by Tracy Sharp
I crept up to the darkened bathroom, stopping outside the doorway and listening. I can usually tell if there’s someone around. The air changes in the space you’re in. It’s like two people in a pool. The air shifts the same as water will. Air pushes your heat around. Your breath and your fear. It’s not hard to tell if you pay attention to the space you’re in at all times. It becomes automatic after awhile.
I was pretty sure there was nobody in there but I flicked the light on and went in just the same. It was a filthy bathroom. The tub probably hadn’t been washed in years. Same for the sink, the toilet and the floor. I instantly became itchy and got the hell out of there.
I continued down the hall to the bottom of the stairway where Jack was listening hard and waiting for me. When I looked at him with a question in my eyes, do you hear anything? He shook his head at me. I frowned. It didn’t feel right. Even if the women were tied up and gagged, you’d hear something. You’d hear labored, panicked breathing. You’d feel the vibrations of their horror and dread in the air.
I felt it, too. There was nothing. I was getting a bad feeling about it.
Still, we stepped softly up the stairs and made our way down the hall. There were three doors up there. All closed. When we got to the first, we listened hard. Again, Jack shook his head. There was nothing. I dreaded opening any of the doors. I didn’t want to see what was behind them. I took a shuddering breath and placed a shaking hand on the doorknob. I turned it slowly. It opened easily when I pushed on it.
It was pitch black. So black I couldn’t tell if there was a window in the room. It smelled bad, like rotten vegetables. I held my breath as Jack reached in to feel for a light switch. In a split second, the room was flooded with light. It was empty. Something dark and reddish-brown stained the unfinished hardwood floor. There was a closet on the right side of the room.
I went over to it, my mind screaming at me to stop, and slowly turned the knob. I tried to avoid making any noise but the door was sticking. I had to yank it open. It too was empty. No clothes. Just a few empty wire hangers. One had been straightened and leaned against one corner of the closet. I turned away, not wanting to look at it. Not wanting to see if there was anything on it.
Jack stood in the hall, looking at me but keeping a watch on the hallway and stairs. I shook my head at him: Nothing. He tilted his head in the direction of the other two doors.
Same routine for the second door. We listened. I opened the door. Jack found the light switch. Nobody in there. No closets. There was a double bed in the middle of the room. The faded blue sheets were stained different shades. I didn’t look that closely. I tilted my face at the bed, looking toward the bottom of it.
Jack nodded. I’ll go.
I stayed watch while he moved the sheets from the floor with his penlight, gun trained under the bed. He got up off the floor and came back to me, shaking his head. Nothing.
We moved to the last door. Although there’d been nobody in the last two rooms, my adrenaline was pumping overtime and I could feel the pulse in my temples. I tried to slow my breathing but I just had a bad sense about the last room. I could see it in Jack, too. That stony expression on his face. Like he was preparing himself for something really nasty.
We held our guns and our breath. He turned the doorknob and opened the door. He felt for a light switch but couldn’t find one on either side of the door. He played his penlight across the ceiling and found a light bulb with a string hanging from it.
By then I was having trouble breathing. I kept swallowing and my mind was whirling.
Because … the penlight threw just enough light for me to see the shape of the body slumped in the corner of the room.
“Jesus,” Jack breathed.
The girl was young. Maybe only sixteen or seventeen. Asian. She was dressed in a black mini-skirt, a silvery, transparent tank top with a black bra beneath and a pair of black, high heels. She wore no pantyhose. Her chin rested on her chest, long black hair hung around her face. A needle protruded from her arm.
I shook my head. “No. Uh-uh. No way.”
Jack stepped into the room. “I don’t think so either.”
I kept shaking my head. “She didn’t do this herself. She either got fed up with being a piece of meat, stopped playing nice and Woodard killed her, or he just wants to give us a message. Didn’t feel like using my answering machine this time.” I was trembling, grinding my teeth, swallowing back my nausea and rage. It was a white-hot rage. And I didn’t know what to do with myself. I wanted to scream until my throat was raw. I just kept swallowing it down.
