“In the chief’s defense, he was backed into a corner. Amanda Kennedy’s parents went to the media this morning. By noon Fox 9 and KARE 11 were ringing the phones off the hook. Kennedy’s parents are threatening to sue the police department. They’re claiming if Amanda would have known there was a killer out there disabling cars, she might not have accepted a stranger’s help.”
“That might be a valid argument, except I don’t think he was a stranger. I think there’s a very good possibility that she knew him. Victims one and two were both grabbed from the parking ramps at the hospital. They were both in the ER at Ramsey the day they disappeared.”
“You’ve got a suspect?”
“I’m eliminating one, but my gut says he’s not the guy.”
Silence answered him.
“Public hysteria isn’t going to do anyone any good. Giving this asshole airtime and a goddamn fame-name is only going to feed his ego. How close are we on getting Emma Rhodes into protective custody?”
Despite the pang in his chest at the thought of letting Emma go and turning her protection over to someone else, it was probably for the best. Minute by minute he was drawing closer to crossing the line with her. He wasn’t sure how much longer mind could rule over matter, especially when both wanted her in the worst way. She was a distraction to him, and to this case. He needed to be focusing on catching whoever was behind these murders, not getting inside Emma’s pants.
“Still waiting for approval, but you and I both know the system isn’t perfect and these things take time. Especially when there’s not enough evidence—”
“So we have to wait for her to disappear first? Will that be enough evidence for you?”
“Hey, you know these decisions aren’t up to me. But I can suspend your ass for insubordination, so watch it.”
Sawyer knew it was an idle threat, especially now that the media was going to be crawling up his ass. Ah, the joys of being a captain. They needed a break in this case, and they needed it yesterday. “I’m waiting for Emma Rhodes’ dossier so I can finish her profile. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.”
He disconnected the call and headed back to the table. When he approached, a flicker of alarm skated through his veins. “Where’s Emma?”
Molly looked up, surprised to see him standing there. “I thought you guys left. Emma’s not with you?”
“No.” Alarm turned into full-blown panic as he turned and raced out of the restaurant.
* * *
The hand left her mouth long enough to curl into a fist and collide with her cheek. Stars exploded behind Emma’s eyes, blacking out her vision as dizziness swamped her. The only thing keeping her conscious was the panic pumping adrenaline through her veins. Her knees buckled and she crumpled. The punishing grip around her waist kept her from hitting the ground. She struggled in the man’s arms as he dragged her further into the parking lot. She tried to fight back, but the blow she’d taken left her weak and disoriented.
Emma tried to scream, but her cry for help was cut off when he gripped her throat and squeezed, choking off her air.
“Shut the fuck up!”
The man behind the ski mask slammed her against the building and the back of her head connected with the brick. Right before the darkness claimed her, the thought ghosted through her mind.
I’m going to die.
Chapter 21
As Sawyer burst out the doors, a distant scream broke the frigid night air.
Emma!
Numb to the pain in his thigh, he ran for the parking lot. Fear reached inside his chest, wrapping its icy fingers around his heart, and squeezed until he couldn’t breathe. Sawyer rounded the building as a man dressed in black with a matching balaclava slammed Emma against the building. The sickening thud of her head hitting that brick wall made his stomach churn and something inside him snapped.
Sawyer was on Emma’s attacker before he realized he’d moved. Ripping him off her, he slammed his fist into the bastard’s face, reveling in the satisfying crunch of bone. Blood poured from his nose, dripping from the mask as he took a swing at Sawyer but he easily deflected it and drove his knee into the guy’s ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He crumpled and Sawyer took him to the ground, driving his shoulder into the asphalt.
“In case you were wondering, you’re under arrest,” he growled, pulling a set of cuffs from his inside pocket. The man howled in pain as Sawyer recited his rights while twisting his arms behind his back and slapping the metal cuffs on his wrists. “If you move, I’m going to shoot you in the fucking leg.”
