by R. T. Wolfe
She thought how his muscles, still pronounced, weren't as massive as they'd been when they were younger. He was more defined now. She traced her fingers around the lines of his lats to his abs. She could lose herself in him, in this. Swirls of passion, their future and the intense need she let herself fall into strengthened her desire. Pressing against his hard backside, she reached around and explored the outline of the soapy squares of his six-pack down to his thick thighs. She let her body rub along him.
Andy knew her well enough to know that she wasn't the type to accept without giving back. He felt her against his back, her hands and the moment she found him.
Bracing, he dropped his head between his outstretched arms holding out, waiting until primal instinct took over. He needed to touch her. Turning, he took hold of the back of her thighs, lifted her easily, and hitched her legs around his sides. He waited until she looked at him. Then, watched her blue eyes as they joined.
The blue grew foggy as she let out a staggering growl and dug her fingers into the muscles on his back. Her face was intense, her grip fierce. Hot water sprayed over them as their pace quickened; he rotated her back to the wall.
Without breaking eye contact, he dropped his forehead to hers as she nodded. He grabbed hold of the backs of her thighs as they went over the final edge together. They stood for what seemed like a long and glorious time. Gasping and shuddering, the water ran over them until their breathing returned to normal.
His legs were nearly as weak as hers. So, he used his body weight and the wall of the shower to keep her wrapped around him. He began to lower her feet to the floor, but she grunted and locked the backs of her feet together behind him.
He sighed at the overwhelming feel of her all around him, inside and out. He turned off the water with one hand, then grabbed one of the large, heated towels. He carried her half-covered to the bed. Dropping her gently down, he lay on his back next to her and tossed the towel over the two of them.
With his forearm covering both his eyes, he muttered, "They said forty to fifty minutes."
"Hmm?" Rose lay in the exact same position.
"Room service. They said forty to fifty minutes."
She opened one eye at him. "That was forty to fifty minutes ago."
* * *
Amanda went to the station after work instead of going home alone, just as she'd promised. She stayed out of the way, listening quietly as the team waited for a conference call with the assistant to the office of Nicaragua's ambassador to the United Nations.
Miguel. That was his name. After all these years, she knew his real name. Miguel Ramirez.
Silence followed a series of beeps as Lieutenant Tanner, Dave and Officer Savage straightened in their chairs. Amanda assumed the assistant to the ambassador had connected. Dave looked over at her and she took the hint, slipping out to wait in the break room.
Her feelings were divided. Part of her was relieved that his face was broadcasted on news stations and posted in every train, bus and police station from here to the Mississippi. The other part of her was terrified for the very same reason.
He was getting closer. Had he recognized Rose when he was spotted at the end of the Reeds' drive? Or was he simply scouting the area like he did? Waiting for a time when Amanda would be alone... just as Dave was trying to avoid.
It didn't seem long enough before Dave opened his door for her again. She wondered if it went badly but didn't ask. She was only allowed in the room as a civilian consultant and knew not to push her luck.
She listened as they reviewed the call. From what she could gather, the ambassador's assistant wasn't nearly as upset about the breach in their database. There was a local warrant that was very old. What she found interesting was they discovered his father had allegedly raped his mother and, in turn, conceived him. Irony.
He was half white, light-skinned with blond hair. A gringo. She remembered the degrading term from her days in Nicaragua. The consultant psychologist would have a field day with all of that, she thought. All she saw was a weak man who liked to abuse and control women... whatever the reason.
Dave. She sighed. She was forgiven. He was so focused as he used his hands to explain plans to his assistant. Tanner left and was replaced with a handful of paper-pushers. That was what Dave called them. They flipped through a slide show that Officer Savage had created, showing grainy photos of possible sightings in convenient stores, train stations and buildings that were home to other victims.
"Stop." She bolted out of her chair, abandoning all plans to stay out of the way.
The eyes of Dave, Officer Savage and the handful of lower-level officers on the case turned to look at her.
"Go back. Go back, please." There. That was him. She angled her head to be certain, then repeated aloud, "That's him."
Officer Savage spoke up first. "Are you sure? It's barely a profile, Mrs. Nolan. Not a close up."
"It's him. I... I can't tell you... it's the way he's standing... or I guess, walking."
Officer Savage read the date and location of the photo. "Boston, two weeks ago. Apartment hallway."
Amanda wrung her hands.
"Get BPD on the phone. Find out who lives there."
Chapter 27
They took the first flight out. Thankfully, Dave included Amanda in her civilian consultant capacity. Lieutenant Tanner had agreed with Dave that the other victims would be more likely to open up to her, especially since Miguel had a history of threatening women if they went to the police. Dave had explained that the lieutenant granted leave and funding for stops at three of the most likely other hits: Chicago, Boston and Pittsburg. He said it made up three flights and two over-state-line trips in rental cars. It was going to be a long two days.
The station in Boston was much like the one in Northridge right down to the smell of the stale coffee. Dave came out of the captain's office at the Boston Police Department. He'd asked Officer Savage to wait with her. Amanda recognized that she would wait without question because he asked her to, but also that it burned her up. "VanDellan, Rebecca." Dave gestured his head toward the stairwell.
