Grace Under Fire

by Jerri Drennen

  ****

  Grace sat on a lumpy bed, her hands and feet tied in front of her. Shock had taken her off somewhere, but she was becoming aware of her surroundings again. She blinked and turned her head to the left, then right, until her gaze landed on what had sent her into the catatonic state to begin with. Vincent sat in a chair, his eyes narrowed at her.

  This had to be a dream, a figment of her imagination. Vincent was dead. How could he be sitting across the room, looking at her as if she were some annoying child?

  “It’s me, baby.” He jumped from the chair and came to stand next to the bed. “I’m not a ghost.”

  “But how?”

  “I know this is a hard thing to swallow. You see, I wasn’t in the car that exploded. It was a man who looked like me.”

  Grace heard his confession and her jaw dropped. This was just too much to comprehend.

  “Why?” she asked, fighting her restraints.

  “That’s a good question, Grace. There were a number of reasons, actually. First, I was in trouble at the Ninth. They knew I’d been taking kickbacks from Jack Neil in exchange for keeping the cops off his back. For that, he was quite generous. He was the one who paid for our house.”

  “What? I thought you inherited it.”

  “No. How stupid are you? That’s just something I told everyone so they wouldn’t get suspicious.”

  Grace flinched at his insult and tears filled her eyes.

  “Don’t start crying,” he snapped. “You can’t help that you’re dumb. That’s why I married you. I could do whatever I wanted without worrying about you figuring things out. Heck, we didn’t have sex for months and you never once questioned me about that.” He chuckled. “Most intelligent women would have at least wondered why I wasn’t interested.”

  Grace’s heart split in two. How could this be the man she’d taken vows with, promised to love and honor? He knew nothing about either.

  He slapped her in the head. “Cat got your tongue? Can’t deny any of your stupidity?”

  Tears stung her eyes and her head hurt. This man was not the same one she knew. He was crazy.

  “God, Grace, I screwed around on you all the time. Heather was just the last. She was adventurous in bed. You would just lie there. So many times I wanted to slap you to get some kind of response, but I was afraid good old Cord would notice. His greedy eyes were on you from the moment I first brought him to the house. He mooned over you like a lost puppy. It just made me sick, especially when I knew how frigid you were.”

  Grace sucked in a ragged breath, tears trailing down her cheeks. Vincent moved to pace in front of the bed. “Does it hurt to hear that? Imagine what it was like for me to be married to you. A cold fish in bed, one who had a full-time job to keep her from at least making me a decent meal at night.”

  What did he want her to say? That she was sorry his stomach had suffered? To hell with that. “What do you want from me? Why appear now, after all this time?”

  “Another good question. I’m surprised you thought of it. You see, Cord’s sticking his nose into my business, not to mention into my wife’s crotch.” He shook his dark head. “I really thought you’d mourn my passing a little longer, Grace. You sure jumped into bed with my partner awful fast. I’m really disappointed in you.”

  Grace couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was angry with her for not grieving longer? How ironic was that? “Why should you care what I do?” she said through clenched teeth. “You as much as said you faked your death to get away from me. Why all the concern about who I sleep with now?”

  “Because, dear wife, it’s Cord. Cord, the perfect cop. A man I could never be. Did you know they called him By-The-Book Rawlings at the precinct? He made me sick. He thought I was his best friend. What a joke. I undermined him to everyone who’d listen.”

  Grace’s temper ignited. “You’re disgusting. Cord’s a good man. And frankly, a much better lover than you ever were. With him I don’t just lie there. I actually enjoy making love to him.” The slap she received for her declaration echoed in her ears, stinging her cheek and bringing fresh tears to her eyes.

  “You slut. You’ll be changing your tune before I’m through with you.”

  She glared at him. “Did you send me those roses?”

  “Yes. Did you like them? I was a little put off that day. You see, I had watched the two of you pawing at each other the day before at the shop.” He stopped pacing and glared at her. “You never acted that passionate with me. If you had, maybe I’d have shown myself sooner. Heather’s as big as a house right now. She can barely walk, let alone satisfy me.” He winked at Grace. “You’re looking good. I like the supermodel look on you, especially after being around her these last few months.”

