, her thoughts shifted to Sawyer and the conversation she’d had with him about the missing woman. Why weren’t more security officers being staffed to patrol these ramps and provide escorts? Thirty minutes—that was how long it was going to take for an officer to become available to bring her to her car. It was late, and she was tired and cranky. The last thing she wanted to do was hang around the hospital for another half an hour, just so someone could walk with her.

  She was contemplating lodging yet another complaint with the security department when the high-low whistle echoing through the ramp ground her feet to a stop and her heart leapt into her throat. She strained to listen for approaching footsteps, but all she could hear was the hammering of her
pulse. Her steps quickened until she broke into a full run. Pulling the keys from her pocket, she unlocked the door and jumped into the SUV, slamming it shut and engaging the locks behind her.

  She was shaking so badly it took her two attempts to fit the key in the ignition. Tick, tick, tick. “No. Oh, no, no, no,” she pleaded with her dead battery.

  Emma’s mind raced with her limited options. She could either go back into the building, which would entail leaving the car where she was moderately safe or call someone to come and help get it started. First thing tomorrow she was going to sign up for Triple A. There was no reason her battery should be dead, she’d just replaced it this summer.

  She was trying to decide what to do when movement in the shadows caught the corner of her eye. She needed to call someone. Now. Her gaze fell to the cup-holder where she’d tossed the business card Sawyer had given her, his cell number penned on the back.

  With trembling fingers, Emma dug her phone from her pocket and tried to enter the numbers. Twice she pressed the wrong buttons and had to start over. As she waited for the call to go through, she took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing pulse. Sawyer picked up on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Detective Gerrard?” She tried to keep the panic from her voice but failed miserably.

  “Emma? What’s wrong?” His tone was brisk and tight with concern.

  Maybe she shouldn’t have called. It was the middle of the night. “I’m sorry to bother you, but I—”

  “You’re not bothering me. What’s wrong? Where are you?” he demanded curtly.

  “I’m in the parking ramp at the hospital. My car won’t start, and I think—I think someone’s out there.” Her voice cracked, fear getting the best of her.

  “Stay right where you are, Emma. Don’t get out of the car. I’m on my way.”

  She was breathing so hard the windows were starting to fog up. She couldn’t see outside anymore but she could hear echoing steps. “Please hurry. The footsteps…they’re getting closer,” she whispered urgently. Her heart hammered inside her chest, breaths coming in short, sawing bursts, clouding the frigid air.

  “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be right there. Sam, come.” The command was curt, but his authoritative tone comforted her raw nerves.

  The slam of a car door sounded through the phone followed by the deep rumble of an engine and the squeal of tires.

  “Where are you?” he asked over the wailing siren in the background.

  “Umm…” She needed a moment to think. “I’m, umm…in the east ramp—third-floor.”

  A sharp knock rapped against her driver’s window and a startled scream tore from her throat. She jumped, and her phone fell, landing on the floor between the seat and center console.

  “Emma?” Sawyer shouted, his voice rising faintly from beneath the seat. She reached down, but couldn’t get it, her fingertips grazing the edge of the cell. “Dammit, Emma! Answer me!”

  The knock came against the glass again. This time sharper, more demanding.

  “Emma, it’s me. Open the door.”

  She recognized that voice, and although it may not be her first choice of rescuers, she exhaled a sigh of relief and cleared the frost from the window with her hand, meeting Blake’s stare.

  “You having car trouble?”

  She nodded. “It won’t start. What are you doing here? I thought you left an hour ago.”

  Blake ignored her question and walked around to the front of the car. “Pop the hood and I’ll take a look.”

  She reached under the dash, fingers fumbling to find the release. Perhaps it was residual paranoia, but something didn’t feel right. Blake lifted her hood as she shoved her hand beneath the seat. After a moment of blind searching, she finally retrieved her cell, but the call was disconnected.

  Off in the far distance she could hear the faint whir of a siren and hoped it was Sawyer. She was about to dial him back when Blake called to her from beneath the hood of her car. “I found your problem, Emma. You want to come take a look at this?”

  Emma hesitated. Sawyer told her not to get out of the car. But it was Blake, for crying out loud. She opened the door and the scream of the siren grew louder. “What is it?” she asked, climbing out.

  “Have you had a new battery put in recently?”

  Curiosity had her coming around the front of the car. “No, this summer. Why?”

  “Here,” he said, ushering her closer. “The connection to your battery came loose.”