Amanda hugged herself as they walked toward the exit.
"Age thirty-seven. Found dead in her apartment at the corner of Washington and Jefferson." Dave read as he walked down the stairs, pausing to wait when they heard other footsteps. "Four reports in the past five years of robbery and assault. The first was a sexual assault."
"Penetration?" Amanda asked.
Dave winced, then nodded.
"So, he kills some, especially when he's been scorned."
"Apparently. We've gotten the okay to view the scene. The captain's sending a local uniform as an escort."
* * *
The smell of death still permeated the air. Amanda didn't attempt to cover her nose. The place was small. The woman had lived alone. She wondered if it was because she didn't want to bring this down on the people she loved.
It felt eerie as she stood out of the way and watched Dave and Officer Savage work. They wore gloves but still were careful not to tamper with anything. How many times had he been here? she wondered. How many years? What made him choose her? Would all that be in the police report? She would wait to ask Dave. She imagined the woman saying just the wrong words with Miguel in just the right state of mind, and realized how lucky she was to still be alive today.
Barely, she noticed something warm and wet on her face. Her purse slipped down her arm. The room became louder. The air conditioning? Why was it so loud?
She came to in Dave's arms. He was rocking her.
"I'm okay, really," she mumbled. "I probably should have sat down is all."
"I shouldn't have brought you here. What was I thinking?"
She forced herself upright but knew not to stand just yet. "You did the right thing. I'm all right. I'll sit next time. How much do you think the other girls will tell you without me?" At that moment, she realized Miguel would have used pictures of her grandfather. Certainly he would. She felt li
ght-headed all over again and buried her face in Dave's shoulder.
* * *
Andy and Rose canceled much of their plans and decided instead to stay in their room, leaving only when they tired of room service. While sunning on the balcony, they made plans for their future. They lounged in the Jacuzzi and snacked on trays of pretzels and chocolates. Plans ranged from the rest of the summer, the next year, all the way to how many children they wanted. They made love between ideas until their arms and legs could simply fall from their bodies and lie as if detached on the oversized bed.
Andy had come back with graphing paper from a morning coffee and bagel run.
He sat on one of the leather chairs, sketching designs for their home. She noted that Nathan and Duncan's artistic genes hadn't passed over him. The drafts were detailed, creative and to scale. He wanted big; she wanted small. He wanted wood; she wanted brick. As they had learned to do, they met somewhere in the middle. She had never really thought of choices of rooms, sizes of rooms or roll-out drawers versus shelves. She generally unpacked her few things at the cheapest place she could find.
He seemed to know her wants and needs better than she did. A general area on the main floor was designed just for her to get away. It included space for her tech equipment and a desk facing two walls of windows that looked out to a large area built for any injured animals that needed round-the-clock care. He made a place for Charcoal and any other strays she may pick up. A door equipped with an animal flap for a dog to get in and out led out to the other areas.
As he sat next to her, he propped his feet on her thighs, crossing them at the ankles. She recognized the slight squint he did when concentrating deeply. As if he came out of a zone, he looked over to her, set his graph pad down on his lap and leaned back, clasping his hands on the top of his head.
"I'm in love with you." She stood and walked to him, replacing the graphing pad with herself on his lap. "We're going to be married." She kissed him lightly. "We're going to be married, and you gave me exactly the weekend I needed." This time, she drew out the kiss, meshing lips and tongues, tilting her head to sink deeper.
"How am I supposed to plan for our home when all of the blood has drained from my head?"
She reached toward the coffee table to pick up the pad. "Explain."
He detailed his ideas and made revisions as she described her thoughts and the needs of any animals that may come to stay with them. She found herself as excited as a teenager getting her first puppy. She watched him as he erased and revised, and she thought of how he took her away this weekend, mostly to explain his reasons for his passions. Instead of reluctantly accepting, she'd found herself diving in with him and, oh, it was an amazing fall. She could picture herself in this home he created on paper, living with her best friend, her lover, her husband; and raising their children and teaching them about conservation and building.
She realized he, too, had become not only accepting of her lifestyle but developed his own need to do his part. And, he was in love with the cranky, self-serving Gracie every bit as much as she was.
They never made any mention of the years that had been stolen from them or of her biological father. No one would see anything from Rose except a woman in love, taking an extended weekend away with her lover.
No one needed to know about the private mornings when she wrapped her hands and beat the heavy bag in the hotel gym as if her life depended on it. Without condemnation, Andy worked the weights, allowing her all the alone time she needed.
* * *
Rose picked up Grace at Wes' place on her way into work. Still weird, she thought. Grace's toffee skin had a rosy glow. Her dark, shiny hair tied low in a smooth tail.
"You look clean and neat and... not wrinkled. You have a drawer. You have a drawer and closet space at Wesley McGee's apartment."
Grace grinned now, coy and ear to ear. "What if?"
"What if I said that if you give me even one detail, you'll be scooping poop for a month?"
