Crushed

by Kate Watterson

  “Well, it has to be one or the other since you can’t be in two places at once.” She looked calm, but he knew that rose shook her too. He saw it in her eyes. “I am a police officer. I also have a gun. Please remember, you could be the target. Montoya knows his stuff.”

  “I don’t think that for a minute.”

  “No, you don’t want to think that for a minute. Different.”

  She loosened her jacket and took out her gun. “Can we go inside now? The nice night has gotten chilly. If it makes you feel more masculine, here’s my key. I’ve got your back. Feel free to go first.”

  All things considered, he wasn’t sure if he was more worried about the street or the house, but she was right. As Metzger had pointed out, she knew how to handle a tricky situation. Her condo proved to be empty and silent. Windows were closed, there was no visible entry, and he even looked under her bed and in the closets.

  “All clear. Any dust bunnies?”

  “Don’t try to tell me you’ve never looked under the bed, so don’t laugh at me. We all have at one time or another. It seems to me we have just cause to be cautious.” He got to his feet. Her bedroom was more feminine than he expected somehow. Not that she wasn’t feminine, but there was a collection of what looked like antique perfume bottles on the dresser, and a four-poster bed with a lacy bedspread, not to mention what appeared to be from the cover a romance novel sitting on her nightstand. “But all clear right now and I didn’t notice a dust bunny, but don’t look under my bed. Can I sleep with you tonight?”

  Ellie stared at him like he’d spoken Mandarin or something. “What?”

  He was not a great communicator; that had been made clear to him a long time ago. Kate had probably done a dissertation on it for her PhD. He tried again. “Okay, I’ll clarify. I’ll sleep on the floor with my gun right next to me but in your bedroom. I don’t like anything about this situation, and if he came in through a window I might be too far away on the couch. I’ll just sleep, but I’ll at least be with you. He’s killed three people and I think he’s obsessed with you.”

  “Or you.”

  “Then you can protect me. Aren’t we the perfect couple.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I’m serious.” He really was.

  “If this is a ploy for sex, you win an award for most imaginative effort ever, but really—”

  “I said floor. I’d love to get naked with you, but tonight I’d be wondering if he was looking in the window. That might set me off my A-game. Let’s just get some sleep. If you’re here and I’m here all in one space, I’d think he’d have a hard time sneaking up on us. Ellie, we both know he’s out there. He’s making a point of letting us know it.”

  She had that damned flower to prove it.

  “All right, but keep in mind my loaded Glock will be right next to me. Please at least wear boxers.”

  “When actively pursuing serial killers who know exactly where I am and have a doubtful interest in my well-being, I usually don’t sleep naked. You’re safe there. I can chase down a perp, but not with things I value hanging in the breeze.”

  “Did you really just say that? If Metzger ever hears of this—”

  “I’m not telling him, are you?”

  “No. Of course not.” Ellie’s cool look might have frozen the average person on the spot, but he was used to it.

  “So we’re all good?”

  “Santiago, I’m not positive we’ll ever be all good.”

  “Humor me for a minute. And I thought I was Jason.”

  She got up. “Fine. I’m going to go brush my teeth and change into pajamas.”

  “If you need any help with that pajama thing, let me know. Negligee by any chance?”

  “I think I can handle it, and no. Shorts and a camisole.”

  He gave a theatrical sigh. “I just can’t catch a break.”

  Chapter 12

  He was so furious he was shaking.

  That damned truck wasn’t going anywhere.

  Lights out except one low lamp in the living room, the kitchen dark and deserted, and her bedroom light was off.

  That bastard was spending the night.

  Calm down, calm down.

  It didn’t mean they were sleeping together, it just meant that after she found the rose and understood he’d been there, maybe she’d thought it over and decided it was best not to be alone.

  Wise girl.

  For the first time in his life—all because of her—he felt like a force to be reckoned with. If he didn’t really have fortune, he still had fame. It was interesting to watch the news and read the paper and know they were talking about him.