  “I can’t believe you, Vincent. She’s pregnant.”

  “That was not my greatest accomplishment, believe me. I told her I wanted her to have an abortion, but she refused. The bitch. I should have ended it then and there, but I needed a place to hide out and she helped with that.”

  “At the hospital, I could have sworn I’d seen her somewhere before. Is that possible?”

  “It probably wasn’t her so much as her perfume. She’d been in our house. In our bed.”

  Grace struggled to get loose from the ropes. She wanted to rip his head off. How dare he have the nerve to bring another woman into her bed?

  “Yeah, it was while you were working.” His words ceased her struggles. “I’d take off early. We’d do nasty things in our bed—on the sheets you slept in later that night. I think deep down inside I was hoping you’d catch us. It was like a game, one that made life so much more exciting. Just like the Ninth. I played the game there, too, until I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. That’s when I knew I had to die.”

  Grace had so many questions. She asked the one that was most important. “Who was in the car that exploded?”

  He shrugged. “No one important. Some jerk who worked for Jack. He looked a lot like me. We had the same build. It was easy to fool everyone. All I had to do was throw my badge in there and no questions were asked. They just assumed it was my body. Everything went according to plan, too, until Cord came out of his drunken stupor and stuck his nose where it didn’t belong.”

  “Cord was just trying to help. So, it was you watching me.”

  Vincent laughed. “Yes, it was. Believe it or not, I missed you. I watched outside the house when I could get away. You spent a lot of time crying those first few months. I liked that. I was impressed by your loyalty. Until Cord came back.”

  Grace scowled at him. He had some nerve enjoying her suffering twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.

  “You know what was really funny—you and Cord almost caught me at Portelli’s. The night you and he had dinner. I was a few booths over, with Jack.”

  Grace remembered the night. His back had been to them. Why hadn’t she known it was him?

  “I have a question for you, Grace. Did you have the hots for Cord when we were happily married?”

  Grace gritted her teeth, holding back what she wanted to say.

  Had they ever been happily married? Obviously, for Vincent the answer was a resounding no. She would love to tell him where to shove his accusation, but thought better of it. He’d probably slap her again.

  “No,” she said with venom. “That’s all I’m going to say.”

  “Did you know he was in love with you then?”

  “No. You’re crazy.”

  Vince shook his head. “You were blind to his feelings, but I wasn’t. He’d follow you around a room with those sad, puppy dog eyes. I’ve never seen a sorrier sight in my life.”

  Grace glared. Then anger filled her. “Why is that? Is it so hard to believe someone could care about me?”

  “Well, think about it, Grace. Your parents couldn’t even stick around long after my funeral.”

  Grace’s stomach dropped. She stared hard at him. “How do you know when my parents left?”

  He
sighed. “That’s something I feel really bad about.” The sound of a car’s engine had Vincent racing to the door.

  “Well, well. So he came. I guess it’s time to end this farce. Your lover is going to die. But not before he gets to view me having one last romantic encounter with my wife. So, get ready, baby. One way or another, I’m going to make you scream.”

  Grace Under Fire

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cord removed his sling and took a deep, calming breath. All he could think about was saving Grace.

  His heart raced as he entered the Bay Court Motel’s office. He walked up to the counter. The man behind the desk looked like a weasel, with his pointed nose and beady, too-close-together eyes. A perfect representation for the dive he worked at. Bay Court was one of the local pay-by-the-hour motels, frequented by hookers and their clientele. Cord had busted his share of them over the past two years.

  “Can I help you?” The man’s voice was annoying.

  “I need the room number for Martin Andrews.”

  The desk clerk nodded, opened a book in front of him, and ran his finger down the page, stopping halfway from the bottom. “He’s in room seventy-six, but I don’t think he’s up for company. He had a hot little number with him.”

