Cold Case

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Cold Case Page 21

by Susan Sleeman


  “Starting with a vest.”

  “It’s in the chopper.”

  He shook his head. “I grabbed both of our ‘Go Bags’ while you were talking with Riley.”

  One side of her mouth tipped up. “You really are the best, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve been trying to tell you that for days.” He grinned. “Shoot—every time I caught your attention for this past year.”

  “I’m kind of thickheaded.”

  “Kind of?”

  Her mouth dropped open.

  He laughed and considered tipping up her chin, but movement to his side snagged his attention. He instinctively shoved her behind him. It was only a squirrel, but it sobered him up, and he urged her away from the windows. She put on her vest and covered it with a large shirt.

  Tucking her under his arm, he slowly moved them to the front door. She didn’t question his actions, but actually eased even closer to him. He loved the feel of her body next to his as if she belonged there. He had to work doubly hard not to let that distract him. They reached the building without any incidents, and he pulled open the lobby door. They located the elevator and were standing outside Coker’s apartment within minutes.

  She slipped out from under Trey’s arm and knocked. He immediately felt the loss, but stood aside, ready for action, his focus firmly fixed ahead.

  Coker jerked open the door. He eyed Trey. “See you had to bring your bodyguard again. You must really be afraid of me.”

  “Right.” Eryn rolled her eyes.

  Coker stepped back, and they entered the studio apartment. A kitchenette filled one wall. The living room ahead and was only big enough for a sofa, a console table behind it, and a television mounted on the wall. Newspapers were piled on the sofa and stacked on the floor. Behind it sat an unmade queen-sized bed.

  Trey took particular interest in the suitcase sitting by the door. Was Coker planning to run? But why, when Blake had nothing on the guy? If so, why let them come talk to him? Maybe he was taking a trip to stage another protest.

  Trey wouldn’t mention the suitcase now, let things play out, and bring it up when the timing seemed right.

  Coker swept the papers to the floor, revealing a stained sofa. “Go ahead and sit.”

  “I’ll stand,” Eryn said.

  “Suit yourself.” He plopped down.

  Trey stationed himself near Eryn.

  “What did you want to talk about?” he asked casually, but his expression was anything but casual.

  “ShadowPrince,” she said.

  “Say what?” Coker tilted his head.

  “ShadowPrince. Your online screen name.”

  He snorted. “You pretend to be a talented computer person, but you’re so wrong it’s funny.”

  “I’m not wrong when I say you murdered Veronika Abram, though, am I?” Eryn kept her focus locked on Coker.

  He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Not even a twitch of his finger. A perfect tell for his guilt. He finally narrowed his eyes.

  “Veronika who?” he asked, but the damage had been done. His body language told them he had indeed killed Veronika.

  “The woman dressed in the fox costume,” Eryn said, her voice steely. “I expected you’d at least have learned her name before you killed her.”

  He crossed his arms. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  “Why don’t I believe you?” Eryn said, tapping her finger on her chin. “Let’s see. You were seen near the playground at her time of death. You were carrying. The police have matched your gun to the bullet recovered from Veronika’s body.”

  Trey was shocked that she added the last bit as they knew no such thing. Maybe she was hoping as a layperson he didn’t understand the process of matching a bullet to a particular weapon.

  Coker leapt up from the couch, his gaze spiteful and challenging. “Right, like I’d buy that. You must think I’m stupid. If the police had anything on me, they’d have arrested me.”

  Trey took a step in his direction.

  “Down boy.” Coker waved his arm dismissively. “I’m going to get a glass of water. Either of you want anything?”

  “No,” Eryn said. “Other than for you to admit you killed Veronika.”

  Coker snorted and went to the kitchenette. With his back to them, he grabbed a glass from a cupboard and filled it. “Maybe you could tell me the reason I would want to kill a woman I don’t even know.”

  Trey gave Eryn a look trying to tell her that she should take things down a notch, but she shook her head and put a finger up.