  He was more in love with her than ever.

  It was imperative he see her.

  * * *

  He was uncomfortable sleeping on the floor. Jason came to that conclusion fairly early on, but he’d slept in bunkers and on the hard seats of helicopters, on deserts in a less-than-happy atmosphere with people with guns running around, and it hadn’t been pleasant then either. Still, he’d been a bit younger then. He rolled over for the tenth time at least.

  “You’re keeping me awake. Look, just get into the bed.” Ellie said it with absolutely no equivocation in her voice. “Just stay on your side and go to sleep. It’s a matter of a few feet. I’m nervous already. You aren’t helping. Every time you move, and it’s about a two-second interval, I hear it.”

  In a different time in his life maybe he would have argued the floor was fine, but he really would prefer to sleep in a bed. He would argue the thirties were not the new twenties, but then again, he had some mileage on him the average person might not have experienced.

  Next to her wasn’t as good as with her, but it was better than the floor. The sheets smelled great and he was tempted to mention it, but he could swear from the cadence of her breathing she’d fallen asleep the minute he’d joined her, which was not exactly flattering.

  So he was in bed with Ellie MacIntosh, but … she’d instantly gone to sleep.

  If he ever told the story, he might skip that part.

  On the other hand, he was going to have one of those nights when his head was like Grand Central Station and his brain was just racing from thought to thought, like trains pulling in and trains pulling out. He hadn’t really talked about it with Lukens other than mentioning he had some problems with insomnia. She had said for ex-military that wasn’t uncommon, for police officers almost par for the course, and for a homicide detective probably to be expected, so she wasn’t at all surprised. She wasn’t licensed to prescribe medication, but she could refer him to someone who could. He declined because he shied away from drugs of any kind. He didn’t even take aspirin.

  So … live with the trains.

  It galled him that they had many clues and no real handle on the murderer. They actually knew quite a bit about him, but it was all quicksand. Nothing solid at all. They were up to their knees already and sinking fast.

  His first clue something was wrong was that he smelled smoke.

  Good thing he was still awake.

  “Ellie.” He touched her shoulder because it seemed the least invasive of her personal space. “Something is on fire.”

  She woke up amazingly fast and sat up, sweeping back her hair. “What is this, a plot to not let me get five minutes of sleep? Okay, I smell it too. Dammit. Everyone in the world is going to think I’m sleeping with you … jeans would be nice.”

  “You can deny it without lying. I never went to sleep.” He put his pants on and then grabbed his badge.

  There were already sirens when they hit the pavement outside.

  Condo next door had pluming smoke from the back. Luckily the young family was already out of the house standing in the driveway as Jason rushed up at full speed. “No one else inside? Full head count?”

  The father shook his head, holding a little girl in his arms. “We’re all here. I have no idea how it started. I never even saw it. I just woke up to the smoke alarm going off. I’m gl
ad I’m diligent about checking those batteries, but I have two important reasons to be.”

  A small boy clinging to his mother whimpered. “Blackie.”

  Well, shit. He didn’t say it out loud to his credit because he sure felt like saying it. “There’s a dog or cat still inside?”

  “Cat.” That was Ellie right behind him. “Just let me go. He comes for a visit every now and then to my front porch. He knows me.”

  The father, Mr. Nichols, in a robe—he’d never given her his first name—and obviously upset said, “I left the side door open so maybe he bolted. Cats don’t come when you call. I tried. He’s hiding in the laundry room behind the washer. I just wanted to get my family out as fast as possible.”

  He usually only heard about stuff like this on the news, but Jason was willing to at least give it a try. “I’m right behind you.”

  “Officer Santiago and I will try to look for him,” Ellie said to the little boy. “Just give us a minute.”

