by Freya Barker
Lipczyk’s car would be pretty hard to miss; he drives a navy 2017 Jaguar XJ.
I don’t like this. The guy can’t just walk out of the hospital, get into his fancy car, and disappear into thin air in a few minutes.
“Anyone keep an eye on McMahan?” I ask Damian.
“According to Keith, he’s still in the office. Never left. Luna was gonna swing by his house to see if maybe Lipczyk showed up there, but since she hasn’t called in, I’m assuming that’s a no.”
“What about his cell?” Dylan asks. “Any chance we can trace its location?”
“I’m on the line with Verizon.” Damian says. “They’re working on it.”
I’m already pulling up a map of cell phone towers in the area on my computer, when Damian tosses his phone on the desk.
“Fuck! Son of a bitch. Last ping they got off his phone was hours ago. He must’ve disabled it.”
“Let me take a wild guess, you don’t have good news either,” Luna comments as she walks in the door and drops down in the nearest chair. “I’ve got bupkus. Nada.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” I voice my thoughts. “The guy may be a doctor, but he is cocky and arrogant to the point of stupid. All he knows is who to call when he fucks up. He’s done it his whole damn life. There’s no way all of a sudden he’s savvy enough to disappear. No way in hell.”
“True,” Luna agrees. “He has no finesse. He’s a bully who thrives on intimidation.”
Suddenly the hair on my neck stands on end as her words hit home.
“Anyone check the Shredder place?” I throw out there, getting out of my chair and tucking my phone in my pocket. “You might want to. Luna makes a good point; intimidation is what he’s good at.”
“I’ll go,” Dylan says.
“Where are you off to?”
The moment I meet Damian’s eyes, I see realization dawn on his face.
“Checking on Bella.”
I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear the heavy fall of his footsteps behind me.
“Try her cell,” I suggest when Damian climbs in the passenger side of my truck.
“No answer.”
“Keep fucking trying.”
Bella
I’m jerked into action when I faintly hear the familiar ring of my phone.
Scrambling to my feet, I turn away from the window to look for it. Last place I recall having it was right here in the living room when my mother called. I frantically pull pillows from the couch, thinking maybe it slipped between, but find nothing other than a stray tissue. I try not to think about what could be happening behind me as I rush into the kitchen, spotting the gun on the counter. I grab it, just as I hear a bang against my front door.
The ringing stops, only to start up again immediately, and this time I get a bead on where it’s coming from. Another bang on the door, this time with the sound of wood splintering and I throw a quick peek over my shoulder. The frame is cracked but the door is holding.
Diving into the laundry room, I snatch my phone off the washer where I must’ve left it earlier while pulling the sheets from the dryer. My hands are shaking so bad, I have a hard time answering, when a loud crash startles me and I drop it on the floor. One quick glance up shows my front door hanging off its hinges and just as I see him push it open all the way, I quickly shut the door, closing myself in the laundry room and hoping he didn’t see me.
Except there’s no lock on this door.
The only thing close enough to block the door with is the dryer. There’s enough space between it and the wall to wedge myself in and I sink to the floor. With my back against the wall and feet braced against the base of the dryer, I push with all my might. I manage to move it halfway in front of the door.
I’m sure he knows where I am now, so I ignore my phone, which starts ringing for the third time, and with every ounce of strength I have I push the heavy appliance the rest of the way. Only then do I dive for my phone, scramble back behind the dryer, train the gun I’m still clutching in my hand on the door, and answer the call.
“He’s here,” I whisper.
“Is he inside?” my brother’s deep voice has an instant calming effect on me.
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Laundry room.”
Just then the door shakes with a loud pounding and I scream, drop the phone, and use both hands to hold my gun as steady as I can.
“We’re here,” I can faintly hear my brother say.
Jasper
Damian is out the door before I can even slam the truck in park.
My heart is beating in my throat after hearing Damian’s end of the conversation.
I’m close behind as he steps over the remnants of the front door, his gun already trained on Lipczyk, who is in the kitchen, kicking the door to the laundry room. The idiot is making such a ruckus, he doesn’t even hear us come in.
“FBI! Get your fucking hands up and step away from the door. Step away from the goddamn door!” Damian bellows as we approach cautiously.
“Get down on the floor! On the floor and spread your arms!”
Like the coward he is, the moment Lipczyk whips his head around to see two guns pointed in his direction, he folds like a cheap suit.
I take great satisfaction from his pained yelp when I plant my knee on his neck with a little extra force, while Damian cuffs and quickly checks him for weapons.
While he pulls the douchebag to his feet, I focus on the laundry room door.
“Bella? I’m coming in. Stand clear of the door.”
I brace my back against the door, and with my legs use steady force to push it open far enough for me to squeeze through. I’m almost knocked off my feet when a shadow comes flying and wraps around me like a monkey.
“It’s all good, Squirt,” I mumble, my hands under her ass to hold her up as her face burrows in my neck. “You did good, sweetheart.”
“Everything okay in there?” Damian calls out.