He called dispatch for backup as he rushed over to Emma and gathered her limp body into his arms, her head lolling to the side like a broken porcelain doll. Emotion lodged in his throat. “Emma.” He raised his hand to place two fingers against the side of her neck and realized he was shaking.
Please be alive. He sent up the prayer to a God he feared had turned His back on humanity long ago. Sawyer had seen too much hate, murder, and destruction in his lifetime to imagine there was still a God out there that cared about them. And yet, a flicker of hope must still reside somewhere deep in his soul because he was using it now on Emma. He couldn’t lose her.
Bruises discolored the pale skin on her neck. His gut clenched as he searched for her pulse. And then he found it. The slow, steady, reassuring beat against his fingertips sent a rush of relief flooding through him.
“Emma.” He brushed her hair out of her face and snarled a nasty curse at the swollen cut over her cheek. Blood trickled down her alabaster skin, collecting in her hair.
She let out a pained moan and her eyes flittered open, drowsy and unfocused.
“Emma, I’m here. You’re okay.”
“My head...”
Her voice was a hoarse, strangled rasp that rekindled Sawyer’s rage. Sirens wailed in the distance, assuring him help was on the way.
“You’re going to be okay, Emma,” he repeated, sounding a lot more confident than he felt. He ran trembling fingers into her hair, feeling around the back of her head for a lump. She yelped when he encountered the goose egg. Emma mumbled something, but he couldn’t hear her over the blare of the sirens as two patrol cars skidded to a stop in the middle of the road. It took a whole two seconds before both officers were out of the car, guns drawn.
“Detective Sawyer Gerrard,” he called, identifying himself and holding his badge up so the cops wouldn’t mistake him for the unsub. One officer rushed to the cuffed attacker on the asphalt still bitching and moaning about his shoulder. The other radioed for an ambulance and came over to check on them. He didn’t recognize either cop, but that wasn’t unusual. St. Paul PD was a large department.
“What happened here?”
“I interrupted an assault and possible abduction. After medical clears him, I want him booked and waiting for me in an interrogation room. I’ll be down to write a report and file the paperwork as soon as I take Dr. Rhodes to the hospital.”
“Sawyer, I’m fine.”
She wasn’t fine, and that cut on her face would need stitches.
“We can have the ambulance take her—”
“No, no ambulance,” she moaned the protest.
The officer gave Sawyer a concerned look.
“You’re going to the hospital,” he insisted, using the remote to unlock his car before lifting her into his arms. “The only thing that’s negotiable is the transportation. Will you get the door?” he asked the officer who nodded and rushed ahead of them to the car. Sawyer sat Emma in the passenger seat and then turned to the officer. “I want two men on him at all times and do everything by the book. There’s a possibility that’s the Good Samaritan.”
* * *
“Ouch.” Emma winced as the needle pricked her cheek.
“I’m almost done,” Blake murmured, hovering over her face. His eyes flickered to hers before focusing back on the laceration on her cheek. The light scent of his aftershave made her nauseous, confirming what she hadn’t needed a cat
scan to tell her. She had a grade two concussion.
A low growl emitted from the corner of the room, a sound Emma was pretty sure Sawyer wasn’t even aware he was making. He flinched with each stick of the needle, as if he felt every sharp sting. He hadn’t shown this much response when he’d been shot and bleeding to death. Tension radiated off him like a force field. He’d hardly spoken since he’d carried her into the ER, alternating between pacing in the corner of the room and sitting in the chair tapping his foot. She’d never seen him so restless and agitated. The hostility rolling off him was palpable, though none of it was directed at her. However, Blake was getting a good share of it right now, and she suspected the leftovers were entirely self-directed.
“Sawyer, I’m all right,” she told him, hoping to ease some of his anger. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.” That was a lie. She could count her heartbeats to the throbbing cadence in her temples. “If you need to go to the station—”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I can bring her home,” Blake offered. “She’s going to need to be watched overnight anyway.” He was probably wishing Sawyer would leave so the daggers would stop spearing his back. There was no love lost between these two.
