Officer Next Door (Lock and Key)

by Ranae Rose

  “Hey, I’m not judging you. I wish her brunette friend was my neighbor. Then I could’ve talked her into staying the night at my place. For ‘safety reasons’. And Henry, you could’ve asked the blonde. I’ve seen the way you look at her.”

  Henry said nothing, just gave Grey a hard look.

  Grey grinned. “Just imagine – you two could make candlelit love in your bomb shelter to the sweet sound of your police scanner. And then—”

  “Shut up,” Henry said, “or I’ll tell the brunette you like so much about your little scheme to sleep with her.”

  Grey rolled his eyes. “If you blow my chances, I’m taking you down with me. So if you ever want to lay a finger on the chef, you won’t say anything.”

  “All right ladies,” Liam said. “Stop fighting. We’ve got to get to work. Every second you spend bickering over who gets to sleep with who in your wishful thinking fantasies is a second that the Levinson brothers spend getting farther away from us.”

  Grey grumbled while Henry was predictably silent.

  The search started fresh, and although Liam had criticized Grey and Henry for dwelling on women, he couldn’t stop thinking about Alicia.

  * * * * *

  It was a relief to arrive at Wisteria a few minutes before nine am. The four and a half hours Alicia had spent alone at Liam’s place had been unnerving; every little sound had inspired thoughts of the escaped convicts, and it’d been all too easy to imagine one or both of them lurking in the silent swath of pines behind the house. Those nervous hours had seemed far removed from the breathless, sexy mood of her half a night with Liam.

  There was no question: she had it bad. But then, how could any woman not, especially after what they’d done during her overnight stay at his place?

  The night before had been a dream, sweet and hot, then drifting briefly into nightmare. Though she’d been frightened, the ordeal had also allowed her to experience something she never had before: the absolute sense of safety she’d felt in Liam’s arms, even with shattered glass glittering on the floor.

  Though she’d always considered herself a happily independent woman, she had to admit that it’d felt good to let him hold her until the police had arrived, his gun within reach on the counter, his hands on her body.

  “See you tonight,” she’d said when he’d left early that morning – or late the night before, depending on how she looked at it. She couldn’t wait to find herself back in his company.

  For now, she walked Holden inside, where she found Sasha and Kerry seated with their heads together and a newspaper between them on a little bench in the foyer.

  It wasn’t quite nine o’clock yet, but usually Sasha would be in the restaurant kitchen and Kerry upstairs or in the laundry room anyway.

  “What’s so interesting?” Alicia asked, steeling herself against the possibility of a morbid answer. Was it possible that Liam had been wrong about his cousin calling if there were any further developments in the Levinson brothers’ escape?

  “This couple of psychos,” Sasha said, not even looking up from the printed page. “Have you read this yet?”

  “No.”

  Sasha scooted over on the bench without a word, leaving just enough room for Alicia to squeeze onto the end.

  Unable to resist, she fixed her gaze on the front page of the Riley Gazette, knowing without having to ask who the pair of ‘psychos’ was.

  Sure enough, photos of Troy and Randy Levinson stared back at her. The mug shots were recent, showing messy facial hair and pale, cold-looking blue eyes, though the article focused more on their pasts than their present status as fugitives.

  The past 48 hours’ events have catapulted the Levinson brothers into nationwide notoriety, but evidence suggests that the fugitives’ pattern of violent and anti-authoritarian behavior began during childhood, a time period that proved a fertile breeding ground for criminal sentiments and actions that would endure into adulthood.

  Alicia read on, increasingly repulsed by a story of abuse, alcoholism and rumored revenge. According to the article, the Levinson brothers had grown up in a tiny hamlet in South Carolina, where their father had served as a county police officer, until his alcoholism had cost him his job. By all reports, the Levinson household had been a hellhole – though the newspaper used milder language – where each and every member was unhappy. Hateful. Maybe even murderous.