  Coker spun, sipped on his glass, and stared at Eryn over the rim. His eyes were unfocused and seemed to be glazing over with anger. He crossed back to the living room and set his glass on the console table. He was only a few feet from Eryn. Trey took a step to insert himself between them.

  “Why the suitcase?” Trey asked thinking it was the right time as Coker seemed to be losing it and might not be able to focus later.

  “Suitcase?”

  Trey gestured at the packed bag. “You running from something?”

  A knock sounded on the door, grabbing their attention.

  “Police. Open up, Coker. We have a warrant for your arrest.” Trey recognized Blake’s voice.

  Trey turned back to see Coker whipping out a large butcher knife from his sleeve, grabbing Eryn, and pressing the blade against Eryn’s throat.

  “No!” Trey yelled. He wouldn’t let Coker hurt her. Couldn’t let Coker hurt her.

  Fierce pounding sounded at the door.

  Coker glanced over, panicked, and his hold on Eryn loosened.

  Trey seized the moment and karate chopped Coker’s arm away from Eryn. She stumbled away.

  Coker lunged at Trey with the knife.

  Trey jerked back. Not fast enough.

  The knife came down in a furious slash. Bit into Trey’s left arm. Deep. Tearing. Ripping.

  Coker yanked back, and the gash widened. Blood spurted out. He must have hit bone. Pain razored into Trey’s arm and the room swam.

  Eryn screamed. “Drop it, Coker! I’ll shoot!”

  Coker whipped around with the bloody knife, and Trey slammed him to the ground. He writhed and screeched like a banshee, trying to stab Trey.

  Trey saw Eryn aiming her gun, but they were grappling too furiously for her to get a shot in. Blood was spurting everywhere.

  The world was going black. Dark and welcoming. He swallowed and fought hard not to pass out when Eryn needed him.

  Then door splintered and cracked as Blake and another officer burst in the room, yelling.

  Trey seized the moment to slam Coker’s arm down and dislodge the knife. Eryn sighed out her relief and kicked it away. Blake got Coker’s arms behind his back and cuffed him. Officers rushed in and hauled the screaming man out of the apartment.

  Trey dragged himself away to lean against the couch and gripped his arm. There was blood everywhere, and panic reared up in Eryn’s body. An eight-inch gash ripped open Trey’s forearm, deep and jagged.

  Could she stop this much bleeding before the medics arrived? She had to. Trey depended on her.

  She charged to the kitchen and grabbed towels. She swallowed down her queasiness and wrapped the gaping wound tightly then applied firm pressure. She hated that she must be hurting Trey. The color had drained from his face, but he remained conscious. His jaw twitched and sweat ran down his face as he breathed rapidly.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her voice wavered as she locked on to his gaze.

  “For what?” He tried to smile but his lips trembled. “You didn’t cut me.”

  “I should’ve listened to you. Known Coker would try something like this and leave it to Blake.” She grabbed another towel to cover the first which was saturated with blood.

  Blake, standing in the doorway, snorted. “If only I had a recording of that to play back to you.” He looked down the hall. “Hang in there, Trey. Medics are a few minutes out.”

  “Coker?” Trey asked.

  “On his way to bo
oking.” Blake responded. “FYI, we took possession of Coker’s gun this morning. Likely why he needed to use a knife. The rifling on the bullet removed from Veronika’s body matched Coker’s gun. Which is why we’re here.”

  “So he was planning to run,” Trey muttered.

  “Yeah, saw the suitcase,” Blake replied.

  “If only you would’ve answered your phone.” Eryn protested.

  He eyed her. “If only you would’ve waited until you’d spoken to me. I was strategizing with PPB.”

  “Point taken.”

  An ambulance siren screamed nearby, and she almost sighed with relief, but Trey wasn’t out of danger yet.

  Blake focused on Trey. “I’ll be adding assault with a deadly weapon to Coker’s murder charge.”

  Trey nodded.

  Eryn’s heart shredded from seeing him so pale and limp.

  Father, please. Please watch over Trey and let him recover. I can’t lose him. I just can’t.

  Blake looked at Eryn. “Are you any closer to proving he hacked your computer?”

