by Jamie Hill
"Stupid bitch. We don't have time to go through this again. More cops are on their way down here. I stalled to buy you maybe five minutes. You've wasted most of that. This is your last chance to get out of here. Leave Stone and scoot out that door. Keep on walking. You won't be able to get to your car, so you'll have to figure that out for yourself. Time is running out. Go!"
She looked back and forth from the stairwell to Nate. Backing Stone up to the door, Becker opened it and shoved Stone to the floor. She darted out the door and it closed behind her.
"She's getting away!" Nate yelled. He ran to Stone and helped him up, then reached for the door knob.
The man from the stairwell stepped out in full SWAT gear. "She won't get very far." He pulled off his mask and Nate recognized Captain Gray.
"What the fuck?" Nate swore.
He heard a voice yell "Clear!" from behind the door. Gray motioned for him to open it. Nate did, and saw Becker in the custody of a dozen SWAT team members.
Nate leaned against the doorjamb and caught his breath. "What the fuck," he muttered again.
Gray smiled. "The only true thing I said was calling Becker stupid." He looked at her. "Webb doesn't care about you, you foolish dimwit. You're on your own from here on out. No one in this building is going to lift a finger to go out of their way for you. You mess with one of us, you mess with all of us." He looked at the men who held her arms. "Get her out of my sight."
The team members brushed past Nate and Stone in single file, leading Becker away. Gray took up the rear. "Nice work Agent Willis. Come on up, we'll have an EMT take a look at your head."
"I'm okay," Nate mumbled, still in shock with reality slowly setting in. He looked at Stone who was grinning wildly.
"That was frightening and fucking amazing, all at the same time!"
"Yeah." Nate couldn't seem to clear his head. Maybe I do need to have it looked at.
"Come on." Stone directed him to follow Gray. "Get your skull checked, and call Mel with the good news."
"Good news," Nate agreed.
Stone's grin still reached from ear to ear. "Think I might get a medal?"
* * * *
Mel stared at the knives, wondering how she might grab one of them.
"Get up, Mama. That's for our game later." Webb yanked her arm toward the chair. "Sit here. I think I'd like to see you in pigtails. Do it."
"I, uh, need a comb."
"Fuck the comb. Do it."
She parted her hair with her fingers and tried to divide it evenly. She didn't really care, but figured every minute she spent doing that was another minute alive, and not in bed with Dick Webb. "Shall I braid them?"
"Yeah!" He smiled.
"I'll need some rubber bands. They're in the kitchen."
"Too bad. Go without."
"Um, there might be some in the bathroom."
He eyed the small bathroom, then looked at her. "Forget it. You're just trying to be a pain in the ass. I'm bored with you already. Gonna fuck you now and get it over with. Put on the cheerleader vest and skirt."
Mel's fingers wove her pigtails into quick braids. "Dickie, look. Aren't these pretty? You said you liked braids. I want to make you happy."
"Uniform." He pointed to it with the toe of his boot.
"I just need a couple bands—"
He grabbed the front of her teddy and ripped it off. The thin fabric shredded and tore, leaving Mel naked in front of him. "I said, uniform."
She reached for the vest and slipped it on. The skirt was too tight and it clung to her waist, not hiding anything. She could tell by the look in his eye that didn't matter. He was already thinking about the next part of their game.
Something caught Mel's eye and she glanced at the dresser nearest the bathroom. Her clothes from the night before were stacked there neatly. She hadn't done that. Had Webb?
Nate. Nate had done it. He'd also left his back-up gun in the drawer there the night before. Had he taken it that morning? She had one chance to find out.
If she dived for it and the weapon wasn't there, Webb would be furious. He's going to be unhappy either way, she decided. I'm not going down without a fight. He might rape her, and he might kill her. She intended to inflict as much damage in return as she could.
Mel inhaled, let the breath out, and exclaimed, "Hey, I just remembered. I have some ponytail bands right here." She dashed forward, grabbed the drawer handle and yanked. The small black handgun winked at her when a ray of sunlight hit the barrel.