  The house had gone up in flames when Randy Levinson had been 17 and Troy 15. Both parents had died in their bed, but the boys had escaped unharmed. Both had been questioned about the origins of the fire, but they’d insisted upon innocence and an arson investigation had been inconclusive.

  “That’s awful,” Alicia said when she’d finished reading.

  Sasha and Kerry were both already done.

  “Isn’t it?” Sasha asked. “I don’t know how anyone could abuse their own children … or how anyone could murder their own parents.”

  “According to the article, it’s just a theory,” Alicia said. “Nothing was ever proven.”

  She said it, but she didn’t have an overabundance of faith in the Levinson brothers’ innocence. Even if they hadn’t set the fire, the article had made one thing clear: they hated law enforcement officers with a sick, deep-rooted passion.

  Their criminal lives had been characterized by belligerent and often violent encounters with the law, culminating in the murder of two officers who’d been assigned to their theft cases about a year ago, and then the more recent killing of a Riley correctional officer. To say that they had a problem with authority didn’t even begin to cover it.

  “Yeah well,” Sasha said, “one of them killed that innocent nurse. I don’t see why they’d hesitate to murder anyone who actually did something to piss them off.”

  Alicia couldn’t help but acknowledge the likelihood of Sasha’s sentiments, and that fact made her blood run cold. After all, Liam was a correctional officer, and the previous night’s events were still fresh in her mind.

  It hadn’t escaped her that Liam had been a part of the team that’d shot Troy Levinson, either. Hell, he’d given the order.

  “What do you think, Kerry?” Alicia searched the other woman’s dark eyes and saw her fears – the ones she felt in her bones – confirmed there.

  “I agree with Sasha, actually.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” Alicia said. “And so do I. Wait until you hear what happened last night.”

  * * * * *

  “I can’t believe I forgot that get-together Sasha steamrolled everyone into is tonight,” Alicia said, leaning against the railing of Liam’s kitchen counter.

  It was evening already; he’d just gotten home after another crazily long shift at work. He felt his fatigue deep in his bones, but the sight of her revitalized him, at least enough to sustain a hard-on when he looked at her in the jean shorts she must’ve pulled out of her little overnight bag after getting home from work.

  She’d gone straight to his place, letting herself in with a spare key he’d given her that morning. She’d been expecting him to get home around the same time, and he felt bad that she’d had to wait.

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind,” he pointed out as he stripped off his duty belt. So had he, and he’d completely forgotten. Henry had mentioned it early that day, reminding Liam that they were all supposed to have dinner at Alicia’s place that evening.

  “Sasha reminded me about ten minutes after I got to work this morning. Thank God she’s set on doing all the cooking – I haven’t done anything to prepare, and everyone will be here in less than an hour. Unless, of course, you, Henry and Grey would prefer to postpone – I know you’ve had one hell of a long day. We could always do this another time.”

  “No need to cancel – we’re all up for sitting around and eating a dinner we didn’t have to cook. It’s either that or pizza.” The thought of sinking into a chair with an ice cold beer and eating whatever Alicia’s chef friend whipped up sounded pretty good.

  “Okay. I
f you’re sure, I’d better get ready.”

  “Anything you need help with?” Visions of bending her over one of her kitchen counters flooded his mind, but if she needed assistance with something decidedly less satisfying, he’d help with that too.

  She shook her head. “I was just going to clean up a little, maybe pick up ingredients for more of that sangria. Everyone seemed to like it.”

  “Want me to go with you to the store?”

  “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I’d like to.” He didn’t want to leave her alone at all if he didn’t have to – not given the fact that the search was still ongoing.

  He changed out of his sweaty uniform and into regular clothes. Within moments, they were both in his car and on their way to pick up sangria ingredients.

  He pulled into the parking lot of Cypress’ main grocery store – Piggly Wiggly. While Alicia went inside to pick up wine, juice and fresh fruit, he waited in the car with Holden, who’d leapt into the vehicle before they’d taken off.