  She could barely hear the last part, because the siren blared infinitely louder, echoing off the concrete walls. It ended just as abruptly, but the roar of the hemi engine tearing up the ramp and the squeal of cornering tires had Blake giving her a surprised look.

  “What the hell is that?” Blake replaced the battery connection and slammed the hood.

  “It’s Detective Gerrard.”

  “You called him?” The accusation in his voice was sharp and his pale blue eyes darkened. “Seriously, Emma? Getting involved with a patient isn’t like you.”

  “I’m not involved with him, Blake. He’s just a friend. And he was never my patient. He was yours.”

  “You’re a smart woman and a fantastic doctor. I’d hate to see you throw it all away.”

  What the hell is that supposed to mean? Before she could challenge him, the black Charger rounded the corner. Red and blue lights strobed through the ramp as Sawyer hung a sharp left, parking beside Emma’s CRV. The door flew open and he was out of the car a hell of a lot faster than he should be. And where was his crutch?

  Sawyer limped toward her, concern hardening his handsome features, making him look every bit the hard-ass police detective she had no doubt that he was.

  “Emma, what are you doing out of the car? Are you all right?”

  His sharp gaze cut from her to Blake. Observing, assessing, but his expression gave away none of his thoughts.

  Emma nodded.

  “She’s fine,” Blake answered for her, his tone curt. “Just some car trouble but I fixed it. Emma didn’t need to call you. She knows I’m here for her.”

  That may have been true at one time, but his odd behavior lately was starting to make her wonder.

  “And yet she did call me.” There was no misunderstanding the dig in Sawyer’s simply stated response.

  The testosterone in the air was thick enough to gag on. “I appreciate your help, Blake. Thank you for fixing my car.” Emma hoped he would take the hint that his assistance was no longer needed and leave before things got even more awkward.

  “You fixed her car?” Sawyer nodded toward the hood. “What was wrong with it?”

  When Blake gave Sawyer a defiant, stonewall stare instead of an answer, Emma volunteered, “The battery had a loose cable.”

  Sawyer’s glare darkened, the fine lines bracketing his mouth tightened. “I’ll follow you home, Emma. Make sure you get there all right.”

  “Okay.” She might have told him it wasn’t necessary, but honestly she just wanted to get going. The tension between him and Blake was becoming painful. “Thanks again for your help,” she told Blake before getting into the driver’s seat. This time when she turned the key in the ignition, the CRV fired right up.

  Blake said something to Sawyer before turning to leave, but she couldn’t hear what. A muscle in Sawyer’s jaw ticked as his stony stare followed Blake across the parking ramp. It was just as well. Whatever was said, she probably wouldn’t have appreciated it.

  She rolled down the window as Sawyer limped toward her. “Is everything okay?”

  He seemed to be weighing his response before speaking. “How well do you know this guy, Emma?”

  “I’d say well. I’ve been working under Blake for the last two years.”

  He nodded, but there were a lot of unspoken thoughts in the slight bend of his head.

  “Why?” she prodded, suspecting she wasn’t going to like the answer.

  “He just appeared out of nowhere the momen
t your car wouldn’t start? Quite a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? Of all the ramps and all the places he could be at three o’clock in the morning, he’s here?”

  Goose bumps prickled her flesh, not unlike the apprehension niggling her when Blake had cornered her outside the security office. When he put it like that…

  “Did you change your battery recently?”

  “No.”

  “Those things don’t just come off, you know. Have you ever seen him in a parking ramp before?”

  “Stop it. You’re scaring me.”

  He met and held her stare, and with dead seriousness said, “Maybe you should be. Emma, I don’t want you coming out here alone anymore. If security isn’t available to escort you, then you call me.”

  Did he realize what he was saying?

  “Detective,” she began.

  “Sawyer,” he interrupted.

  “Sawyer,” she began again. “I don’t get done with work until 3 o’clock in the morning. I am not waking you up and dragging you out here just to walk me to my car.”

  “Emma, this isn’t a joke.”

  She never thought it was.

  “You fit the profile. This bastard could be anyone, anywhere. Until he’s caught, I don’t want you coming out here alone. Understood?”

  “Okay,” she whispered numbly. Sawyer Gerrard was nothing if not direct.

  “All right then.” In a gesture of tenderness, he reached inside the car and gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “You scared the hell out of me,” he confessed, his voice husky with emotion.

  An unexpected rush of heat swept through her, settling low in her stomach. Her breath caught in a surprised gasp, a cloud of breath rolled past her parted lips on an exhale that betrayed her reaction. The amused grin tugging at Sawyer’s lips told her it hadn’t gone unnoticed.