“This guy’s going down, Leah.” Jack was staring at the girl, his face blank. “Him and his cop friend.”
“They knew what they were doing. They’ll say she was some squatter with a habit and that the house had been empty for a long time.”
“They’re going down,” he said again, nodding slowly. He turned to me. “And I don’t mean prison. It’s way too late for that.”
I agreed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
After Will placed an anonymous call to the police from a phone booth, we decided to leave it for the night. Jack and I were heartsick over the horrible death of the woman in the house. Cal and Will were angry but glad they hadn’t seen her.
Will was also visibly shaken. He didn’t say much, except that he was going to see a girl. Cal and I went back with Jack to his house to pick up the Rubicon and to check on Amanda. When we got there, Patrick shook his head and lifted his hands, palms up.
“She left,” he said.
“What? What do you mean ‘she left’?” Jack said.
“I mean, she was up there for about an hour and then she took off. She said to thank everyone for helping her. She didn’t say where she was going.”
“Aw, hell!” Jack bellowed.
“Hey, man. She’s a grown woman. What would you expect me to do? Tie her up?”
“No, I just know where she’s headed.” Jack let out a deep breath and shook his head.
“Exactly.” I nodded. “Right back to Finn. Melon Farmer!”
Everyone stopped for a second, looking puzzled.
“It’s a term to replace mother . . . you know. The ‘f’ word.”
“She’s scared he’s going to hurt her family. I can understand why she went back. I don’t like it, but I understand it,” Cal said.
I shook my head. I was so tired, I could barely string two thoughts together. I was exhausted. Emotionally drained. I just didn’t want to think anymore. I turned to Cal. “I need to get home. I need to see Jesse.”
“He left about two hours ago,” Patrick said. “With that girl that’s been coming to see him.”
The hair on the back of my neck bristled. “You let him go?”
Patrick rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah.”
“Where’s Sean? You guys are supposed to be watching him.”
“Sean had a date after work. What am I? A friggin’ babysitter? Anyway, Leah, Jesse’s twenty-one. If he wants to go for coffee with a girl, I’m not going to stand in his way.”
They were right, but I couldn’t stand not knowing where Jesse was when Woodard and Finn were out there just waiting for a moment to get back at me. Hurting Jesse would be the perfect way to do that.
Jack rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. He stared off into space for a moment, eyes squinted. “I think he’ll be okay.”
“Did he say where they were going?” I tried to keep the blame out of my voice. I scratched my arm. It suddenly felt like there were tiny worms wiggling beneath my skin.
He shook his head. “No. He just said they were going for coffee.”
“Leah,” Cal began. “You don’t want to go looking for him when he’s with this girl. You’ll embarrass the hell out of him.”
I looked at him, trying to keep from glaring. “What if Woodard or some of his friends are following him?”
“Woodard is busy with Finn. I doubt he’s thinking about following anyone tonig
ht,” Cal said.
Jack nodded. “Yeah. He’ll be okay. Don’t worry about it. He’s a smart kid. He can take care of himself.” The worry touching his eyes told me that Jack was much more concerned about Jesse than he was letting on.
There just wasn’t much we could do about it at the moment except to scour the city like frantic relatives searching for a lost child.
Without another word, I turned and headed out to the driveway. I felt sick. When I got to the Jeep, I had to rest my hands on the hood of it to steady myself. I took deep breaths, willing the dizziness and nausea away.
“Hey.” Cal placed a hand on my back. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged his hand off me. “Don’t touch me.” I was gasping. I felt like I was suffocating.
He backed up a step and said nothing … but kept watching me. I could feel his indecision. He was wondering if he should run in and get Jack or just leave me alone for a few minutes. I didn’t want him going in to get Jack. I didn’t want this to be a big deal.