“Took you long enough,” Bella suddenly yells back at her brother, more feisty than her trembling body feels in my arms.
She drops her legs to get down, and I reluctantly let her go, stepping back so I can see her face. It’s clear she’s trying to pull herself together before facing her brother, and I help by brushing a few tears from her cheeks. She grabs my forearms and raises her eyebrows in question.
“You look fine. Tough. Cool as a cucumber.”
I’m rewarded with a small grin before she flings her hair back and steps around me and through the partially opened door. I follow her out, and am just in time to see her walk up to where Damian is holding Scott Lipczyk in handcuffs, and haul back and kick him square in the nuts.
I look at Damian over her head, both of us grinning wide.
CHAPTER 28
JASPER
The only thing worse than a crooked cop is a corrupt chief of police.
That’s why the last twenty-four hour period will be going down as one of the best memories of my law enforcement career.
“You have a right to an attorney present, but you realize then you’ll be going down for much more than those assault charges, right?”
It had been gratifying to see the panicked look on that son of a bitch’s face.
“What? You can’t pin anything on me.” Lipczyk tried for defiance but failed miserably.
“No?” Damian prompted, leaning over the table between them. “How does first-degree murder sound?” He casually checked his watch before sitting back in his seat. “In less than two hours from now, the body of one Margaret Elizabeth Davis will be on the medical examiner’s slab in Farmington, New Mexico. They’re digging up her body as we speak.”
“I had nothing to do with her murder. All I did was get him the propofol,” the coward sputtered, easily rolling over with his own ass on the line, much as expected.
“Who’s him?”
He glanced nervously at the one-sided mirror, likely afraid the man he referred to was on th
e other side, but he was at the police station, under close watch by Luna and Dylan. The only people on the other side of that mirror in the small interrogation room, in the basement of the FBI field office on Rock Point Drive, were Keith Blackfoot, our mayor, and myself.
Finally he turned back to Damian and nailed not only the chief of police to the cross, but his own father as well.
“My dad told me, Tom McMahan needed it. McMahan killed her.”
That was yesterday, and right now I’m crowded into a similar small closet-sized space on the other side of a one-way mirror, but at the Durango police station. This time I’m in the company of my team, while Blackfoot has the privilege of informing McMahan of his rights and the charges against him. U.S. Marshals are waiting outside the door to transport McMahan to New Mexico, where he’ll be answering to the murder charge first.
McMahan knows he’s done for and just glares at Keith, who looks like he might actually be smiling. He doesn’t utter a single word when the Marshals come in and cuff him, but turns his eyes to the ground in front of his feet, as he is led through a dead silent station house under the condemning scrutiny of his entire department.
Shackled and waiting in the transport truck outside is Eugene Lipczyk, ready to be handed over to the authorities in New Mexico to face charges of bribery, and conspiracy to murder.
The drive to Farmington will be an interesting one. I’d love to be a fly on the wall.
“Where are you off to?” Damian asks, when we step out of the police station.
“Picking up your sister from work. I dropped her off this morning.”
I chuckle when he winces.
“Grateful you’re looking after my baby sister, but for fuck’s sake, do you have to remind me she’s in your bed every night? This shit is awkward enough.”
“Better get over it,” Luna pipes up as she passes by. “Our Jasper looks like he might like to keep her there indefinitely.”
“Ah, Christ. You serious?”
I clap Damian on the shoulder and grin at his scowl.
“Better fuckin’ believe it. Shouldn’t you be welcoming me to the family, Bro?” I tease.
“That’s fucking Boss to you, Greene.”
I laugh all the way to my truck.
BELLA IS WAITING FOR me outside, talking to Joanne, when I drive up.
“Hey, honey.”
I smile at her endearment when she pulls open the passenger door. “Squirt.”
“Joanne wants a chance to thank you.”
“Sure thing.”
I’m barely out of my seat when I have Joanne hanging off my neck, with Bella grinning in the background. I hug the woman back before setting her firmly back on her feet.
“I just wanted to thank you, and everyone else who helped bring him in.” She smiles shyly. “I was this close to giving up my job here and moving.”
“Team effort and we wouldn’t have had a case against him if you hadn’t been courageous enough to file charges.”
“And I wouldn’t have done that if you hadn’t convinced me. So thank you, and one of these days, I’d love to have Bella and you over for dinner.”
“That sounds good to me. I’ll leave the planning up to Bella, I have a feeling she’ll be in charge of our social calendar.”
I grin when I get back in the truck, realizing how true that statement probably is. I’ve never had a social calendar to begin with. I watch as the two women hug and seem to share a moment of levity before Bella climbs in the passenger seat.
“What was that all about?” I ask, as I drive off the parking lot and Bella starts to giggle.
“It’s a girl thing. She was telling me earlier she had no idea you were such a hunk until you picked her up the other day, but she was too nervous to enjoy the view. So I told her if she hung around until you got here, she could get her fill.”
“You think I’m a hunk?” I grin, looking at her sideways, as she rolls her eyes.