  She knew he wanted the answer, but even more, he was trying to keep Trey’s mind from the injury. She kept an eye on Trey and shared their theory about Coker’s motives.

  “You could be right,” Blake said. “Hopefully, when I question him, he’ll explain.”

  “I don’t think he had anything to do with the ransomware, though.” She told Blake about their interview with Petrov.

  Blake frowned. “You better be certain of what you’re saying before you accuse a veteran detective of blackmail.”

  “I’m not ready to make any accusations. Just a working theory.”

  “Well, when you do have proof, don’t confront Petrov like you did Coker. With Petrov’s law enforcement training, he could be even more dangerous.” Blake rushed in the hallway. “Medics—in here!”

  She turned her gaze back to Trey. “Looks like the bleeding’s slowed.”

  “Thanks for that.” He tried to rise up on his elbow but fell back.

  “Relax, tough guy. Let the medics do their job.” She backed away as two medics rushed into the room and began working on him.

  She looked down at her blood-saturated hands. Trey’s blood. His lifeline. Poured out here. Because of her. He could’ve died.

  A flood of anxiety crashed through her body, and she panicked, remembering Rich’s death. That terrible night when he’d died in a bloody crash. She put a wall up around her heart. She couldn’t survive the pain of another loss. She’d see Trey all the way through recovery, and then they’d go their separate ways.

  22

  On the chopper heading to Cold Harbor, Eryn watched Trey like a hawk as the sun started its descent toward the horizon. Trey had suffered only a class II hemorrhage and didn’t need a blood transfusion, only a Lactated Ringer's solution.

  Thank you, God.

  The ER doctor offered strong pain meds, but Trey adamantly refused. The only pain relief he’d gotten was a lidocaine injection before the doctor cleaned and closed the deep wound with thirty stitches. Thirty pain-filled agonizing stitches. And that didn’t count the subcutaneous sutures. Eryn had held his other hand through it, even when he tried to refuse, and had felt him jerk with the deeper stitches.

  When the doctor was done, Eryn continued to hold his hand, watching him breathe as the IV dripped into him. His color was better and he didn’t look as weak, but she didn’t like that he wasn’t under a doctor’s care. She’d told the doctor as much. He said the pain was most likely causing Trey’s symptoms, and that the best thing she could do for him was to convince him to take his pain meds. She would try.

  After the IV ran out, they released him and now they were back in the helo. He shifted in his seat and winced.

  “I wish you’d take the pain meds,” she said into her headset.

  “Maybe when we get to the compound.”

  Translated, once she was behind secured fences and safer.

  “No one’s coming for me, Trey. Not up here in the chopper and not in the compound.” She met his gaze and held it. “Please take the meds. For me, if not for yourself.”

  “You?”

  “I don’t like seeing you like this. Pale. Sweating. Obviously in pain from an injury you incurred while saving my life.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You say that, but that’s because you can’t see yourself.”

  “I don’t have to see me. I am me.”

  She sighed. “And you said I was stubborn.”

  He quirked a smile. “Never claimed I wasn’t equally stubborn at times.”

  She took the hand of his uninjured arm. “I’ll let this go for now, but expect me to bring it up again once we land. And know that Hannah will join me in my quest.”

  “She will, won’t she.” He shook his head. “I don’t know which of you is a bigger mother hen.”

  “Eryn is,” Riley chimed in. “No question. She tries to boss us around on ops all the time, and Hannah sticks to our private lives.”

  Trey chuckled then grimaced.

  “Time for us to all be quiet so you can get some rest.” She released his hand and gently pulled his head toward her shoulder.

  “See what I mean?” Riley said.

  She ignored Riley while Trey shifted in his seat and settled his head in place. His soft hair caressed her cheek, and her heart nearly exploded with joy at having him so close. She didn’t like that he was injured, but she loved that it gave her a reason to touch him and not have to worry he would take it the wrong way.

  She rested her head against his, her heart swimming with emotions. She heard him breathe easier and could tell by the even rise and fall of his chest that he’d drifted off to sleep.