“I’ll be okay in a minute.” I steadied my voice and stared at the hood of the Jeep, concentrating on the color of the paint under the moonlight. I looked up at the clear, star-speckled sky and felt myself calm down. That sky was so enormous and I was insignificant under it. I couldn’t control the universe. It was much bigger than me. I could only do what I could do.
I started giggling. I looked at Cal who was watching me, alarm growing on his face.
“It’s okay,” I said between a string of giggles. “Really. I’m feeling better. I’m kool and the gang.” The truth was that I felt a little hysterical. It was all right. I’d rather feel crazy than panicked.
“Um, okay.” Clearly, he wasn’t buying it but it was easier to humor the insane than to risk arguing with them. “Kool and the gang. Did that band spell their name with a ‘c’ or a ‘k’? I can’t remember.”
“With a ‘k’.” I took a deep, cleansing breath.
“No, really.” I took a moment to catch my breath. “I’m just on a roller coaster ride, you know? That’s all. I’m coming down now.”
He nodded slowly. “Good.”
“Get in.” I walked to the driver’s side of the Jeep. “I’ll take you home.”
He hesitated.
“Oh come on. Don’t you trust my driving?” I couldn’t blame him.
A big smile broke out on his face and he laughed, shaking his head. “Leah. You’re killing me.”
I shook my head as I opened the door. “Nah. Not tonight.”
“Oh, that’s a comforting thought.” He climbed into the Jeep and fastened his seat belt. “I must be an adrenaline freak, just like you are.”
“Nah. An adrenaline freak wanna-be.”
* * *
I pulled into the parking area of the repo depot and parked the Jeep, keeping my hands on the steering wheel to keep myself from grabbing on to Cal and holding on for dear life. I didn’t want the night to end yet. I was still trying to keep my breathing steady and slow my heart. I was feeling unhinged and truth be told, I was scared. The last person I wanted to see me in this state was Jesse. He would probably be home by now and he’d want to tell me about his date. I kept telling myself that he was probably home. I was wishing it. I couldn’t let him see me this way if he was there.
I stared at the windshield, not wanting Callahan to see my eyes. Even if I felt like I was losing control, I wasn’t willing to let Cal see me feeling weak.
“You okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” I said. “Just a momentary lapse of sanity. Nothing out of the ordinary.” I glanced at him, pasting a smile on my face.
“Why don’t you come in for a minute? Have a beer.”
It sounded like a good offer. I’m stubborn. If I was starving I’d dig around in a dumpster before I asked anyone for food. “It’s late.”
“Please? I can’t sleep after tonight. I don’t want to unwind alone.”
I turned and looked at him. He could read me easily and I could see that he wasn’t saying it only my benefit. He really didn’t want to be alone. “Sure. Okay.”
As I followed him into the building, my eyes were drawn to him. For some reason I couldn’t look away. His broad shoulders under the worn jean jacket he wore, the way his dark hair curled on his neck, fascinated me. I looked down at his snugly clad butt, then down to his strong legs. He had runner’s legs. I wondered if he jogged at all. Then it occurred to me that I really didn’t know much about Callahan’s life outside of his job or what had been going on lately between us and the criminal element we seemed to have surrounded ourselves with.
“Are you checking me out?” he asked, not turning around. I could hear the grin in his words.
“Maybe. You’ve got nice legs. Do you jog?” It was strange asking him that question. We’d had sex and really I barely knew much about him.
We were heading into the tiny kitchen. He went to the fridge and took out two beers. “Oh my. A compliment.”
Now I was getting irritated. “Well? Do you?”
He twisted off the caps and handed me a beer. “I jog early in the mornings. Five miles a day. It’s all I have time for usually. Sometimes I’ll go for a run before bed. Sometimes it’s the only way that’ll keep my brain from spinning.” His eyes were holding my own, refusing to look away.
“Ah.” I took off my jacket. It was getting warm in there.
