by Dianna Love
He had never let her down. And he wasn’t about to start now.
***
Blake drove into town, relieved that things seemed quiet. As he got closer to the sheriff’s building, he was grateful there wasn’t a crowd on the front lawn, with people chanting and holding signs. He pulled the SUV in front of the building, got out with Jennifer, and prepared to get Evan Hendricks out of the vehicle, ignoring the white CSN van parking behind them.
Evan refused to get out. Blake yanked him out by his arm and pressed him against the SUV as Evan struggled to get his balance. Jennifer came around the other side to take one of Evan’s arm to walk him in while Blake took the other.
Blake noticed the appearance of the CSN cameraman and shouted, “Get back in your van.”
The cameraman stopped momentarily but followed them with his camera as he filmed, now with the female reporter at his side.
A deputy appeared at the front glass-door and waited for them. They were about five feet from the door when a shot rang out and Evan Hendricks’ body slumped heavily to the ground, dragging Jennifer and Blake down with him. Blake whipped his Glock out of his holster and looked toward the direction of the shot, but saw only the orange setting sun reflected in the old hotel’s windows.
The cameraman shoved the reporter to the ground and dived on top of her to protect her with his body.
Another shot blasted through the air and the back of Evan’s head blew off, showering Jennifer with his blood. Blake checked Evan’s pulse. He was dead. Blake thought Jennifer had also been shot. Staying low to the ground, he dragged her toward the building to the deputy who helped them inside. Blake picked Jennifer up and sat in a chair in the lobby, cradling her body with his arms. He wiped blood from her face and looked into her dilated eyes. She was in shock.
“It came from the hotel!” The deputy shouted. “Third floor, last room!”
“Get the EMTs here, stat!” barked Blake to the deputy as he lay Jennifer on a sofa. “Don’t leave her for a second.”
Blake joined Tim and Lane as they ran to the door with AK-47 rifles with scopes to cover the four deputies who ran into the Glory Days Hotel. A shot sounded from within the hotel.
Blake raced across the street and into the hotel. He took the stairs two at a time until he reached the third floor. At the end of the hall, the deputies kicked in the door of the last room facing the street. Blake waited until they cleared the room, then entered.
Fred Thomas was stretched across a bed, still holding the pistol that enabled him to take his own life. The rifle he used to kill Evan Hendricks lay across a small table on the balcony.
Blake opened an envelope lying on the bed, which was addressed to Julie, and pulled out the note inside.
Julie, I want you to know how much I love you and that this had nothing to do with you. I made a promise to myself and to Catherine to take the life of the killer who took hers. I’ve kept the promise. I don’t want to live in a world without Catherine. I’m sorry.
Chapter Seven
Banned to the emergency room waiting area, Blake got up to pace again. The nurses wouldn’t let him stay with Jennifer while the doctor examined her. He wanted to stay with her. No, it was more than that. Blake needed to be with her. This waiting and not knowing if anything was wrong was the worst kind of torture. Twenty minutes had already passed and he, Lane and Tim had heard nothing. He glanced at the other two men. Tim was talking quietly on his cell phone while Lane hovered over his laptop.
Blake walked to the end of the room and stood before a wide window that overlooked the hospital parking lot. What if something was seriously wrong with Jennifer? When Evan Hendricks hit her, she’d tumbled off the porch, slamming to the ground. How hard had she hit her head? Jennifer said she was fine, but he should have realized her injuries were worse than she admitted. If anyone knew how stoic Jennifer was, he did. Should he have gotten her medical care then, before he brought Evan to the sheriff’s office?
Blake’s mind drifted back to the shooting and replayed the scene in slow motion. Who in the hell would have guessed that Fred Thomas would flip out and shoot Evan Hendricks? How did Fred even know they were bringing Evan to the sheriff’s office? He had to have been watching Evan’s house. And if he was, why hadn’t Blake seen him?
