by Jami Alden
Tommy squinted, but after a few seconds he saw what Kortlang was talking about. Once you got off the trail the undergrowth was pretty thick, but there was no mistaking the outline of a footprint.
They painstakingly picked their way through the brush and followed a half dozen more footsteps before the trail petered out again. Tommy’s neck tightened with frustration as he scanned the area and saw nothing.
He held up his thermal imager and turned it in a slow circle, keeping it low to the ground in case it picked up on anything in the underbrush. He hit on a red blob but knew immediately it was too small to be human. They bushwhacked several more yards, cursing as branches snagged on their skin and clothes.
Tommy lifted the sensor, his eyes flying open as it revealed essentially a wall of red somewhere directly in front of him. It was big, big enough to be a vehicle or even a structure of some sort. And though he couldn’t see it to save his life, there was no denying its existence.
He quickly let the rest of the team know what he’d discovered and waited for Jackson and Ben to catch up to him before he went any further.
“I don’t suppose there’s any convincing you to wait for me to arrive,” CJ said.
Tommy looked down at his GPS monitor and noted CJ’s position. “Not unless you can cover two kilometers in less than thirty seconds.”
CJ merely grunted and reminded Tommy not to screw with anything that could be used as evidence.
They didn’t see the trailer until they were almost on top of it. Hidden in a thicket of chokecherry trees, painted shades of green and brown to perfectly blend in with the surroundings, it was no wonder it had gone entirely unnoticed by the helicopters that had flown over the area days before.
Tommy, Ben, and Jackson quickly skirted around the edge, and Tommy mentally cataloged the details. The trailer was about twenty feet long, single wide, set up on blocks. From the way the blocks had settled into the earth, it looked like it had been there for a long, long time.
As they circled, he noticed that every single window was boarded up tight, with nails driven into the aluminum sides of the trailer.
The front door was incongruously insecure, the flimsy thing armed only with a standard knob lock and latch. “Ben, you stay behind us,” Tommy said as he drew his weapon and watched Jackson do the same. One blow from his booted foot sent the metal door crumpling inward. Tommy froze a minute, allowing his eyes to adjust to the nearly full darkness as he stepped inside. He waited a couple of breaths but heard nothing.
Gun in one hand, Maglite in the other, he swept the beam across the room, his nose wrinkling at the hot, close air in the trailer. There was a musky, dank smell to the air but not, Tommy noticed with relief, the sick rot scent of death.
The room was mostly unfurnished, nothing but a cheap plastic table and a single chair. Off to the right was a short hallway, with a door leading to the trailer’s bedroom. Tommy’s stomach flipped when he saw the door was secured with an industrial-grade combination lock.
The kind you used only when you really wanted to keep someone out—or in.
“Don’t suppose anyone brought bolt cutters?” he muttered. “Hands over ears, guys,” he said as he lifted his M9 Beretta a couple inches from the lock. A loud crack and the lock popped open.
Tommy barely had the lock off before Jackson was pushing past him through the door.
“Tricia!” Jackson rushed over to the slender figure splayed across the bed, her wrists secured to the headboard by metal cuffs.
His stomach clenched when he saw that Tricia didn’t move when Jackson called her name and shook her lightly.
“Is she…” Ben asked.
Jackson had his fingers against Tricia’s neck, but they were shaking too hard to get a pulse. Tommy gently pushed him aside and pressed his fingers along the side of Tricia’s throat and bent low to hear her breath. “She’s alive.” There was a chorus of cheers as CJ and the other members of the search party took in the good news.
“But she’s unresponsive. Dehydrated and possibly drugged is my guess,” he continued. He pressed a hand to her forehead. “She’s running a fever.” He heard Jackson suck in a breath, and when he focused the flashlight down he saw why.
In addition to the bruises mottling her skin and circling her throat, she had an ugly gash halfway down her thigh. The flesh was red and swollen around the jagged edges.