"Get the fuck back here!" Webb reached for her.
Mel released the safety and spun around, firing.
* * * *
Nate dialed Mel's cell number and it went straight to voicemail.
"You need to let me clean this." The buxom, red-haired EMT lowered Nate's hand and pressed a gauze pad to his temple.
"I'm okay," he insisted. "I need to get ahold of Mel."
"She's going to be excited to hear from you! You and Stone cleared her name. You're heroes!"
He pushed redial and hit speakerphone. The voicemail message sounded again. "I have to go," he told the woman.
"I'm almost done. It's not a deep cut, but head wounds always bleed a lot. You might have a slight concussion. I'd recommend going to the hospital and getting checked out." She pressed a bandage on his head.
"That's fine, thanks." He managed to escape her grasp and flee the small room.
Stone and Reeder waited for him. "You okay?" Reeder asked.
"I'm fine, but I can't reach Mel. She should be answering her phone. She knew I was going to call."
Reeder waved a hand. "She's probably in the shower, or watching that blabber talk stuff on TV."
Nate caught his eye, imploring the man to hear him. "I don't think so. One last time, I'm asking you to trust my gut. Something's wrong."
Reeder nodded. "Stone, go with him. Lights and sirens. I'll send two black and whites with you."
"Let's go!" Stone agreed.
"Thank you!" Nate called, and raced to the door.
The black and whites let him lead the way. Nate flipped on all the bells and whistles the bureau car had to offer and practically flew to Mel's house.
"It looks quiet," Stone said as they screeched to a halt in the driveway.
"Too quiet." Nate pulled his weapon and reached for his keys, unlocking the front door. "Mel?" he called loudly.
For one brief moment, he hoped like hell she wasn't grilling something on the patio. The four cops rushing in behind them probably wouldn't see the humor. "Mel!" he yelled again.
"Bedroom," she finally answered.
He exchanged nervous glances with Stone as they crept down the hall. "You decent, honey?" Nate peered around the corner.
Mel stood, half naked, in an ill-fitting cheerleader's uniform. Dick Webb's body was sprawled across the bed, three bullet holes in his chest oozing blood. She gazed at Nate and the gun in her hand began to shake.
"Son-of-a-bitch!" Nate exclaimed. He took a step closer to her. "It's okay, Mel. Give me the gun."
Stone felt for Webb's pulse. "He's dead." He glanced at Mel and Nate. "I've never said this before in my life, but good fucking riddance."
"No truer words." Nate removed his gun from Mel's hand and folded her into his arms. "Oh my God, baby. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Anger welled from deep within, and he pulled away to look in Mel's face. "Did he touch you? Did that sick bastard lay one finger on you?"
She shook her head. "No. Not really. He pushed me around a little. Told me about the big plans he had for me. We were just getting to the gist of it when I remembered your back-up gun."
He pulled her tight again and laughed. "I'm glad you remembered it and I didn't! Otherwise, I would have taken it this morning."
She nodded and let him hold her.
Stone cleared his throat. "Um, guys?" He nodded to the four cops in the doorway. He grabbed Mel's robe from the hook on the closet door and handed it to Nate.
"Thanks." Nate wrapped it around her.
He told Mel, "Let's get your statement and get this ass wipe out of here. Then we'll clean you up and get some decent clothes."
"Okay." Mel slipped her arms into the robe and cinched it around her waist.
"Hey!" Stone piped up. "While you were lounging around in bed this morning, Willis and I were busy saving your ass. They're calling us heroes, even."
She raised her brows at Nate.
He smiled and tossed a quick glance toward Webb. "You saved your own ass, babe. We just helped clear your name. Becker confessed to everything and is being held in custody."
"Becker?" Mel blinked, then must have noticed his head. "Oh, what happened?" She touched the bandage gently.
"She clocked me," Nate admitted. "I'm fine, just wounded my pride. Let's leave that part of the story out when we tell our grandchildren, okay?"
Mel grinned. "You got it."
He curled an arm around her waist and led her past the officers to the other room.
Stone followed. "Grandchildren?"