  The house was filled with smoke, but there didn’t seem to be actual flames inside. It was a mirror image of hers and she went right to the laundry room. A pair of green eyes stared back at them from behind the appliances. “He’s still here. You move the washer, and I will make sure he gets out. He won’t like having his cover compromised.”

  Jason wasn’t all that happy with the acrid smoke either. He coughed twice as he tugged the machine out, and the cat didn’t exactly run to Ellie, but at least darted out far enough that she could snare him.

  The animal was off like a shot once they got to the front door. “How badly do you think you’re bleeding?” Jason asked while wiping smoke-induced tears from his eyes, because no doubt about it, the unhappy cat had clawed her.

  She bared her arm, and sure enough there were deep scratches. “There will probably be scars,” she said with dry humor. “But that seems the least of my problems right now. He’s usually such a sweet kitten, but who can blame him? Here comes the cavalry.”

  The fire trucks screamed up. Jason said grimly, “Let’s grab whoever seems to be in charge and tell them to look for arson. Death by asphyxiation again. Dammit, there were kids in there. When we catch him, I might strangle him myself.”

  “I’ll help you dispose of the body,” Ellie responded in much the same tone, her face set.

  The firefighter shouting orders took a look at their badges, Santiago’s scars from being shot in the line of duty since he was still shirtless, and nodded, and then told them to get the hell out of the way. He said he’d circle back around once the fire was out.

  They did, standing back with the gathering of neighbors who had heard the sirens and commotion, and Jason knew Ellie was doing exactly what he was doing and observing every spectator. Arsonists tended to come watch their fires burn, but this particular individual, if he was responsible—houses did catch on fire sometimes—probably didn’t qualify as an arsonist, but just as a lunatic on a mission to send a message.

  “Maybe you need to talk to Montoya again.”

  The revolving lights reflected off her face. “Before tonight I wouldn’t dream of interrupting his vacation a second time, but this is moving fast.”

  “He’s gaining momentum, yes.” He had the same bad feeling standing there and watching the process of putting out the fire, the hoses and the trucks, the smoke drifting by.

  “He’s not here. I can’t believe he wouldn’t at least stroll by.”

  “I’m also not picking a tall man with brown hair out of the crowd,” he said.

  “I agree. He should be here somewhere, but I can’t spot him.”

  “Too smart.”

  She didn’t argue. “Clever I can deal with, but smart is a real problem. The clever ones use angles. The smart ones are methodical.”

  One of the firefighters checked her out as he walked by and there was no doubt about it, Jason was annoyed. “Let’s just go to my apartment. Obviously he knows where you live.”

  “He doesn’t know where you live?”

  “Maybe he does, but my place doesn’t smell like smoke. It isn’t on the ground floor either, so the only way in is through the front door unless he’s some kind of a circus acrobat.”

  Her nod acknowledged he had a point, even if it wasn’t a happy one. “Fine.”

  * * *

  “Smoke bomb.” Riley, the firefighter in charge, took them around the garage and showed them the contraption set under the back bedroom window. There was black soot all up the wall and across the window. “This one is homemade. Never seen one quite like it before. So not technically arson, but whoever put it there wanted to make it seem like the place was on fire. The good news is these folks won’t have water damage. They’ll just have to live with the smell for a while.” He was heavy shouldered and had a goatee speckled with gray. He shook his head. “Why inventive people don’t spend their energy in positive ways is beyond me. Anyway, we’re out of here. I don’t know if this qualifies as a crime scene to you, but I don’t need to call in the troops to analyze how it happened. Maybe it’s just a prank.”

  “I wish.” Ellie did qualify it as a crime in that it was meant to intimidate, but at least no one had been hurt. “The owner is a science teacher at a high school. I suppose that’s possible.”

  “It was a decently sophisticated device, but there have been teen geniuses before.”

  She and Santiago walked back to her condo in contemplative silence. Both were too aware of every possible threat, because that could easily have been just to get them out of the building. Luckily, all was silent.

  “Not a prank. It’s just my opinion.”