With any luck, the killer had been caught and this nightmare would be over. She could go back home and life would return to normal. Why didn’t that thought fill her with the relief she’d been expecting? The idea of her and Sawyer going their separate ways caused a sharp pang of longing and regret to pinch her chest. Would this be the end for them, or the removal of an obstacle that kept Sawyer from exploring whatever this was between them?
Blake was in the middle of pushing the needle into her cheek when Sawyer told him, “Emma’s staying with me.”
Blake’s hand froze, lines of tension bracketing his mouth. Though he didn’t respond to Sawyer’s comment, she could tell he was upset. After a moment, he began suturing again, but his technique lacked the smooth efficiency it’d begun with. When he clipped the last thread, he set the driver and scissors down and cracked a stick of Dermabond.
“The sutures are under the skin. I’m going to glue the top layer closed. You’ll have less scarring that way. As you know, with a grade two concussion, it may take four to six weeks before you’re completely healed and back to normal. You’re going to need a lot of rest. Take the next few days off work. If you need more time, let me know. If the headaches and nausea persist past one week, I want you to come back in for another exam and we’ll get an MRI.”
He swiped the glue stick over her cheek and fanned the area to help it dry. Pushing back on his chair, Blake stood and pulled his gloves off with brisk, vinyl-snapping efficiency. “One of the nurses will be in shortly to give you your discharge instructions.”
He headed for the door and then stopped, turning back to shoot Sawyer a glacial glare. “Perhaps in the future you could try a little harder to keep her safe. Seems you’re always showing up a few minutes too late.”
Sawyer was on his feet before she’d barely registered his movement. Emma snagged his wrist, stopping him before he did something they would all regret. Assault of a health care worker was a felony. And from the anger flashing in Sawyer’s eyes, she wasn’t sure he’d let that little fact stop him. The taunting smile Blake gave Sawyer as he walked out told Emma he well knew that.
Sawyer was silent as they left the hospital and she suspected he was stewing on that comment Blake had made. She wished he hadn’t been the one to treat her. Putting those two men in the same room was just asking for trouble. “Blake was out of line. He shouldn’t have said what he did. None of this was your fault.”
They pulled out of the parking ramp and turned onto University Avenue. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to throw up. Propping her elbow against the door, she rested her forehead in her hand, waiting for the spins to stop. She was prone to motion sickness to begin with, and these stop and goes weren’t doing her any favors.
“Why didn’t you tell me Weston cornered you outside the security office?”
Shit. She wasn’t up to having this conversation right now.
“You know he’s a person of interest in this case.”
Emma’s stomach turned. “You said you didn’t think he did it.”
“I’m not willing to bet your life on it. I’m pissed that you’re keeping things from me that could alter this investigation.” Then quieter, as if he was taking to heart what Blake had said, “I have to be careful not to let my personal feelings for you cloud my judgment, and so far, I don’t think I’ve done the best job of that.”
His personal feelings for her? What exactly were they? She knew he was attracted to her, but that was hardly a declaration of love. Was Sawyer falling for her? Would he want a relationship when this was over? Or would he use his job as an excuse to push her away, which was kind of ironic, considering that’s what she’d been doing with men for years.
“What about the man who attacked me tonight? Maybe it’s him? The Good Samaritan?”
“Maybe. I’m going down to the station after I get you settled in. It would slam dunk this case if he is. But even if it is him, that doesn’t change the fact that Weston’s an asshole. He was right about one thing though—” Sawyer pulled into the driveway and parked before turning to face her. “What happened tonight was my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
“Sawyer,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed, imploring him to listen to her, but not sure if he could hear anything through his guilt. “You didn’t leave me alone. You left me with Molly and Mark. I never should have gone outside looking for you. I wasn’t thinking, and that’s on me. You saved my life tonight. I—I can’t even begin to imagine what could have happened if you hadn’t gone out there looking for me when you did.”