"Well I want details," Grace said. "Lots of details. The knight, eh? I have two words. Yum and yum."
It was Rose's turn at coy. Damn it, Grace was right. "I'm swinging by my mother's. It was too late when I got home last night to see her. She makes a great cup of coffee."
"You're the boss." Grace propped her feet on the dash and rested her head back on the seat.
"Well... it's great to see you," Rose told her.
"Huh? Really. In that case, I'll tell you that Gracie is fed and exercised. How well fed and exercised might be a different story. I don't know how you do it. She's all yours."
* * *
"Hello?" Andy called as he walked to the door of his office, with his keys in one hand and his briefcase in the other. He sighed at the tall piles Delores had left him, piles he had all but ignored and wondered when he could get to them. When his phone rang, he put his keys in his front pocket and pulled out his phone. He wondered who was calling his private number at this hour.
"It's me."
"What's with the blocked number, Duncan?" He held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he dug his keys back out.
"I found something. Is your computer up, yet?"
He stopped walking. "It's already been up. I was just leaving for an appointment." He turned back and was glad he'd left it on. "Sup?"
"I sent you an attachment. Open it."
"Okay, okay. What've you got?"
"He's in Binghamton."
"You mean Ramirez? He was just spotted in Boston a day or so ago." Andy could hear his brother sigh heavily on the other end of the phone. Waiting for his computer to wake up, he asked, "What have you been up to while I was gone?"
"I've been looking through the Northridge Police Department's computer files on Amanda and Rose. I found him. I'm sure of it."
Andy sat in front of his computer. "How? What?" Damn it, load!
"Hundreds of tips have come through since the wanted posters went up. I've been combing through them."
The still photo popped up. It wasn't clear. The person was walking away, but it seemed like he turned and looked right at the camera. "I can hardly even tell this is a man, Duncan. What time is it out there?"
"Damn it, listen to me! It's him. The eyes." He made a frustrated growl Andy had only heard a few times in their lives. "This picture was taken yesterday. Some single, old dude who lives in an apartment they're watching. He's called in so many times that they aren't listening to him anymore."
Andy dipped his head closer to the screen. "Fuck." He pushed away from his desk and left everything as he ran for the door.
* * *
Amanda stood in the doorway watching him. Dave pulled apart the knot in his tie for the second time, grunted and started again.
She slipped between him and the mirrored dresser. Taking the tie from him, she didn't ask but stated, "You got a call."
"It's not that I can't tie my own damned tie. I'm just pissed off, that's all." He paused for a minute. "Yes, I got a call."
"Anything about Michael... Miguel?"
Dave placed his hands on the sides of her face and took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"
She wrapped her fingers around his forearms and squeezed. "Is it Rose?"
"No. No, not Rose." Dave shook his head.
She felt the muscles in her face relax. "I can take anything, then."
"What time is Rose coming by?"
"Any minute now. She called not too long ago and is en route."
She finished with the tie. Dave checked the safety on his gun and placed it in his holster. His phone vibrated at his waist. He looked at the number. Taking her hand to his lips, he kissed her fingers. "We're getting closer. There was another possible spotting not far from the Boston site. I'll call you when I find out." He leaned over and took her face in his hands. "I love you."
She kissed him and stepped out of his way.
* * *
Rose rounded onto the familiar cul-de-sac. She'd gone for much longer b
efore without seeing her mother, yet the ache in her heart seared. Should she be gentle? Talk about it? Not mention it? The elephant in the room. She decided to be herself.
She and Grace walked up the familiar concrete path passed the aged weeping willow to the front porch. As she reached to push the door open farther, she heard a man's voice. Next, she heard the sound of Charcoal going mad from the back of the house. Straining her ear toward the screen door, she listened. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest.
"You thought you could beat me at this."
"Please, you can have anything. I have money. Lots of money."
"It was only a matter of time before he left you alone. Not so tough without the Taser, are you, Mandy baby? I bought my own toy."
Rose heard him cock it. She motioned for Grace to call for help, then crept silently through the door. She worked to control her ragged breathing as she tried to assess where he was, where her mother was. Whimpering came from far inside the kitchen.
"Mmm. You make me hard when you do that."
"You're right. Of course you're right. What can I do, Miguel?"
"You don't call me that!"
Rose peered around the corner just as her mother's head jerked from a pistol whipping and fell to her knees. "Please don't, not now, please," she choked. "You can have anything. Have me."
Rose watched her mother open the front of her blouse as blood dripped down the side of her face. She nearly wretched at the horrifying sight.
Her mother noticed her from the corner of her eye just long enough for Miguel to see the flicker. He had a smirk on his face as he twirled the gun, ready to shoot.
Chapter 28
As he turned, Rose jumped with one foot and kicked with the other, sending the gun flying across the room. Miguel used a left hook, but she was faster. She ducked and he lost his balance from swinging at air. She used her weight and momentum to plant her fist in his gut. He swayed but stayed up, clenching his fists. Faking a low kick, he took the bait and went to block as she spun and sunk her heel into the side of his head.