  They remained that way until Riley set the chopper down. Trey came awake in a startle and sat up. He glanced around then met her gaze and smiled. A soft smile that said he couldn’t think of anything better than waking to find her at his side. She couldn’t resist the gentleness in his look and touched the side of his face. He pressed his hand over hers, and they lingered there. Looking at each other. Mesmerized. Unwilling to pull away.

  “Um…guys. We’re home.” Riley’s voice came through the headset. “You have a welcoming committee so maybe take this back to your place.”

  Eryn snapped her gaze free and felt her face flush with embarrassment at her lack of restraint. She removed her headset.

  “Mind helping me with mine?” Trey asked.

  She lifted it off and moved a lock of his hair back into place.

  “For the record, I like it when you blush like that.” He grinned again. “You’re this incredibly tough woman who can handle herself with killers and other criminals, and then you blush over being caught looking at me. It’s really sweet.”

  His comment made her face burn even more, and she hurried to climb past him to the door. She spotted Hannah and Gage standing near the utility vehicle, both gazes dark with concern, the sun a glowing ball behind them. Eryn turned to offer her hand to help Trey, but he ignored it and jumped down. She saw him cringe and his eyes go dark, but he quickly whisked the emotions away. They ducked under the slowing rotors and made their way to Gage and Hannah.

  Gage eyed Trey. “How bad is it?”

  “Just a scratch,” Trey said.

  “Hah!” Eryn said. “A scratch that took over thirty stitches to close and that doesn’t count the subcutaneous sutures.”

  Gage frowned. “Sorry, man. You know I hate it when my people get hurt.”

  “No biggie,” Trey replied, also not addressing the “my people” comment.

  Hannah took a step closer. “Your face says something else.”

  “See?” Eryn looked up at him. “I told you your pain is obvious.” She looked at Hannah. “He won’t take his pain meds because he thinks he has to protect me.”

  “I get that,” Gage said.

  Trey gave a quick nod. “Knew you would.”

  “But she’s safe here at the compound,” Hannah sai
d.

  Gage looked at his wife. “Reasonably, yeah. But if her attacker is as determined as yours was—”

  “He could try to breach security,” Hannah finished for him.

  “Right now, I don’t even want to think about that,” Eryn said. “I want to get Trey back to my place and settle him on the couch so he can rest.”

  Trey’s eyes narrowed. “I rested on the helo.”

  “Doesn’t mean you don’t need more.” Eryn almost clucked at him like the mother hen they’d accused her of being but refrained from doing so. “And food. I plan to feed you until you pop, then we’ll all get a good night’s sleep.”

  “Let me bring dinner over,” Hannah offered. “I’ve got a big roast beef in the oven and there’s plenty.”

  Trey shook his head. “You don’t have to baby—”

  “That would be wonderful,” Eryn said.

  Gage’s mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Go with the pampering, man. Or you’ll wear yourself out arguing.”

  Trey smiled, but it was half grimace.

  “Let’s get you home.” It wasn’t lost on Eryn that she’d said “home” when it wasn’t his home, so she quickly gestured at the vehicle to cover up her comment, but the others didn’t miss it. Of course, they didn’t. They didn’t miss anything.

  “You two go ahead,” Hannah said. “We’ll walk with Riley.”

  Eryn knew Hannah hoped to give them privacy, something they totally didn’t need, but Eryn wanted to get Trey off his feet so she didn’t argue. He slipped behind the wheel before she could protest, so she let him drive. It wasn’t far.

  They drove down the road, and Eryn was happy to see familiar sights that included a big training facility about the size of a basketball court. Next came a small town made of cutout storefronts that they used for urban training, and then they drove past cabins where trainees stayed, until they finally reached the staff cabin area.

  Eryn’s mother met them at the door. She peered up at Trey. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine, and let’s not talk about it again,” he said sounding a bit put out. “I don’t want to worry Bekah.”

  Even now he was concerned about others. A character trait Eryn had to add to the long list of traits that was swaying her toward getting involved with him when she’d just resolved to walk away from him.

 

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