* * * *
Mel and her father sat in a small conference room next to the IA administration office on Friday afternoon. She'd spent the morning being debriefed about the shooting and its aftermath. Now, her hearing was underway. She brushed lint off her rarely-worn skirt and picked at a tiny string nervously.
Cappie caught her hand and squeezed. "Relax. Hank Reeder told you this is a formality. You've already been cleared. IA needs to tidy things up in their own way."
"I know." She sighed. "It's just been one hell of a week."
"Not all of it was bad," he teased.
"You're right. Highs and lows. But I'm ready to get off the roller coaster. Some peace and quiet sounds good right about now."
"Understood." He squeezed her hand again. "How was the hotel last night?"
She smiled. "It was nice. I know I need to go home soon. Henry promised me the mess was cleaned up. I'm just not ready to face it yet."
"You could have stayed at my place, you know."
She shot him a yeah, right look.
"I told you, I like Nate. I hope he sticks around."
"He will." She felt a chill and rubbed her upper arms.
Henry Stone joined them, dressed in his best Sunday suit.
"Look at you." Mel smiled. "How did it go?"
"I clean up pretty good, don't I?" He dusted off the arm of his jacket. "My testimony? Piece of cake. They asked like three questions. You know this is just a formality, don't you?"
"I know. I just hate waiting."
"What are you waiting for?" Brady Marshall entered the room, also dressed in a sharp black suit.
Mel stood and gave him a hug. "For this to be over with. Thanks for coming, Brady."
He hugged her then took a step back and smiled. "Anytime. I told them what a rotten person you are, how you kick puppies and drown little children—or was that drown puppies and kick little children?"
"Jerk." She swatted his chest.
"Nah." He leaned in to her, still grinning. "My report was truly glowing. A saint among us, that type of thing. Not sure what Jack's going to say. He worked with you longer than I did."
"Jack's here?"
"He's in there now."
"Aw." Mel felt tears well. She'd asked Brady and Henry to testify. Jack must have volunteered.
"He's a good guy," Cappie acknowledged. "Never see him at Morgan's, though. Heard he had another kid."
"That would be why," Marshall replied. "Four kids don't leave a man much breathing room. I'm sure his evenings are well-planned."
Cappie looked at Mel. "I'd settle for one, thank you very much."
She raised her hands in an exaggerated shrug. "Talk to Nate. He's the one who hyperventilates when the subject comes up."
Everyone laughed. "I noticed," Cappie said.
Henry started to say something but Mel shot him a look and cut it off. She'd tell her father that she and Nate had started discussing children, but now wasn't the time.
Jack Dunlevy entered the room and all eyes turned in his direction. "Where's the funeral?" His suit was as dark and formal as the rest.
"Hey you!" Mel approached and he scooped her into a big bear hug. "What are you doing here? You didn't have to come."
"Are you kidding? I remember my friends."
She touched a lock of the dark, shaggy hair that curled around his collar. He'd let it grow since he'd quit the force, and packed on a couple extra pounds. But he looked happy as hell, and Mel had always envied him for that. "Well, thank you. I assume you told them I kick puppies and children, too?"
He raised his right hand. "Only the truth, so help me God. I left out most of the poker game stories."
She chuckled. "Those might have incriminated my father worse than me."
"Hey, leave me out of this." Cappie rose and shook Jack's hand. "Congrats on the extended family. A boy this time?"
Jack beamed. "A beautiful baby boy. Scottie. He's got his daddy's appetite and his mama's temper. Keeps us hopping." He pulled out his phone and showed them a picture of the infant, and another of the child with his brothers and sister.
"They're gorgeous, Jack. Cindy is precious. Mark and Devon are huge. I can't believe how fast they're all growing."
"We're good." He nodded.
"And Crystal's doing well?"
"Crys is an amazing mom. She's definitely in her element. I do believe she gets prettier every day, too."
Marshall added, "She's been so much help to Gina and me with the twins. We knew nothing about babies, as you recall. It's been a learning experience, but I wouldn't trade a minute of it. When you see that first smile…." He looked at Jack, who nodded understanding.