“I never said that. Joanne does, though.” The little minx is laughing at me.
“Right. So you thought you’d invite her to feel me up?”
“Shut up, she did not feel you up,” she mocks, smacking my arm. A moment later she adds, “Did she?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh.
“Hey, where are we going?”
Instead of heading to my apartment, where she’s been staying the past couple of nights, I continue on the 160 to her place.
“What? How did you get that done so fast? I was going to send the landlord an email first.” She’s looking at the new frame and front door, I had put in this morning.
“One of my neighbors is a handyman. I ran into him yesterday and he had time today.”
“It’s gorgeous. How much is that gonna set me back?”
“Shouldn’t set you back anything. Your insurance should take care of it.” I hand her the keys I picked up at my apartment earlier, along with her things I have tossed in the back seat. “Head on inside, he fixed the door to the laundry room as well.”
I grin as she almost skips to the front door and lets herself in. I snag both her bag and my small overnight from the back and follow her inside.
“These are solid wood,” she says. She’s busy inspecting the laundry door, but turns when she hears me come in. “I don’t know if the insurance...” She stops mid-sentence when she notices her bag in my hands. “I’m staying here tonight?”
“We both are.” I show her my overnight stuff too.
“Phew—for a minute I thought you were trying to get rid of me.”
I drop the bags and walk over to her, lifting her on the counter so we can be eye to eye, and take her face in my hands.
“Just so we’re clear—there is not a chance in hell of that ever happening.”
Her face softens and those pretty brown eyes of hers turn to liquid heat.
“Never?”
“Not. Fucking Ever.”
Bella
I’ve been on cloud nine since Jasper’s declaration. Of sorts.
Despite the fact, once again, I just couldn’t find the words for an appropriate response, I’m in a celebratory mood.
So I’m making enchiladas and refried beans, occasionally taking a sip of my wine, while Jasper sits on a stool at the counter and gives me the details of his day, nursing his cold beer. It feels very domestic, and I can readily imagine this being a daily routine. One that would take no effort at all to get used to.
“So when do your parents get here?”
“Sometime Saturday afternoon, they’re staying at the Best Western, although they could’ve bought a condo by now with all the money they’ve been wasting this past year alone.”
Of course my folks found out about the latest drama in my life and called yesterday to announce they were coming to Durango to see for themselves that I survived. Again.
“I’m sure they don’t see it as a waste, but I was thinking...wouldn’t make sense for them to stay at my apartment? It could sleep four—the couch is a pullout—and six if you throw a couple of air mattresses on the floor. It’s big enough.”
“You mean stay with you?”
My face must’ve conveyed my puzzlement because Jasper starts laughing.
“Not exactly, Squirt. Since I’ll be staying here with you.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but are you sure you’ll be okay here? I mean, I couldn’t help but notice how very tidy your apartment is—everything in it’s place, a little stark and austere—and my place is...well...not.”
He throws his head back and howls. A little peeved, I forcefully shove the enchiladas in the oven, put my fist on my cocked hip, take a few sips of my wine, and wait for him to be done.
“Come here.” He tries to charm me when he notices my stance, beckoning me with both his hands, but I stand firm. “Isabella...I need you to come here so I can explain something.”
It’s on my lips to tell him I’m not a dog, but instead I raise an eyebrow. Finally he gets up, walks over to me, takes the gla
ss from my hand, and folds me in his arms. Mine are down by my side, but already I feel myself melting. He doesn’t play fair. Won’t even let me hold on to a good snit.
“My apartment has no personality. It’s a place to roll into bed at night, and eat an occasional meal, if I’m lucky. It’s bare, because it’s not a home.” He lifts my chin with a finger so I have to look at him. One side of his mouth is pulled up in a swoon-worthy grin, and his blue eyes sparkle. “That’s why I like it here. Your house is warm, inviting—like you. It feels like home because I look forward to coming here—to you.”
“Gah!” I stomp my foot in frustration. “Every time you do this to me.”
“What did I do?”
“You say these really sweet things that make me feel all mushy inside, and I want to say something sweet back, but every time I’m at a loss for words. It’s frustrating.”
He slips his hands around my neck and dips his head to kiss me sweetly.
“You don’t need to say anything,” he murmurs against my lips.
“But then how are you supposed to know I like coming home to you too? And that you’re not the only one falling? In fact, I’m pretty sure I’m already in love with you.”
“I already know, because I’m a master of observation. It’s all in the eyes.”
Right. Whatever. I instantly roll them heavenward; let him read that.
“I’m not kidding,” he insists. “Here, try it. What do you see?”
Slowly I focus on the laugh lines framing his eyes, the crystal clear of his blue, and finally the message they hold.
“You’re in love with me too.”
I’m rewarded with a warm smile and a soft brush of his thumb along my bottom lip.
“That I am, Squirt.”
CHAPTER 29
JASPER
“Are you ready? They’re expecting us in twenty minutes!”
“Squirt, I’ve been ready for the past twenty.”