At that thought, she slammed on the brakes, her mind suddenly thinking of a real future with Brogan. A home with him. Children with him. A future with him.
Seeing no one on the road, she parked next to the curb and pulled out her phone. Dialing him, she closed her eyes in pleasure as she heard his warm voice answer.
“Babe?”
“Hey, honey” she said, not having any other words to say.
“You okay?”
“Yeah. I just…uh…I…”
Chuckling, Brogan said, “You want to spit it out or did you just call for no reason?”
“Actually, I just called for no reason,” she admitted. “Other than I wanted to hear your voice.”
“Seriously?” his deep voice rumbled straight into her.
“Yeah. I’m on patrol and had you on my mind. Then I just wanted to tell you that.” There was a hesitation on the other end and, for a second, she wondered if he was still on the line.
Then, he spoke and his words curled around her heart. “Babe, I love you. I want you here and not on the other end of this phone, so you’d be in my arms as I tell you that.”
Sitting alone in the dark, on the side of the road, she smiled. “Love you too, Brogan.”
“As soon as you get off, I want you here, but drive safe and let me know you’re on your way,” he ordered gently.
“Okay.”
“I’ve got something I want to talk to you about,” he continued.
Interest piqued, she asked, “What is it?”
“Tell you when you get here.”
“Okay,” she readily agreed again. “I gotta finish patrol, but I’ll call as I’m heading your way.” She almost said goodbye, but hurriedly said, “Brogan?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks…for…well, just thanks for loving me.”
Once more there was a pause before he growled, “Ginny, you’ve got no reason to thank me. Loving you is easy.” Then he chuckled as he added, “But, I’ve got no objection to you showing your gratitude once we’re in bed together tonight.”
“That I can easily do,” she laughed in agreement.
Disconnecting, she laid her head back against the headrest for a moment, the knowledge that at the end of her shift she did not have to go home alone but had a good man—a man she loved—waiting for her, made the night easier. Starting the SUV once more, she glanced at the house nearby, the family gathered in the living room together and, instead of envy, she felt peace.
30
Shift almost over, Ginny took one last pass by the gazebo side of the park, her headlights joining the park’s illumination in cutting through the darkness. No movements caught her eye and, as she rounded the last corner, she looked at her clock. Shift over. Grinning, she headed back to the station. Parking the SUV, she jumped in her car and backed out of the lot.
She knew Brogan had wanted to go running on the beach the next morning and she had planned on joining him, but her running shoes were at her house. Knowing it would only take five minutes, she decided to make the detour to pick them up.
Parking on the street in front of her house, she hurried up the walk to her front door, thinking maybe Brogan would not mind if she started keeping a few things at his place…and he can keep some of his things here.
Brogan leaned deep into his sofa, the game just going off. Thinking of Ginny coming over soon, nerves hit his gut. Tonight, he would ask about her moving in…or at least agreeing to share houses until they could figure something out. All he knew was, he wanted to fall asleep with her by his side every night, regardless which bed it was in.
Suddenly looking around at how dark it was, he realized the game had gone longer than intended and she would be there soon. His dinner dishes were washed, but still in the sink. His beer bottle sat on the coffee table, a condensation ring at its base. Snagging the bottle, he stalked into the kitchen, tossing it into the recycle bin before placing the dishes back into the cupboard. Grabbing a paper towel, he wiped the counter and then the coffee table. Walking into the bathroom, he pulled clean towels from the small closet in the corner and hung them on the towel bar. Moving to his bedroom, he checked to make sure his work clothes had been tossed into the hamper.
Nodding, he was satisfied it was as good as it would get, but kicked himself that he had not thought to buy flowers. Rubbing his hand over his face, he walked back into the living room, his nerves still working their way through his stomach. Glancing at the clock once more, he knew she would walk through the door any moment. Please let her say yes.
Smiling at the thought of seeing Brogan soon, Ginny entered the living room, flipping on the light switch, surprised she had not left it on when she went to work. Hurrying to the bathroom, she quickly used the facilities and decided, since she was home, she might as well change out of her police uniform and into something more comfortable.
Standing at the bathroom vanity, she pulled out her phone. Hearing Brogan’s deep voice again, she smiled. “Hey, honey. Sorry I’m late, but I’m at my house to grab some things. I wanted my running shoes for tomorrow and, since I’m here, I’m going to get out of my uniform and put on something comfortable.”
“I’m sitting on the porch waiting to see your headlights, babe. Make it soon,” Brogan said. “We’ve both got tomorrow off and I’m itching to get our time together started.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” she said, moving into her bedroom, her hands at her belt buckle as she held the phone between her ear and shoulder. Flipping on the light, she jerked as she saw her bed linens mussed just before seeing someone crawling out her open window.
Screaming into the phone, “Intruder! I’ve got an intruder!” she disconnected with Brogan, immediately drawing her weapon and pressing the radio at her shoulder, calling it in to the emergency dispatch.
“Officer Spencer reporting an intruder in her home. Just left premises. In pursuit.”
Running to her window, she looked out, seeing the fleeing subject, and crawled out the same window, dropping lightly to the ground. Shouting, “Halt. Police!” had no effect, so she began running after the intruder, continuing to shout her progress into her radio.