“She’s got a four-inch laceration on her leg that looks infected. She’s also sustained some trauma to her face and head—”
“Christ, he beat the crap out of her. He beat my little girl,” Jackson said, horrified.
“We need to get her out of here as quickly as possible.”
“Her leg is badly infected,” Dr. Schmidt said, his face grim. “But the good news is that it doesn’t look like we’re dealing with antibiotic-resistant bacteria,” he said to the group waiting anxiously in the waiting room for an update. “In addition, it appears she’s been sedated with something that’s still working through her system. She also has mild heatstroke.”
“What about her head injury?” Jackson asked tightly.
“She has a slight skull fracture, but there doesn’t appear to be any subdural bleeding. I think once we get her fluids up, her fever comes down, and whatever she was sedated with wears off, we should see a lot of improvement.”
Kate, Tommy, and the rest of the group echoed Jackson’s sigh, and Kate heard Brooke’s muffled sob of relief as she buried her head against Ben’s chest. The tension eased from her muscles so abruptly Kate felt like she was going to melt like a puddle onto the floor.
“When will we be able to question her?” CJ asked. His hair was rumpled as though he’d run his hands through it, and his uniform was smudged with dirt and ripped in several places.
“She needs to regain consciousness first,” the doctor said, the edge in his voice belying his kind eyes. “Then we can determine what she’s up for.”
CJ nodded grimly. “I’m glad we got her back safe, but I’ll be damned if I let whoever did this to her get away with it,” he told Jackson. “I’m going to head back to the trailer and make sure the guys don’t miss anything while they’re processing the scene.”
“Can I see her?” Jackson asked.
The doctor nodded and motioned for Jackson to follow.
Kate’s stomach knotted as she saw the way Brooke shifted uncertainly in her chair, half rising as though to follow, then sitting back down, unsure of her welcome.
As though he heard her thoughts, Jackson hesitated before he pushed through the double doors leading to the exam room. “Brooke, honey, aren’t you coming?”
Brooke nodded eagerly and hurried to her father’s side. Kate felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest when Jackson caught his daughter in a quick, fierce hug and bent his head to whisper something Kate couldn’t hear.
Whatever it was, it made Brooke clutch her father harder before they went back to see Tricia.
“They’re going to be okay,” Tommy said, and covered her hand with his. Kate looked down at their joined hands, warmth coursing all the way up her arm, down to her belly and lower where it pulsed in anticipation.
And just like that, the mood shifted between them from overwhelming relief in the wake of Tricia’s rescue to electric, crackling awareness.
Tommy’s fingers tightened around hers. “How are you feeling?”
If she really focused on it, somewhere in the background Kate could pick up the dull pain of her injuries. “I hardly feel a thing.” It was true. They were easily ignored in favor of the way Tommy’s dark eyes glittered hungrily as they raked over her, creating a sharp ache that easily eclipsed any caused by the blow she’d taken to the head.
“Good,” Tommy said, his lips pulling in a smile as he raised their clasped hands and placed a firm kiss on the back of hers. “I just need to say goodbye to Jackson.”
He was back in under a minute, and in a moment of déjà vu, they were skirting through the exam rooms and
sneaking out the back entrance of the hospital. But this time, instead of trying not to throw up from the pain in her head, Kate was giggling like a teenager as they ducked through the hallway in an effort not to be seen.
A nurse passed them, a quizzical look on her face. Kate struggled to keep her composure, straightening her spine and dropping back a little bit to allow more space between herself and Tommy. Still, she worried that anyone passing them could feel the electricity between them and would know exactly what they planned to do as soon as they were alone.
They turned the corner to the back door. “Wait here while I get the truck,” Tommy said. Kate nodded. Tommy reached for the door, but a split second before he opened it he reached for Kate instead.
“What are you—” was all Kate could get out before her back was pressed to the wall, Tommy’s mouth covering hers in a kiss that threatened to consume her. A tiny voice in the back of her head warned her that this wasn’t a good idea, that someone could walk by and see them at any moment.