If he’d had any inkling of what Fred planned to do, he would have called ahead for back-up and delivered Evan to the back entrance of the building. He’d been such a fucking easy target from Fred’s room at the hotel. Blake raked his fingers through his hair. His stomach clenched as he visualized Jennifer covered with Evan’s blood, as she lay next to his lifeless body. Christ. Could he have prevented this clusterfuck?
Blake heard a woman’s voice, turned, and noticed Frankie enter the waiting room, along with Jennifer’s mother, Megan. Turning back to the window, he let their husbands explain what had happened. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, unless it was to Jennifer’s doctor. All he wanted to hear was that she was going to be fine, and then he wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go.
Blake began pacing again. He couldn’t just sit still and think about it. He had to do something. He checked his watch. Ten minutes had flown by and he realized they’d heard nothing about Jennifer for thirty minutes. Blake rushed out of the room, down the hall to the nurses’ station and cornered the first nurse he saw.
“Any news about Jennifer Brennan’s condition?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t give out any information about her unless you’re family. Are you?”
“Yes, I will be soon enough. I’m her fiancé,” he lied.
The nurse eyed him skeptically, then said, “The doctor’s with her now. He should be out with some news soon. Just be patient and wait.”
Blake returned to the waiting area, nearly colliding with Frankie, who looked as apprehensive as he felt.
“How is she? Did you learn anything?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Blake shook his head. “Not really. The doctor’s with her and we should hear something soon.”
Frankie returned to her chair next to Lane, who pulled her to him, gently kissing her cheek. Megan and Tim were huddled together talking quietly.
Blake walked back to the window, looking out but not really seeing anything. He remembered the first time he and Jennifer had made love. As he lay with Jennifer’s head on his chest, his arm at her waist, holding her close, he’d vowed to never let her go. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.
An E.R. doctor in green scrubs with an aluminum clipboard tucked under his arm entered the waiting room and asked for Jennifer Brennan’s family. Blake couldn’t get to the man fast enough as the group huddled around him.
“The blow to Jennifer’s head when she fell from the porch caused a concussion,” the doctor began. “She has the typical symptoms: headache, nausea and dizziness. I think she’ll be fine as long as she gets some rest the next couple of days. I gave her a mild sedative and Jennifer is resting now, but she’s asking for Blake.”
He stepped forward, ignoring the curious glances of the others. “I’m Blake.”
“You can go in, but only stay for ten minutes, then the rest of you can visit her. But don’t stay too long, she needs her rest. I want to keep her here for the night. We’ll see how she’s doing in the morning before I decide whether or not to release her.”
***
Jennifer’s eyes were closed when Blake entered the room. He sat quietly in the chair next to her bed and held her hand, weaving his fingers between hers. Except for the dark purple bruising splashed across her cheek, she looked pale, even against the starched white of the sheets. Kissing her hand, Blake watched as her dark eyes opened and a weak smile stretched across her face.
“Hi, Blake,” she whispered.
He moved to the side of the bed, sat down next to her and pulled her in his arms. “You really gave me a scare, honey.”
“Oh, I’m fine. You know you can’t always believe what doctors tell you.”
�
��Don’t even start. He’s prescribing rest for a couple of days, and I’m the guy who’s going to make sure you do it.” Blake kissed her, his large hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place.
“How am I supposed to think clearly to debate with you kissing me like that?”
“That’s the goal. I’ll keep kissing you until you promise me that you’ll take it easy for a couple of days.” Blake ran his thumb along her jaw line where even darker bruising had set in.
Jennifer flinched, and said, “I can’t lie around doing nothing. Not going to happen. What if Evan is innocent? If Evan didn’t kill those girls, there’s a killer out there abducting and killing young women. I don’t think he’ll stop with two.”
“Okay,” Blake sighed. “Let’s agree to discuss it later. How’s that?” Yeah, they would discuss it, and then he would make sure she rested.
“Guess it will have to do.” She pulled him by his shirt and kissed him fully on the lips. “Your kisses could be therapeutic.”
“Your mom, dad, Frankie and Lane are waiting to see you. Plus, you’re supposed to be resting, so I’ll come back in a couple of hours.” Blake pulled her close, gently kissing her until she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer for more. He reluctantly broke off the kiss and left the room.