Brogan’s heart stopped at her words, his feet rooted to the wooden porch. Intruder? At her house? Two seconds later it hit him and he bolted back inside, grabbing his keys from the counter before racing toward his truck. Hitting redial, her phone went to voice message.
“Fuck!” he yelled, climbing inside his cab and starting the engine. Gunning out of his sandy drive, the back fishtailed as he dialed Mitch.
Mitch answered with, “I know. I got the call. I’m on my way.”
“I’m heading there too.”
“Bro, don’t get in the way of police business.”
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” he growled. “I’ll be there.” Disconnecting, he called Aiden, not giving his brother a chance to speak before yelling, “Get to Ginny’s house. She had an intruder.” Disconnecting again, his heart pounded as he stomped on the accelerator, churning up the road to town. Only a ten-minute drive, he nonetheless hated every second while shaving the time in half, wondering what he would find when he got there. Please, God, let her be all right.
Pulling up in front of her house, he saw Sam, wearing jeans with a BPD t-shirt, talking to Aiden. Knowing Sam and his wife lived down the street from Ginny, he was not surprised to see him there. Jumping out of the truck, he ran to them. “Where is she?”
Sam looked at him, listening to his radio, then said, “Mitch is in pursuit. Grant and Burt are on their way. I’m here at her house to keep anyone from entering if we need to collect evidence.”
“Bro,” Aiden said, his hands up toward his brother, but got no further.
“Where is she?” Brogan roared.
Just then, the trio heard Sam’s radio squawk Ginny’s voice. “Mitch, I’ve pursued the suspect to the corner of Fig and Washington. Request backup immediately.”
Mitch was heard responding, “On my way.�
� He also radioed Grant and Burt, both responding they were heading in that direction.
Without a word, Brogan took off running, recognizing the address as only being two blocks away. He knew these streets and every piece of property, even in the dark night, having run them with the other Baytown Boys as a child. Hearing footsteps running behind him, he did not have to turn to know Aiden was right with him.
Ginny pinned her eyes on the figure she was chasing. Male. Good runner. Dark clothing with a dark hat. Calling these descriptors in as she ran, she hoped the North Hampton County dispatcher was able to understand her.
Her intruder led her on a chase through several streets, weaving in and out of yards and alleys. She pressed on, determined not to lose him. Where are the others? Just as she was wondering if she were all alone, she heard Mitch’s voice come over her radio, announcing his location. Radioing her location back, she calculated he was close by.
Just then, she rounded the corner of a house still in close pursuit of the intruder, only to see him easily scale a wooden, privacy fence. Smiling, she knew she could do the same after years of military training. She ran full force, giving a hop at the bottom to gain height, then grabbed the top with her hands as one foot hit the fence to propel herself upward. Swinging her leg over, she pulled her body over the top and landed softly on both feet on the other side.
She stilled momentarily, listening, not hearing footsteps. Slowing her breathing, she walked slowly forward, her eyes discerning shapes in the backyard of the residence, the dim porch light offering little illumination.
With a quick glance toward the house, she noted all the lights were out, but did not know if the owners were home sleeping, or gone. A creak from squeaky hinges sounded out and she slipped around the back corner, giving her eyes a chance to adjust to the space. The yard was not large, but held a shed in the back corner, the type usually for holding tools and, perhaps, a lawn mower.
Calling out, “Baytown Police. Come out with your hands where I can see them,” she waited. “Backup is on its way. Come out with your hands in the air.”
The door to the shed slowly opened outward, the inside dark, shielding whoever was inside. Hearing Mitch on the other side of the fence, Ginny was about to call out again, when the lights to the house came on, temporarily blinding her.
“What’s going on?” a male voice boomed out as a man threw open his back door, stepping out onto his porch, tying his robe around his waist. “Who’s out here?”
“Sir, Baytown Police. Get back inside!” she shouted, just as she saw the dark figure dart out of the shed and around to the back corner of the yard.
“What the hell? I’m calling the police!” the homeowner continued to yell.
“Sir, I am the police. Get back inside!” she screamed again, racing through the backyard toward the corner, seeing the intruder jumping to scale the fence.
Mitch jumped the fence and rounded the back in time to see the homeowner pull out a shotgun as he continued to yell for the police. Rushing to the porch, he subdued the elderly man, pushing him back inside with orders to stay.
Brogan, right on Mitch’s heels, jumped the fence as well, taking a few steps before hearing Aiden land heavily behind him.
Grant and Burt rounded the alley that ran behind the yard, pushing trash cans out of the way as they neared the property, calling out their location as well.
Ginny made it to the man, his feet scrambling for purchase as his hands pulled from the top of the fence, in an effort to make his way over. She tugged on his ankle and, as his body came down, he managed to backhand her, causing her grip to slip and she stumbled backward.
“You can’t get away!” she shouted, righting her body before rigidly locking as she saw a gun in his hand.
“Keep ‘em back,” he ordered.
She was unable to see his face in the dark, with both of them behind the shed where no illumination pierced his features other than the slight glistening on the barrel of the weapon in his hand.