The voice dissolved in a burst of light and heat at the hot slide of Tommy’s tongue against hers, the heat of his big hands wrapping around the curve of her hip, molding her to him. As always, the second he touched her, the rest of the world faded to the background, until all she knew was him.
He pulled away with a groan and reality came crashing back. “Oh my God, we can’t do this here,” she said shakily, though her arms were still looped around him. Her view was mostly blocked by his broad chest, but she looked around frantically to see if anyone was coming. “Why did you do that? Anyone could have seen us.”
“Because I felt like if I didn’t get to kiss you my head was going to explode. And no one is around to see.” He stepped back, letting her see the empty corridor for herself.
Kate blew out a sigh of relief and pushed him toward the door. “Go get the truck before I let you make me forget we’re in a public place again.”
As worried as she was about getting caught, that didn’t suppress the thrill sizzling through her. The same thrill she’d gotten the first time she snuck out to be with Tommy so many years ago.
As she waited for him, she felt a pinch of doubt. The last time she let her crazy desire for Tommy drive her to break the rules it had ended in disaster. What if…
She pushed the thought firmly aside. She couldn’t allow herself to dwell on past tragedies. What had happened was awful and she’d never get over it, but she couldn’t let that stand in the way of a second chance at happiness.
With Tommy.
Which was exactly what she wanted, she admitted to herself, equally thrilled and terrified at the realization. But what if he didn’t want the same thing?
Tommy’s truck pulled up. He got out of the cab, and all of Kate’s what-ifs died as she drank in that long-legged, lean-hipped stride, that brick wall of a chest, and most of all at that wide, knowing smile that transformed his harsh features and made her feel like she was the most amazing woman who had ever set foot on planet earth.
He led her around the other side of the truck and opened the door for her, his eyes narrowing appreciatively on Kate’s legs as her borrowed skirt rode up her thighs as she climbed in.
As he pulled out of the parking lot, Kate didn’t even bother asking where they were going. As far as she was concerned, Tommy could take her anywhere.
Maura Walsh blew out a frustrated breath and shifted on her heels, trying to ease the pressure on the balls of her feet. Damn shoes had cost half a month’s salary, and while they did amazing things for her legs, if she tried to stand in them for more than ten minutes, she felt like spikes were being driven into the soles of her feet.
She’d been standing on the concrete steps for hours waiting for an update on Tricia Fuller, and now her feet hurt so much she was afraid she was going to end up with nerve damage.
The sheriff—whose rumpled clothes and disheveled hair didn’t detract a bit from his overall hotness—had given a brief statement eons ago, and no one else had come out to speak to the press since.
“Let’s take a break. I’m starving,” grumbled Marshall, her cameraman.
“Not like you couldn’t afford to miss a few meals,” she shot back with a glare, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the way the buttons of his plaid shirt strained to contain his belly. “I’m not leaving until we get something good.” Like maybe a sound bite from Tricia’s sister, Brooke. Or even better, some real evidence to prove her hunch that the relationship between Kate Beckett and Fuller’s friend Ibarra wasn’t just professional. The prospect made her toes curl in her too-tight shoes. After the fallout from Kate’s relationship with Graham Miller, the discovery that she was fooling around on yet another case would create the kind of frenzy that would kick Maura out of a backwater market like northern Idaho and straight into the big leagues.
“Hey, where are you going?” she said, snapping out of her reverie as Marshall set his camera down on the steps next to her.
“Gotta take a piss.”
Maura gave a shudder of revulsion as he tromped up the stairs. Maybe he was right. They should break. The rest of the press had left already. She’d sent in her reel to air on the six o’clock broadcast. The likelihood of getting something in for the eleven o’clock broadcast was nil.
She slipped out of her shoes and started to limp back to the van when her phone rang. She froze, anticipation swelling in her chest when she saw the caller ID with the hospital’s name. “Maura Walsh,” she answered.