***
Frankie, Lane, Megan and Tim filed into Jennifer’s room to find tears streaming down her face as she focused on the television. A film of Evan’s shooting was being featured on Grace Cohn’s program on CSN.
As soon as Tim realized what she was watching, he grabbed the remote control from Jennifer’s bed and flipped off the television.
“Dad, is Evan dead?” asked Jennifer as her mother moved beside her to squeeze her hand.
“Yes. There was nothing anyone could do for him.” Tim hated to give her the news, but he refused to lie to her.
“How are we going to know whether or not he killed Catherine and Tiffany?”
“I’ve got a team at his office and home right now looking for evidence.”
Frankie moved behind Jennifer to fluff her pillow. “Okay, that’s enough crime talk. Remember the doc said our girl needs her rest.”
“Yeah, and along those lines,” added Lane. “Don’t count on coming in to work for a couple of days. Enjoy some time off.”
“Take the time off, Jennifer.” Frankie hugged her, then headed for the door with Lane. “We need to go now to pick up Ashley. She had a play date with Melissa and Michael Brandt Jr. today. I’ll call you tomorrow morning to see how you’re doing. Get some sleep, okay?”
Megan glanced at Tim, then hugged Jennifer, too. “Your father has that look he has when he wants to talk to you alone. I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart. Get some rest.”
Before Megan left, she pointed at her husband, “You, I’ll see at home.” She kissed him and then left the room.
“Okay, Dad, what’s up?” Jennifer began. “Mom’s right, you’ve got that look.”
Tim ran his fingers through his hair and moved closer to her bed. “Is there any chance you’ll agree to be taken off this case?”
Jennifer shot him a glare. “Absolutely not. Please, Dad, don’t take me off the case!”
“Okay, don’t get upset. I had to ask,” Tim began as he sat down. “I’m a dad who hates it when his girl gets hurt.”
“I know, Dad. But I’m a trained professional. Evan got the drop on me. I won’t let it happen again.”
Tim nodded and pulled her hand into his and held it tight. A long moment passed before he asked, “Is there anything you want to tell me about you and Blake?”
Tensing, she asked, “What are you talking about?”
“I watched him pace for an hour in the waiting room before they let us see you. He was sick with worry. Blake’s feelings for you go way beyond that of a partner. What about you, Jennifer? What do you feel for Blake?”
Jennifer looked down at her hand held by her father, their fingers intertwined. This was dangerous territory. He was her sheriff as well as her father. He could insist she be assigned a new partner and the thought of being away from Blake was more painful than her injuries. The only time she’d ever lied to her father was five years ago when she tried to hide her pregnancy from him. Jennifer had been in college and the thought of disappointing him had terrified her. The lie had led to her abduction and the stress had nearly killed her parents.
Jennifer couldn’t lie to him again. “Dad, I think I’m in love with Blake.”
***
Blake and Lane were waiting for Tim when he left Jennifer’s room.
“We need to talk about the case,” said Lane as Tim nodded in agreement. “Let’s get a table at the Pizza King. We can talk while we eat.”
Tim arrived at the Pizza King first, ordered a large sausage and mushroom pizza and then waited for Lane and Blake to arrive. He tried to absorb that his daughter was in love with one of his detectives. His first response was relief. It had been five years since she’d broken it off with that idiot Paul Vance. Tim was beginning to think his daughter was filled with so much distrust for men that she’d never allow herself to get close to a man again. Within the last thirty minutes, all that had changed big-time.
Jennifer was in love with Blake Stone. Tim found he wasn’t all that upset about the pairing. Blake was a good man. Early on when Blake had joined the department, Tim had his doubts about him. He was good-looking and buff and had the female deputies panting for him like he was a rock star. Tim’s fear was he’d become a player and would lose focus on the job. That didn’t happen. Blake kept his personal life private, and his analytical skills and single-mindedness had helped his department solve some important cases. Tim trusted him enough to assign him to protect his daughter because he had no doubt Blake would lay down his life for her — without hesitation.