“He’s armed,” Ginny announced loudly, hearing the footsteps around her come to a halt.
Mitch cursed softly, turning back to warn the homeowner to move deep inside his house, thankful when the older man followed his instructions. Weapon drawn, Mitch stealthily walked down the deck stairs to the back yard, joined by Brogan and Aiden. He stared at them for a moment, his gaze hard, but knew they would not be persuaded to leave. His eyes dropped to the Brogan’s hands clinched into fists.
Brogan looked at his friend, not caring that he was now the Police Chief, seeing him ready to take out Ginny’s threat.
“Ginny,” Mitch called out.
Ginny looked into the darkness, ready to speak into her radio, when the gun came slightly closer to her, and this was because the intruder stepped forward just enough for her to see his face.
Ben. Ben? Oh, my God, Ben Hudgins. Saul’s grandson.
31
Ben’s face twisted, as though tortured, his mouth turning down. His heavy breathing filled the void of sound, as his hand shook holding the gun.
“Ben,” she said gently, her eyes staying on his as she forced herself to not look down at the weapon.
“I…I…” he haltingly spoke, his words as shaky as his hand.
“Ben, give me the gun and we’ll talk.”
Mitch came into sight, his weapon raised, sliding his eyes to the side as Brogan came into view as well.
Ben’s gaze jumped to the added people, his hand shaking more, before settling on Brogan’s furious expression. Swallowing deeply, he said, “Get back. You gotta get back.”
Mitch calmly said, “Not going to do that, Ben. We’re not going to leave you here with Officer Spencer. You need to lower your weapon and come with us.”
“No!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with emotion as he cut his eyes back to Ginny. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just like to look, that’s all. Just look.”
“But Ben, looking isn’t all you’ve been doing,” Ginny said gently, her hands clearly in sight, not wanting to startle him. “You went beyond looking.”
His face contorted as he bit out, “Not if they’re good. But that woman in the park…I’d watched her before. But then she was with a man…and drinking. I wanted her but she was with someone else. And then that bitch at the bar. She flirted with me to keep me buying drinks but then acted like I was nobody when some other guys came into the bar.”
Brogan growled low in his chest at the thought that Ben had been in Ginny’s house. She was so close to being violated like the others. He slipped backward, into the shadows, and moved stealthily to the left, glad the dim light from the back porch shone onto the path around the shed.
Grant and Burt were on the other side of the fence corner listening, unable to see what was happening. Grant looked at a tree nearby and, with a nod toward Burt, he jogged over, holstering his gun so that he could climb onto a lower limb for a better vantage point.
“What about your grandfather?” Ginny asked, her voice still soft as she kept an eye on the weapon pointed at her.
Snorting, Ben said, “Granddad? I was eleven years old when I first worked summers for him. He told me to keep a close eye on what was going on inside the houses in case I needed to back away. Hell, the first time I saw a woman taking off her bathing suit in her bedroom and she never noticed me standing on the ground peering in. All I knew, was that I couldn’t back away.” He looked at Ginny, his eyes pleading for understanding, “It was like a drug. I had to have more.”
She quickly calculated and realized he had been peering inside windows for over fifteen years and no one knew. “Ben, I want to get some help for you. You need to be able to—”
“You think I don’t know that?” he yelled. “I tried…I tried to fight it. Granddad wanted me to join the business, but I knew if I did, I’d never be able to stop.” His face fell as his eyes pleaded for understanding. “I went away. Went to college, came back to teach, thinking it would all stop. But the urges were still there. They we
re still there.”
“Ben, without counseling, it’s too hard to stop. I can get help for you—”
“You? Oh, that’s rich. You, who fucks your boyfriend with the windows open. I had a straight view right over the dunes, into the bedroom, and you never realized. How the hell can you help me?”
Ginny heard a growl before realizing it was from her, but forced her fury down. “You need to put the gun down, Ben. You need help and you don’t need to make it worse.”
“I need you, ‘cause you’re gonna get me out of here,” Ben said, stepping closer, the barrel of the gun now only a few feet from her.
Brogan moved noiselessly around the shed, his eyes landing on the back of the man holding a gun to his Ginny. First fear, and then anger, coursed through his blood. Ben. Who the hell would have thought it was Ben? Thinking of the times he had served him in his bar as he probably scoped out women, including Ginny, brought his rage boiling. And now he has a fucking gun on her and I’m powerless.
His vision narrowed, darkness filling in around the edges as he was taken to a different place…a different time. The Afghan husband dragging his wife into the street, tossing her down into the dirt before using his foot to keep her down as he took a stone and threw it.
In years to come, Ginny would remember what happened next, but at the time, her mind was only filled with Brogan’s anguished face as he moved toward Ben, his hands raised in an attempt to hit his gun hand. Several shots were fired, but her mind would only remember them as one loud noise reverberating throughout the space. There was the firing of a weapon from behind Ben, coming from somewhere over the fence, causing his right leg to buckle underneath him. Then his scream piercing the night as another shot was fired, this time aimed at her, while another shot caught him in the arm.
Finding Peace: Baytown Boys Page 25