Nothing Sacred (FBI Agent Dan Hammer Series Book 1)

by Douglas Wickard

  “And?”

  “After an excruciatingly long wait, they finally did accept me, but I preferred to stay on the East Coast. Charleston seemed like a good fit, the perfect alternative.” Sydia stood up. “May I use your restroom?”

  “Sure.” Dan gestured down the hallway, kicking himself for not cleaning the bathtub better or scouring the sink more efficiently. Did he flush the toilet?

  Jesus!

  Too late now. He settled back into the soft cushions of the sofa and waited. The moments seemed intolerable. The running of water, the toilet flushing, the bathroom light turned out before the door creaked open and Sydia appeared again before him. “What made you come here tonight?” She picked up her glass and took another sip of wine. Did he have another bottle stashed away somewhere in the kitchen?

  “Are you conducting another investigation, Detective?” Sydia resumed her position. She kicked off her shoes and curled up comfortably across from him. A feline presence of grace and curves and sexual dexterity.

  “Possibly.”

  “To see you. Why else?”

  Flattered, Dan leaned over and kissed her. His reflexes were working more effectively than his intentions. Surprisingly, she reciprocated. She moved her hands around his neck and pulled him toward her. Dan took notice of his accelerated breathing. His heart racing…

  Green light…

  He could taste the residual flavor of wine on her breath. She rolled her tongue across his lips. Tenderly. He felt dizzy and stupid and uncharacteristically vulnerable as he opened his mouth to receive her.

  He flashbacked to a crazy situation with a girl in Junior High School, Susan Valenti. She was in the class ahead of him and very popular with the boys for her after school education sessions. After seventh period one day, they strolled over to the baseball diamond and behind the wooden bleachers she kissed him. His first kiss. For him, that brief heavenly second held every answer to life, hope and expectancy. It allowed a tiny preview, Dan thought, of all the amazing things to come. When love and sex defined him, who he was and what he anticipated he would ultimately become. That experience was long before Gina. Long before heartbreak entered into the picture. Now, sharing this tender moment with Sydia, Dan was transported, once again, to that special place. For the time being, Sydia allowed him to forget. Life might not always turn out the way he’d intended it to, but if he were lucky, or patient, it might allow him the opportunity to rekindle a lost forgotten flame.

  His hand reached for her blouse. He began unbuttoning, guiding tiny disks through tinier loops, exposing her chest. Sydia stretched out, lengthening her slender legs down the extent of the sofa. She massaged Dan’s calf muscles through the coarse fabric of his jeans. Again, she met him halfway, raising her chest to welcome him. The candlelight cast shadows on the walls around them as they acrobatically adjusted themselves. The boundaries Dan guarded so heavily began merging. He discovered the softness of her skin, the crest of her cleavage forming at the top of her bra, the attachment hooked in front. Sensing his need, Sydia reached up and unfastened it, exposing her breasts. He cupped her swell and lowered his mouth, gently hovering over her protruding dark nipples. They stood erect with expectant interest, as he tasted them. He teased her by blowing air around them. A slight purr, a moan, and then she sweetly cooed, “Yes, Dan, yes.”

  Gone were the fantasies of submission. His dreamlike fantasy appointment with Sydia cloaked in hospital scrubs, barking commands to perform erotic tasks, spanking his raw ass while the hectic world of medicine swirled around them. Now, a different sort of sharing was taking place, an offering of mutual respected granted. Both were aware of the chemistry they were creating. Contributing. His masculine side was no longer in need of defending, expressing himself only in work or his gruff and often unapproachable behavior. Now, he seemed to take on a much-needed softness as he swerved to meet Sydia’s turns, her feminine curves. He sensed the boy again. The protective walls erected around him from all that hurt and loneliness began to thaw, crumble away and fall. Sydia lowered her hand to his waist. She unbuckled his belt buckle, awkward and big and old.

  “Help me, Dan.”

  He realized how long it had been since he’d been here, in this place, experiencing this kind of a sensual moment. His last attempt at sex with Marjorie was more like occupying spaces. Both of them performing a necessary function. A physical release for consenting adults to remind themselves that they were still breathing. Still alive. Still vital. But just barely. That static space between physical pleasure and emotional pain, and the afterward acknowledgment of all that is missing in between.

  Dan adjusted his weight. He balanced himself on one leg as he removed his pants, his underwear and socks. Her eyes watched on as his body became exposed, vulnerable and half-naked. He sensed the quiet in the house. He strained to hear a stir, a cough, a random noise from Alexandra in the next room signaling his attention. Nothing. He prayed this moment would be uninterrupted. Even the street noise seemed muffled as he lay back down upon Sydia and once again kissed her.

  Her hands moved with precision to Dan’s cock. She took him, felt him, and, in his mind, sized him up. Every possible liability he owned was instantaneously known and evaluated. His insecurities seemed to be present, always on guard, waiting in the boxing ring of his mind to beat himself up. At any occasion.