  Cord snarled at the man. No one had a right to say that about Grace.

  Cord spun around without so much as a thank you and stalked outside. He glanced to the left to see how the numbers ran, then took a left up the stairs. Vince’s room was on the upper level.

  With each step, his heart quickened.

  Stay cool. If you don’t, it could cost Grace her life.

  He had to convince Vince that he wouldn’t gain anything by killing her. He’d play on the man’s sympathies. If he had any. One thing Vince couldn’t deny was the fact that Grace had been a devoted wife. There was no way he could dispute that.

  On the upper level, Cord pulled his gun from the shoulder holster buckled around him and checked the rounds in the magazine. Fully loaded. Hopefully, he wouldn’t need to fire a round. He was determined to talk his and Grace’s way out of that room.

  Room seventy-six was all the way at the end of the walkway. He stood staring at the putrid green door, his heart pounding a frantic, harrowing rhythm in his chest.

  If Grace weren’t inside, he’d go in guns blazing and take Vince out. After all, it was nothing less than he deserved. But Grace was with him, and Cord wasn’t about to take any chances with her life.

  He rapped hard on the door and waited. A chain rattled and the door came open.

  Cord sucked in a breath when he saw Vince. Up until this moment, he’d harbored a snippet of hope he’d been wrong about his partner, but there he stood as proof of his deception. An evil plot that had cost an innocent man his life. It was hard for Cord to keep his contempt at bay. He wanted to wring Vince’s neck.

  “Hello, partner. I bet you thought you’d never see me again.”

  “Vince.” His name came out in a hiss.

  Vince gave him a wicked grin. “I guess that means you’re not happy to see me.”

  Cord snorted at his cavalier attitude. Vince had a lot of balls, considering he was a liar, a cheat, and worst of all, a murderer.

  “Come on in. We need to talk.” He moved aside to allow Cord into the room.

  Cord didn’t hesitate. He stalked inside. Grace was just inches away, and he’d die before he let Vince lay one finger on her.

  His gaze made a beeline to find her, his eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. He found her on the bed, her hands and feet tied, her eyes huge and filled with tears.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “How touching.” Vince pulled his .38 out of the back of his pants, pointing it at Cord.

  Cord headed for Grace, but Vince shoved him toward a chair in the corner instead. “Sit down.”

  Cord sat, his anger growing more intense by the second.

  Vince pointed his weapon at Grace. “I need your gun, Cord.”

  Grace let out a whimper.

  He was in deep shit without his firearm, but he had no choice. The look on Vince’s face said he’d have no qualms about shooting his own wife.

  Cord pulled the gun out of his shoulder holster and handed it to Vince.

  “Now, I want you to put your hands behind your back, Rawlings. I don’t trust you to stay seated when I tell you why I had to play dead.”

  Cord narrowed his gaze at him. “I already know everything.”

  “I don’t think you know everything. Like—where are my wife’s parents?”

  Grace gasped and Cord tried to jump up to comfort her, but Vince stuck the barrel of the gun against his chest and pushed him down. “Hands behind your back, Cord. Now, or I’ll hurt Grace. I know you don’t want me to do that.”

  Cord scowled, but did as he was told and placed his hands behind him. He flinched with pain when Vince pulled his arms back and handcuffed him through a rung in the chair. He was at Vince’s mercy now, as Grace was. Maybe he should have come in guns blazing—their chances would have probably been better.

  Hell, he couldn’t reason with a mad man, and that was something that was becoming quite apparent about Vince. He’d lost all semblance of sanity.

  Grace fought with the ropes at her wrists. She had to get loose, or she and Cord would die.

  Vince wasn’t going to allow either one of them to leave that motel room. Not breathing. And that was not something she’d accept. She had plans for her future—ones that Cord would be part of. She’d known that the minute he entered the room. Everything had become clear to her. She loved him with all her heart. He’d come to her rescue. To her that spoke volumes about his feelings for her.