Sawyer exhaled a curse and framed her face with his hands. “That’s all I can think about. I can’t stop thinking about it.”
And then she realized the tension humming inside him wasn’t anger. It was fear. He was scared—for her, and she loved him all the more for it. If she was being honest, she’d been falling for Sawyer Gerrard from the moment she’d met him. And right here, seeing the raw honesty and emotion in his eyes, she wanted him so badly it hurt.
Emma knew how Sawyer felt about taking this relationship further. She’d told herself she would respect those boundaries. Perhaps now she understood more than ever why he’d stalemated them, but it didn’t stop her from stepping over that line and dragging him down with her.
Emma reached over, slipping her hand around his thick, muscular neck, and pulled him closer. She pressed her lips against his and a rush of tingling heat swept through her. He felt so good, and he tasted even better. He tensed but didn’t resist her, nor did he part his lips to kiss her back—not like before in the kitchen. There was a war waging inside him. She could sense it in the sexual tension arching between them.
When her tongue swept over the seam of his lips, his tortured groan was like sex to her ears, all deep and throaty and pure masculine need. Her headache was quickly becoming replaced by another kind of ache, and this one was turning into a fire only he could quench.
“Emma, you hit your head pretty hard,” he murmured against her lips.
Seriously? Did he think she was kissing him because she had a head injury? Emma laughed. “And you’re trying to do the noble thing by what? Not kissing me back?”
“I’m trying not to take advantage of you.”
Emma looked into his eyes. “What if I told you I wanted you to?” The question was out of her mouth before she could bite it back.
If this was anyone else, she’d be telling them they were a fool. How had this happened? She was careful, guarded, and reclusive. Was he feeling it too? Maybe she was being naïve. She was as emotionally inexperienced as she was sexually. Had she misread things? Was he just being nice? A cop doing his job? God help her, by the time this was over there was a good possibility Sawyer Gerrard was going to bre
ak her heart.
“I’d tell you that you didn’t know what you were asking. That you have a lot to lose, Emma—literally. I’d tell you that once we started down this road, I’m not sure I could stop, and you should think long and hard about doing this with me because there’s a million reasons not to.”
Wow. If he was trying to scare her, he was doing a pretty good job of it. She knew Sawyer was a man of integrity, and that his need for justice was the driving force in his life. But did she really know him. The problem was that in order for that to happen, she would have to let him know her, and Emma wasn’t sure he’d like who he found.
Maybe this was a mistake and she should cut her losses while she was ahead. Maybe the Good Samaritan killer was behind bars. Maybe she would go home, and Sawyer would move on to the next case and forget all about her. It was a lot of maybes for one big possibility.
She slipped her hand back to her lap and stared at the dashboard of his car lit up with law enforcement equipment, the smell of rich leather penetrating her senses. Everything about him and everything he’d said confirmed that Sawyer really was out of her league. She sat there, inwardly cursing herself for being a coward. How long would she let her fears control her? Apparently, for at least one more day.
Chapter 22
It was past eleven when Sawyer entered the station. Baxter, the officer who’d taken the unsub in, had messaged Sawyer that he was finally processed and ready for questioning. Peterson had also contacted him that forensics was finished with Emma’s SUV and she could pick it up anytime. The vehicle was clean, just like the others, but all showed the same evidence of tampering with the battery cable. The only prints they had were Weston’s on her car, though Sawyer had witnessed him putting them there, and what was on his reportedly stolen knife.
A mistake or a plant? Did the doctor have enemies? Did anyone have a grudge against Weston serious enough to frame him for murder? It was a possibility he’d have to explore if the unsub sitting behind bars right now wasn’t the guy Sawyer was looking for. And truth be told, he wasn’t hopeful. How many serials had been caught by accident? Not many. They were too careful, too smart, too methodical. This attack tonight was just plain sloppy. Was it possible the killer had let his emotions get the better of him? Had he seen an opportunity to grab Emma and gone for it? Possibly, but not likely.
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