“I used to cycle when I was a lawyer. I don’t have time to do both. I stopped after an old lady hit me with her giant boat of a car and totaled my bike.”
“Were you hurt?”
He shook his head. “Nothing serious. Just a few scrapes and bruises.”
“Did you sue her?”
“No. I did get her license revoked before she killed somebody.”
There was maybe only two feet between us. My eyes strayed to his blue Henley shirt. The buttons were undone and I could see the tan skin of his chest. I forced myself to look away, gripped my beer and took a long pull from the bottle. It had been the kind of day that would’ve justified drinking an entire case. However, that wouldn’t solve anything.
“Are you hungry? We didn’t eat any dinner. I’m famished.” He started looking through all the take out menus he’d stuck to his fridge with tiny magnets. “What do you feel like? Thai? Pizza? You’ve got to be hungry.”
Why did he always look so inviting? I didn’t like the way I always wanted him. I needed to have more control over my emotions. I didn’t need any more complications in my life.
To hell with it. I covered the distance between us and slipped my arms around his waist.
“It can wait,” I breathed into his ear. I caught his earlobe between my teeth ran my hands up under his shirt, running them over his chest. His skin was hot under my touch. I moved my hands down over the crotch of his jeans and felt a little surge of power when I heard his soft groan.
He turned and faced me, his eyes softened by arousal. As his hands encircled my waist, he drew me closer and lowered his head to kiss me. His mouth was warm and soft but within moments, our kisses grew urgent and hot.
We undressed quickly, pulling off our clothes and leaving them on the cold, tiled floor. Cal lifted me onto the steel kitchen table and I lay back, shivering against the cool metal beneath my skin. He kissed me all over. My body seemed to have a will of its own. My back arched with my need and I wrapped my legs around his hips, impatient.
“Wait,” he said, breathless.
“No.” I couldn’t wait. I moved myself over him, gasping at the sensation of him filling me. I reached above my head and grabbed the edge of the table. “Don’t be nice. I don’t want nice.”
He grabbed my hips and pulled me closer. I gripped the edge more tightly and closed my eyes, losing myself in him. My mind shut itself down and my body took over, meeting his thrusts with urgency and delicious abandon.
I sat up and reached for his face. He leaned in and met my kiss. I breathed him in, the smell of his sweat, of his hair, and felt strangely at home.
/>
Later, we did order pizza. We’d finished his last two beers earlier, so I settled for cola. We sat on the steel table with the pizza box between us like a couple of high school kids.
Cal was back to grinning. He was awfully proud of himself. “Well, I don’t know about you but I sure feel better.” His chewing muffled his voice.
I smiled, but kept chewing. The sausage, pepperoni and cheese were heavenly. Whoever had first thought of putting that combination together had been a friggin’ genius in my book.
He took a bite of pizza but eyed me as he chewed. “Do you feel better?”
I almost choked laughing at him. “Are you really that insecure?”
“Well, yeah. It’s a guy thing. I mean, you seemed pretty happy, uh, at the time.”
I nodded. “Yes, Cal. I was happy. Good job.”
He shook his head. “Jesus. You’re tough.”
“This is news to you?”
“No, I guess not. I just figured that since, you know, we’ve … been close for a little while now…”
I put down my half-eaten slice of pizza, suddenly losing my appetite. A familiar old feeling began gripping my neck and shoulders and suddenly the room seemed far too small for the two of us.
Cal kept on struggling. “That, uh, that we’d be, well you’d be … we could start being—”
Why couldn’t he have just left it like we had before? Why did he have to spoil it by expecting more from me than I had to give?
I stared at him, becoming impatient with him because of my own growing feeling of suffocation. “What? Nicer to you? I told you. I don’t want nice. If I wanted nice I’d boff some college professor with loafers and a blazer. We’re buddies. Let’s not get all frigging romantic about it. Okay?” The very thought made me shudder. I just wasn’t the romantic type.