Cappie nudged Mel. "See? People do it all the time. You don't have to know anything about babies. You can learn."
"Okay, Daddy, point taken."
"Daddy?" Stone, Marshall and Jack all repeated in unison.
Cappie waved a warning finger at them. "It's her new name for me, and I like it. So shush."
Stone mumbled, "Next thing you know we'll be calling you 'grandpa'."
Mel started to reply but was taken aback when she saw Nate enter the room. He was dressed in a formal black suit like all the others, and he was completely clean-shaven. She hadn't thought he could look any sexier, but somehow he pulled it off. "Hey," was the only word she could form.
"Hey," he replied, gazing into her eyes.
Marshall cleared his throat. "Willis, this is Jack Dunlevy, the former homicide cop we've told you about. Jack, this is Supervisory Special Agent Nate Willis with the FBI."
"Good to meet you Willis." Jack extended a hand.
Nate shook it. "My pleasure. I've heard great things about you."
"Don't believe 'em." Jack glanced at the other men. "I don't know about you fellows, but I think I'll cut out and leave these kids alone. Good to see you all."
"Thanks Jack," Mel called after him, and waved to Marshall and Stone as they left.
Cappie followed them. "I'll be waiting outside," he said to Mel. To Nate he said, "Nice suit."
"Thank you." Nate smiled and watched the older man leave.
Mel moved in front of him. "I told you not to shave."
He rubbed his chin. "Well, you see, there's a life lesson in that about our relationship. Sometimes I'm not going to do what you tell me. Get used to it."
She grinned. "I will." Lowering her voice, she added, "I didn't think you could get any hotter, but this smooth-face thing is doing something for me."
He smiled and started to reply when Reeder entered behind him.
Mel held up one finger. "Hold that thought." She stepped around him. "Yes, Captain?"
"The hearing is over," Reeder said gruffly. "Normally they give the accused time to make a statement, make their own case. They chose not to do that in this matter."
"What?" Mel had her statement all prepared.
"It's over, Curtis. You've been cleared of all charges, and IA expresses their gratitude for your cooperation in thi
s matter. The two hundred grand has to come out of your bank account, of course."
"Of course." Mel had expected to be cleared, but hearing the words now seemed almost surreal.
"The cash will go with what's left of Becker's bribe money into the police fund. The Fiscal Affairs department decides how it's spent. Usually it's on new equipment or funding community programs like Crime Stoppers and anti-gang awareness for kids."
"That's good," she agreed.
"There are a few loose ends to tie up. You and Willis need to do a press conference at four p.m. and announce that we've caught the slasher. We'll go over the details of the information we want released. It's not as sensitive now that Webb is dead and there won't be a trial. But his old man's been arrested, so he'll get his day in court. That jackass bribed so many people, and the ones that got caught are turning on him. So his case is pretty much open and shut."
"Any sign of Martin?" Nate asked.
Reeder shook his head. "There's an APB out on him, but nothing yet. If he got out of the country he might slide. But if he ever tries to come back, he better watch himself."
"That money's going to run out eventually." Nate looked at Mel. "I talked to the CSIs at your house yesterday. They said Zybowski's on suspension until his hearing."
Reeder said, "No one's rushing to get that done, either. They want to make damn sure he had no part in Martin's deception."
"Good." Mel shivered and rubbed her arms again. The mention of her house brought back memories she hadn't had time to erase yet.
"That's about it," Reeder said. "Oh, you've been promoted to Sergeant. The Crimes Against Persons department is going to ask if you'd like to head a task force for them. I told them I wasn't sure. It'd mean working pretty closely with the FBI." He glanced at Nate and tried not to smile.
"Sergeant?" Mel processed the bombshell he'd just dropped on her. "Task force?"
"Take a week and think about it. After the press conference you're on vacation for nine days. I don't want to see you anywhere near the WPD. The place will be crawling with reporters. Let us handle it. In fact, you might want to go somewhere and get away. Your front yard will be standing room only, too."