  He would’ve liked to go in with her – just in case – but dogs weren’t allowed, and it was too hot to leave a pet alone in the car. So he sat with the AC cranked up, fending off Holden’s hand-licking attacks while he watched the storefront intently. It was the farthest thing from likely that the Levinson brothers would stroll into a popular grocery store in the heart of Cypress, but after last night, his caution knew no bounds.

  Neither did his affection for Alicia. Just the thought of so much as a tiny shard of glass scratching her skin made him want to rip someone’s head off. Namely, the person who’d thrown the rock through his kitchen window. He had his Glock in the console, just in case.

  Luckily, Alicia emerged from Piggly Wiggly with two grocery bags and no sign of having encountered any trouble.

  “Any other stops?” he asked when she climbed back inside the car.

  She shook her head as he pulled out of the parking lot, scanning the shoppers walking to and from their vehicles for any sign of a notorious face. All he saw was a sunburnt guy in boardshorts and a mom wrangling a couple of preschoolers into a shopping cart.

  “How was work?” he asked, because he wanted to know and because he simply liked the sound of her voice.

  “Okay on the actual work front – I started planning a wedding for a really sweet bride today. She’s a breath of fresh air in comparison to the phone-happy one getting married next month. Everyone at Wisteria was a little tense though. You know… Because of the Levinson brothers. A couple of guests left early.”

  “Yeah?” By ‘everyone’, he assumed she meant her two friends, the ones they’d be having dinner with that evening. Somehow, he had a feeling the event wouldn’t be quite as jovial as the last one had been. On the other hand, at least escaped convicts were a more legitimate fear than ghosts. The escapees would be caught soon, and after that, no one would have to worry about them going bump in the night.

  “Yeah. Which reminds me of something – I came up with a theory today after reading an article in the paper.”

  “A theory about what?”

  “About last night’s incident.”

  An uneasy feeling settled into his gut as he looked away from the road for half a second to glimpse her pretty face. There was a little line between her eyebrows, and she looked as if she was about to drop a bomb on him. “What is it?”

  “I think the Levinson brothers may have been responsible for throwing that rock.”

  He’d already known that possibility had crossed her mind – it’d been written all over her face the night before. “Why?”

  “There was an article about them in the paper today. It was about their childhoods – they grew up with an alcoholic cop for a father. Their home life was really unhappy and both their parents were killed in a house fire when the boys were teenagers.

  “They were questioned about possibly setting the fire, but the investigation never really went anywhere. They’ve shown a pattern of hatred and violence toward law enforcement officers – I think they target them on purpose. They resent them so deeply, they can’t resist.”

  “So you think they’re targeting me?”

  “Someone definitely is, and that seems to make the most sense. After all… You’re part of PERT. You gave the order for Troy Levinson to be shot.”

  It was a thought that’d already occurred to Liam. Did Troy Levinson know he was a PERT officer, and if he did, was he bent on revenge? He hadn’t made it inside Riley’s gates this time, but he’d been incarcerated there before. It was possible he remembered certain officers – maybe even Liam.

  It seemed kind of stupid – the more time the fugitives spent in Riley County, the more likely they were to get caught. But then, the reason they’d been incarcerated in the first place was for murdering two cops – a premeditated, cold-blooded crime. Given that, there might just be some truth in Alicia’s theory.

  If the Levinson brothers really had killed their parents as payback for shitty childhoods, they’d been more twisted than most criminals for a long, long time and were clearly willing to risk everything in the name of revenge.

  “What do you think?” Alicia was looking right at him, her hazel eyes trained on his face, her expression serious.

  “If you’re right, at least one of the Levinson brothers is still in Riley County. I talked to Jeremy today and he said they’ve got a lead on a sighting down in South Carolina. Supposedly multiple people called in to report spotting one of the brothers at a bus station. They’re pursuing the tip.”