  He waited for validation. A response from Sydia to continue, wondering why he needed her approval in the first place. Understanding immediately why his relationship with Gina was so dysfunctional. Why her confirmation of him was so important and yet, the one thing he reacted so strongly against. His work was not the only thing that kept him away from home. Dan would remain an island. At all costs. He would battle the forces of intimacy in the presence of hurricanes, knowing that drowning was inevitable. Security equaled trust and trust was one emotion he’d been deprived of. That and safety.

  Sydia responded lovingly. She pulled Dan up and steered his cock into her mouth. He couldn’t help but think about his day, his tiredness, his absolute need for a shower. Embarrassed by his probable lack of hygiene. Not noticing, or seeming not to care, Sydia took him, stroking and tugging.

  Detaching, Dan lowered himself to straddle her thighs. He began unfastening her slacks. Sydia raised her arms above the sofa and held on. He guided her zipper down exposing slight panties and shimmied off her slacks. They fell to the floor next to his. He licked her belly button and headed south before she stopped him…

  “What?”

  Sydia shook her head. “I can’t. Not tonight.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Not now…”

  Dan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He had just engaged on an emotional obstacle course to cross the finish line to this. “What?”

  “I’m sorry, Dan. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Try me!” What the hell was going on? Once again, his insecurities started fucking around with him, raising their ugly heads and waging war against him. Dan sat up. He lost his erection. She stayed the same. Her hands were above her, still, stretched out and holding on to the sofa as if tied down.

  “I can’t explain it. But…”

  His cell phone went off, blasting the silence. It reverberated against the hollow walls of the apartment, doing a dance on the coffee table.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?”

  Dan reached for the phone. “Yes?”

  Evans was on the other end. Of course. Who else but Evans would interrupt Dan at the most inconvenient time? “What?”

  Evans voice was tense and flustered. “Dan, you have to get out to Folly Beach. I just got off the phone with that FBI dude. I’ll pick him up at his hotel and we’ll meet you there.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Don’t want to say anything over the line, but you better leave now.”

  “I can’t leave now. I have Alexandra. I’m babysitting.” Dan looked over at Sydia. She was sitting up looking at him, a vacant stare on her face. T
he candle had burned out. The room seemed dark and ominous. His first response was to check on Alexandra.

  “Get a fucking babysitter, Dan. And make it snappy. This is fucking awful.”

  “Where?”

  “The Water’s Edge apartment complex. Corner of East Actic and 3rd. You won’t be able to miss it. The entire police force is out there.”

  Dan was writing down the address on a piece of paper. “I’m on my way.” He dropped the cell phone on the table and took a moment to compose himself. Back to Detective mode. Not some hypersensitive boy being dismissed.

  “Dan, what’s going on?” Sydia reached for her slacks and began pulling them on. “Do you need me to leave?”

  “No, I need you to stay. There’s an emergency in Folly Beach. I have to get out there…”

  “What is it?”

  “Didn’t say. Would you mind staying with Alexandra till I get back?” Dan was aware that he was standing buck naked in front of Sydia, his dick hanging down unobstructed from view. “Jesus!” He took his underwear and pants from the pile of clothes on the floor and began stuffing his legs through. Sitting back down on the sofa, he pulled on his socks and put his shoes on.

  Sydia stood up and moved to the window. She crossed her arms. “Of course, Dan. Whatever I can do.” She turned toward him and smiled. The yellow light from the street lamp changed to red. It cast a weird glow on her and the living room as he lifted his holster from the kitchen table and exited the apartment.

  9:32 PM

  53

  No mistakes this time, Sydia. No mistakes…

  I stand in the still of Dan’s apartment. The shrill sound of a siren wails and dies in the distance. I look at the mess, the stench of masculine living. The habitat of a solitude being, surviving life without company, care, or even comfort. The majority of his time spent away… on a mission. Crusading the ongoing battle against good and evil. Like now.

  And me, left behind, as guardian to his baby. The good Doctor.

  Stupid, stupid, Dan.

  So unconscious, and so unaware that Alexandra waits for me in the bedroom.

  She sleeps now, snuggled in the illusion of her Father’s protection. An angel about to be saved.

  My small sacrifice.

  I wrote the letter earlier. I left it on the coffee table by the empty wine glass. Somewhere obvious. Someplace easy for Dan to find.

  It will be important for him to discover the note quickly in order to bring this plan to its ultimate conclusion. So far, Dan has played along perfectly, unaware of his or his daughter’s participation. His collaboration so innocently unnoticed, masked only by his intense need for feminine attention and approval. Everything falling into place so perfectly. So utterly synchronistic. The heavens are in total agreement with my choice.

  No mistakes…

  I slip my tennis shoes on and tip toe into the bedroom. The door creaks as I open it. Inside, the slight purr of Alexandra’s breathing.

  I catch myself staring, frozen in time, transported to a place far away. Past the bed, past the dilapidated venetian blinds, out the dirty, cracked window and into the night sky. A red neon light cast scarlet tones to the room.