  Grace took a deep breath and wiggled her hand against the rope, intense pain shooting up her arm. She had to fight the pain. This was her only chance. Vince’s attention was on Cord. This was her opportunity to get free and help him.

  “I didn’t want to do any of this, Cord,” Vince said, drawing her attention away from the ropes. “I liked my life. But they’d gotten wind of what we’d been doing at the Ninth, and I had no choice.”

  “We,” Cord repeated, his gaze questioning. “What do you mean by we?”

  “Prince and Tidwell. When Jack Neil came to me, it was just too tempting not to take the money. I wanted nice things, and on a cop’s salary, you can’t have them. With Jack’s help, I could have anything I wanted. A new house in a great neighborhood. A forty-thousand-dollar car. Women by the dozens. You name it. The opportunities were endless. That’s why I took the money. Once you do something illegal, it’s easy to go the next step. Like a domino effect. One crime leads to another. Eventually the crimes get worse. I’d killed in the line of duty.” Vince sighed. “It wasn’t any different when it wasn’t. Killing is killing, though I really didn’t want to kill Grace’s parents. But I had no choice. They saw me at the airport.”

  Grace went numb inside. He was lying. He couldn’t have killed them.

  “Grace, I’m real sorry about that. They gave me no choice, baby.”

  “How did you get them to leave with you?” Cord asked.

  Vincent shrugged. “I had to think fast. I told them my murder was an undercover sting to weed out bad cops at the Ninth. I informed them that I couldn’t even tell their daughter about what I was doing.”

  Grace closed her mind to his confession. She had to get free. Once she did, she was going to claw his eyes out.

  “I asked them to come with me to talk to my superior officers. I took them to Chicago Grade landfill and the rest, you can just imagine for yourself.”

  Grace swiped at her tears with her arms, then fought with the ropes again. A hand slipped free. Her heart rate increased. She was loose. Now she had to untie her feet without him noticing. Cord glanced at her and she shook her head, hoping he’d not draw Vince’s attention toward her.

  “How did you kill Andrews?” Cord asked, obviously having read her mind.

  Vince
laughed. “That was easy. He’d do anything Jack asked him to. I guess he was afraid of losing his job if he didn’t. I think he had two sniveling brats at home to support. Anyway, I couldn’t just shoot him. The coroner might notice something like that. I drugged him. He was still alive when the car exploded.”

  Grace pulled the rope through the knot and released her feet, sickened by how matter-of-fact Vince could be about murdering someone—a hardworking man with young children. Her husband was a monster, and she hoped he’d rot in jail for what he had done.

  Now that she was free, what was she going to do? She glanced around, hoping to find something she could use to knock him out.

  A small alarm clock sat on the night table next to the bed, but it didn’t look heavy enough to inflict much damage. Maybe she could get to his gun?

  She shook her head. Vince was too strong to attempt that.

  Think, Grace. What would Cord do?

  She could try to escape and call for help.

  No, that wouldn’t work. By the time they came, Cord could be dead. She couldn’t chance that—not with the man she planned to spend the rest of her life with. Besides, the door was locked and the chain secured. She’d probably get caught before she even made it to the door.

  She looked down at her boots.

  Hmmm. What if she took one off and whacked his hands hard with the heel? He’d drop the gun, and she could scramble to get it before he recovered.

  Would it work? Maybe, maybe not. But she had to do something. They were running out of time.

  With shaky hands, she unlaced the boot and eased it off her foot, then slid to the side of the bed. She’d only get one chance to do this right. It had to work, or she and Cord were going to die.

  Scooting off the bed, she brought the boot up and slammed it down on Vince’s hands.

  He dropped the gun and it skittered across the floor. She raced to get to the gun, Vince hot on her heels. She dove on top the gun, screaming when Vince landed hard on top of her.

  Grace wrestled with him, fighting for control of the gun beneath her. Her hand made contact at the same time his did. She held tight. Her life depended on her gaining the upper hand. She couldn’t allow him to get it away from her. Pain shot through her finger when he bent it back. She released the gun.