Jennifer was in love with Blake, but how did Blake feel about her? At the hospital, Blake seemed genuinely concerned that Jennifer had been hurt. More than concerned — the guy was crazy with worry. But did that mean he loved her? Tim had no idea what he would do if Blake Stone hurt his little girl, but he knew it wouldn’t be good.
Lane and Blake joined him at the table just as the waitress delivered three cold bottles of Coors.
“Good choice on the brews, boss,” said Lane as he took a gulp. “Stress makes me hungry. Did you order?”
“Large sausage and mushroom.”
“Excellent.”
Tim looked long and hard at Blake, who was peeling the paper from his beer bottle and seemed distracted. “Blake, I talked to Karen Katz on the way over here. So far they haven’t found anything in Evan’s office or home that could link him to the murders.”
His jaw clenched, Blake just looked at the sheriff.
“So tell me again, what do you have on Evan Hendricks?” Tim asked.
“He was engaged to Tiffany Chase and it’s unlikely he was too happy she was doing some overnight camping with another guy.”
“Do you have a witness who can collaborate he knew they were camping together and he was angry?”
“No, sir,” Blake admitted.
“That information wouldn’t have helped your case without a witness. What else do you have?”
“We were bringing him in to discuss his relationship with Catherine Thomas. A witness told us Evan was angry when she dumped him for Nicholas Connor a couple of years ago.” Blake paused for a second as he searched his memory, then continued. “He didn’t say a word about Catherine when we questioned him before. We thought he was hiding the connection between Catherine and him.”
“Anything else?”
“He had no alibi for the night Tiffany Chase went missing. In addition, his cell phone pinged at the tower near Rocky Cliff State Park around the same time we estimate she was abducted.”
***
Ripping the price tag off the new blue scrubs he wore, he took the stairs up to the fourth floor instead of the elevator. Too many people rode the elevator. No witne
sses were the best witnesses. When he’d called earlier, pretending to be a relative of Jennifer Brennan, a nurse had given him her room number. Finally reaching the fourth floor, he slowly opened the door and stepped into the hall. Jennifer was in Room 410, just past the waiting room. He was within six feet from her room, when Sheriff Tim Brennan stepped out. Startled, he dove into a patient room that luckily was empty.
Waiting until the sheriff walked by, he composed himself and strode to Jennifer’s room, closing the door behind him. He stood over her as she slept, confident that even if she awoke, Jennifer would not recognize him in scrubs, with a fake mustache and black-rimmed glasses.
He brushed Jennifer’s hair away from her cheek so he could see her injuries. They weren’t as bad as he’d liked. Too bad. He’d seen the CSN video several times when Jennifer fell off Evan Hendricks’ porch in slow motion after he slugged her. She was a lucky bitch. Anyone else would have broken an arm or at least a wrist, but not this one. In the next CSN video, there’s Jennifer in the midst of chaos as Fred Thomas takes his best shot and blows Evan Hendricks away. It was more exciting than some of the scenes in his favorite Quentin Tarantino movies. He’d remembered cheering in front of his television.
All in all, he’d had a damn good week. He’d whisked Tiffany Chase out of the park without even one witness, had his fun with her at his cabin, and then — miracle of all miracles — it rains! And it was a toad-strangler. He’d gotten Tiffany to her final resting place when the sky opened up and rain gushed down her body like a river dam had broken, efficiently washing away any trace evidence that might have been left after her bath and bleaching.
Then the week got even better when he’d learned that Evan Hendricks was the person of interest for both Tiffany’s and Catherine’s murder. He almost chuckled aloud at the thought. The police actually thought that Evan Hendricks was responsible for the brilliant abductions and murders he’d achieved. They couldn’t be serious. And that TV bitch Grace Cohn couldn’t shut her trap about how Evan lived in the community as a quiet youth minister when in reality he could be a sociopathic serial killer. Seriously? Did people really think that Evan Hendricks had the brainpower to plan abductions and no-evidence murders? It was fucking ridiculous. He’d honed his skills for years.