“Hi, uh, Ms. Walsh? My name is Nancy, I work here at the hospital. I got your card?”
After Kate Beckett’s run-in with her intruder, Maura and Marshall had discreetly passed out her business card to several staff members, promising cash rewards for any information they could pass on. “Do you have something you want to share with me, Nancy?”
Nancy hesitated on the other end, and Maura fought back the urge to tell her to spit it out. “N-no one can find out I talked to you,” Nancy stammered. “I’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”
“I always keep my sources confidential,” Maura assured her. “Do you have information about Tricia Fuller?”
“Not exactly…”
“Can’t we stay a little longer?” Brooke asked, her fingers laced tightly with Tricia’s. Though Tricia’s fingers were limp, they were warm. Warm and alive. The words echoed like a mantra through her head. Tricia was warm and alive and with them.
And—by some miracle—whoever the sicko was who had taken her hadn’t raped her. Despite Brooke’s tortured imaginings, somehow her baby sister had been spared that. The knowledge took the edge off her guilt, though Brooke knew it would never go away. It didn’t matter what everyone said.
Even her father’s assurances and tight hug—the first he’d given her in days—couldn’t take the weight of the blame from her shoulders.
“She needs undisturbed rest,” the doctor said kindly but firmly. “You can come visit again in the morning.”
She bent and gave Tricia a kiss on the cheek, her throat tight as she got a close-up view of the mottled bruise on her sister’s cheekbone. “I love you, Tricia. I love you so much and I promise to take care of you from now on,” she said softly.
When she turned around, she saw her father’s eyes were suspiciously wet. “She’s going to be okay,” Jackson said, and pulled her into a hug. Brooke closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar, comfortable smell. She’d been so busy pushing him away, pretending she didn’t need anyone after Mom died, she’d forgotten how good it felt to have her dad hug her. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” she said for what felt like the dozenth time today.
“I told you, honey, I don’t blame you—”
“I’m not just talking about Tricia,” Brooke said, tilting her head back so she could meet her father’s gaze. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch lately, after Mom—”
“It’s okay. We’re both having a hard time, and when we get home we all need to work on pulling ourselves back together. We already lost Mom. We can�
��t lose each other.”
Brooke stayed close to his side, his arm around her shoulders as they walked out to the waiting room, where Ben was. He stood up eagerly when he saw her.
Her heart shuddered in her chest as she returned his smile. When she’d first met him, she figured they’d hook up a couple times and that would be that. She’d never imagined that he’d end up being someone who’d stick by her unconditionally during one of the most difficult periods in her life.
“I was hoping Ben could give you a ride home,” Jackson said, his mouth quirking wryly as Ben eagerly reached out for her hand.
“No problem.” Ben nodded enthusiastically.
“What about you?” Brooke turned to her father.
“I’m going to stay here with Tricia. I don’t want her to be alone.”
“I’ll stay too—” Jackson lifted up a hand to silence her.
“You go have fun, get some rest. Tracy will be over at nine to stay the night with you. I don’t want you staying alone.”
“Sir, I’m happy to stay with Brooke,” Ben broke in. “There’s no need to bother Tracy.”
“Ben, you’re a nice kid, and I like you, but no way in hell are you and Brooke staying unchaperoned under the same roof.”
Ben’s hand dropped from Brooke’s shoulder and he jumped away from her like she was on fire. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t—” Hot color flooded his cheeks and Brooke felt her own cheeks flame.
“And Tracy will be there later to make sure you don’t,” he said, leveling what Brooke liked to call his drill sergeant look at them.
“Jeez, Dad, don’t worry.” She rolled her eyes. She leaned up to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Promise you’ll call if she wakes up or anything?”
Her dad nodded and she and Ben started for the door. “Hold on, I want to say bye to Kate,” Brooke said, looking around the waiting room for the other woman.
“She took off with Tommy about ten minutes ago,” Ben said, stepping out of the way to let a dark-haired man in a flannel shirt pass them coming the other way.