  She agreed.

  “Apparently we’re roommates,” she said acerbically, even though none of it was his fault. “Thanks to Montoya and Lukens I’m now worried about you, so we are living in the same world.”

  “I always wanted you to care. That’s so encouraging.” He was as flippant as ever.

  “Yeah, right. I just don’t want to adjust to a new partner.”

  “Hey, I meant that. Let me go put on my shirt.”

  She liked the view without the shirt, even though she was resistant to that realization. It was not a good idea to get involved on a serious basis with her partner. Bad for her career was the number-one point.

  Though she had become involved with Bryce when he was still a suspect in a murder case, so she wasn’t pure as white snow in that judgment category. Still, Jason had been pretty honest, so she at least owed him that too. “Can we just get through this case please? I always need to evaluate whether or not you’re serious. Let’s watch and see if a car follows us.”

  “Why don’t you let me start your car? I have a painful prior experience that proved car bombs do exist. My truck is fine, but I still miss that sweet ride. If he can rig a smoke bomb, he probably can plant an explosive device.”

  “That’s cheerful. I don’t see why you should risk your life more than I should.”

  This time he was serious. “Because I would really miss you. Give me the keys. My personal belief is that smoke bomb was showing us what he could do if he wanted to, but if it was just to deflect us so he could do something else, let’s not assume anything.”

  He had a point. She went and checked. “The garage door is still locked, dead bolt and all. We were right next door. I think we’d have seen someone walk up.”

  “So it should be fine.” He held out his hand. “Keys?”

  She handed them over. “Fine, just because I need to grab clothes for tomorrow and at least a toothbrush and my phone and laptop.”

  “Wash off those scratches. I don’t want to catch this psycho and then have you die of cat scratch fever, whatever that is. I used to listen to a lot of Ted Nugent back in the day.”

  That didn’t surprise her at all. It also wasn’t bad advice. She sincerely hoped Blackie would come back home when all the commotion faded away. Her next door neighbors were nice polite people and she guessed had just suffered because of her. Why it should make her feel a t
winge of guilt she wasn’t sure as she examined her arm and the collateral damage of three bleeding spots, but maybe if they’d lived next to a minister or an insurance agent, it never would have happened.

  There was no explosion, but when she walked out to get into the car, she made a point of bringing the remote for her security system. She told Santiago, “I’m still wearing pajamas in the faint hope of getting some sleep tonight, so drive safely please. Enough people have already seen me in my sleep attire that I’m starting not to care, but let’s keep it to a minimum. I don’t want to stand in a street talking to a patrol officer wearing this.”

  “I always drive carefully.”

  He was a cowboy behind the wheel; she’d experienced it firsthand. Not too flashy, but if he needed to do so, he could go over the top. They’d done one pursuit where she was fairly sure her life was about to end in a headline on the news, but he had pulled it off safely at the last minute. “No comment.”

  “You don’t trust me?” He did back out carefully and she hit the garage door closer.

  “In some ways yes and in some ways I know you are a risk taker, so no.”

  “Calculated risks are different.”

  “I’ll grant you that, but I want to get some sleep. It’s hard to sell yourself as a detective wearing cotton shorts with little hearts all over them.”

  “I think they’re cute.”

  She let it pass, brooding at the lights glinting past. She had no illusions he wasn’t just as concerned. “So tonight proves it is about how he’s in control. How do we get it back? For all we know he’s in my condo right now, lighting it on fire.”

  Santiago took a left and shook his head. “No, he’s going to prolong this as long as possible. Historically a lot of serial killers have taken on the police, and some have gotten away with it, like Jack the Ripper.” He braked for a light and looked over at her. “Oh shit, didn’t think of that. Jack? Didn’t he send notes to the police?”

  It hadn’t occurred to her either. “He did. Not at all the same method of death, though. The Ripper used a knife, and though this conversation is likely to give me nightmares, he disemboweled his victims.”