  A horizon soaked with blood…

  By now, they’ve found the body of the reporter. They’ve probably obtained a search warrant and discovered the blood bath right inside the doorway. I’m sure the area is heavily secured as a crime scene. And Dan, realizing his mistake, his horror, too late.

  Poor, poor, Dan.

  How could Dan have known he would play such an important role in my absolution? Finally freeing me from this hell, all the years of guilt and shame and humiliation. How could he possibly know? Sitting at 82 Queen, sharing wine and family photos. Such a willing participant. So wrapped up in himself and his quest to pursue and conquer me… completely unsuspecting that I had already… chosen him…

  9:42 PM

  54

  Driving to Folly Beach was effortless at this time of night, the I-26 was barren. Only a few cars peppered the highway as Dan made the necessary turn-offs. His approximate arrival time… fifteen minutes. The scanner was uncharacteristically quiet. Unusually calm.

  His attention was scattered, intrigued by his brief encounter with Sydia. Her unannounced appearance. Her obvious attraction to him. It made him smile, blush. In the privacy of his own car, he flattered himself. He checked his image in the rearview mirror. He stole a glance, positioning himself to take in his entire face. Not bad. Sometimes, he understood why women found him so attractive.

  Not at all the sort of thing he should be thinking about on the way to a crime scene.

  WTF?

  Low-hanging fog rolled like tendril fingers across the Folly River Bridge. At the traffic light, Dan made a left-hand turn onto East Atic Avenue. It wasn’t difficult locating his destination; blue, red and white flashing lights danced in the distance. Pedestrians were already gathering on the sidewalks. People loved drama. Wooden police barriers held nosy neighbors back. Dan accelerated, concentrating on what could possibly lie ahead. Sydia and Dan’s attempted act of lovemaking and his wily, wicked thoughts would have to wait for the time being.

  Dan parked by the long stretch of boardwalk running alongside the ocean. The night sky was hazy gray melting into the Atlantic. No stars, only the faint outline of a white moon hidden somewhere behind moody clouds.

  Across the street, Wright and Evans spotted his car. He pulled the collar tight around his neck and crossed the street to meet them. The air was uncommonly cold. And wet. You couldn’t pay Dan to live out here!

  “I got here as quickly as I could.” Dan kept stride with Wright. Evans tagged along close behind. They waded past people, places, objects and yellow crime scene tape flapping unnervingly against strong gusts of wind. Evans appeared pale, as if he’d seen a ghost, or something far worse. He wasn’t his chatty, annoying, always talking about nothing-self.

  “Who’s watching your daughter?”

  “Surprise visitor. The good Doctor stopped over.”

  “Garrison?” Wright raised his eyebrows.

  “Yep. Go figure. Good old Evans, always interrupting…” Dan looked around. Evans was eavesdropping in on the conversation. “Right, Evans?”

  Evans shrugged.

  “Evans picked me up at the hotel. He called from the Precinct and brought me here.”

  “What’ve we got? Nothing came over the scanner.” Dan walked with Wright past manicured grass, trimmed hedges, and perfectly potted and arranged flowers.

  “Residents from the apartment complex called in a complaint about a dog being locked up in a car in one of the parking lots. The first Officer to arrive let the dog out and the animal went berserk.”

  “Is he still here?”

  “I’ve already chatted with him. The strangest thing… the dog led the Officer to a patch of trees on the outskirts of the property. Once there, the dog began pulling at something.”

  “Yeah, don’t keep me in suspense.” Dan pulled out his yellow pad and began taking notes, still trying to prove his worth. They continued up the stairs, along a cement corridor lined with matching apartment doors and back down another stairwell. A swimming pool glistened in the distance. Several patio tables surrounded it. Colorful umbrellas shot up from the middle of the tables like bamboo reeds, now closed and dormant. Steam rose from an oval-shaped Jacuzzi as they walked faster over more grass and shrubbery. Dan’s socks were already damp. Yellow and black crime scene tape shimmered in the distance. It summoned their expected arrival. Flashlight streams moved in the dark, a crossfire of dancing beams. Flashbulbs popped as a forensic photographer took photos of the area.

  Wright handed Dan gloves as they crossed over the line. Evans stayed behind. “What is it?”

  “Gruesome. Female. Cut up and dumped here.”

  “We have identification?” Dan lifted the blanket covering the body. His eyes were not prepared for the sight. Underneath laid the disjointed remains of Janice Porter, the annoying
reporter who broke the case. Dan closed his eyes. He returned the blanket, showing what respect he could.

  “Janice Porter.”

  Wright nodded.

  A cry came from out of nowhere. It pierced the already-tense mood. They looked over to see Evans on the ground, bawling like a baby, hitting the ground with his fists. “Jesus,” Dan said, “get him out of here.” Cops picked up Evans and escorted him back toward the main property.

  “We’ve started canvassing the area, asking questions. There was one resident, a female, mentioned she saw Ms. Porter arrive in the afternoon. She remembered her vividly. Her daughter was playing in the driveway with a new bicycle and she’d come outside to escort her back in.”

  News traveled fast in small, rural areas.