  “Which brother was it that they reported seeing?”

  “Randy.” He met her gaze for the briefest of moments and saw the information settling in.

  Her frown deepened, and he knew what she was thinking: Randy might have fled the state, but Troy was the one who’d sustained a bullet wound – they knew because the bus station footage showed Randy using both arms, uninjured. Troy was the one who’d lingered in Riley County at least long enough to seek treatment and take a nurse’s life. The one who had a reason to harbor a grudge against Liam specifically.

  “Hey,” he said, catching her eye again, “if Troy Levinson is still in Riley County, that just means he’s going to get caught soon. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place isn’t exactly a sprawling metropolis. There’s not a large enough population for him to blend into, and the locals are all on high-alert, keeping an eye out for him. Even if he was the one who threw the rock, he’ll be where he belongs soon: behind bars.”

  “I hope you’re right. But until then…” She waited until he met her eyes to continue. “Be careful?”

  “I’m always careful.”

  She didn’t know about the Glock in the console, about the many threats he’d faced before from the men he was paid to keep locked up. She didn’t know he’d been thinking all day on how to keep her safe, but he had been. Careless was the last thing he planned to be.

  “Good.” She settled back against her seat with a sigh, scratching Holden between the ears. For the last couple minutes of the drive, they rode in silence, the wind whipping in through the partially-open windows, providing the only sound.

  When they reached their tiny neighborhood of two, he pulled into her driveway instead of his, since the dinner was supposed to be held at her place. He took the shopping bags while she handled Holden, and they climbed the short flight of stairs onto her porch.

  She was digging in her purse for her keys when he realized that something was wrong.

  CHAPTER 15

  The jingle of keys sounded and Holden’s toenails clicked against the porch’s floorboards, but Alicia didn’t move past Liam to unlock the door. “What is it? Oh, no…”

  They stood together at the front door, which was open by just a hair.

  “I know I locked the door behind myself before coming over to your place yesterday,” she said.

  He nodded. “I saw you do it.”

  He took her by the hand. “Come with me.”

  They
retreated to the car, where he retrieved his Glock. “Wait right here. I’m going to make sure there’s no one in the house.”

  He found no one inside, just an empty home haunted by a breeze that blew in through the bathroom window. It took a good deal of self-control to keep from shooting the billowing curtains that lashed out at him as he entered the small room.

  The shower was empty, and the closet too. The blinds were in disarray though, bent and broken. There was some dirt smeared in the bottom of the tub, the blurred shapes reminiscent of footprints. Fainter tracks stained the bathroom tile, fading by the time they reached the door. His blood ran cold at the sight, and he trekked upstairs to finish clearing the house, just in case.

  The intruder was long gone. In his wake, there was a certain tension in the air, the realization that Alicia and potentially deadly danger had just missed each other. A gut feeling told him that whoever had thrown the rock through his kitchen window had climbed through her window, too. Two unrelated incidents occurring within hours of each other at both their houses was too much to be a coincidence.

  The invasion had to have happened later that night, after the police had left. An officer had checked the house – Jeremy had said so.

  He returned to Alicia, and the moment she met his eyes, her face went white. “What’s wrong – should I call the police?”

  He pulled his phone from his pocket. “I’ve got that covered. Someone was inside your house – probably last night, after the police left, or sometime today.”

  If possible, she turned even paler. “How did they get in? The door doesn’t look damaged.”

  “Your bathroom window was open. Did you leave it unlocked?”

  She pressed a hand to her stomach, as if she felt sick. “I don’t know, which I guess is as good as ‘yes’. I made sure my other windows were locked… I can’t believe I forgot that one. I’m such an idiot.”

  Privately, he entertained notions of camping out in the tub beneath her bathroom window, ready to use the billowy curtains to strangle any shitbag who dared to enter through it. Or better yet – he’d just continue to keep her safe and all to himself at his place.