by Mary Burton
‘Damn.’ The arteries had sealed. ‘You’re a tough old bastard. Foolish to think I could destroy evil so easily.’
Undeterred, the Guardian grabbed a knife from the workbench and sliced through the femoral artery in Saunders’s leg. Saunders screamed. And this time the blood did flow. Saunders was dead in five minutes.
The Guardian hovered, mesmerized by the sight of Death, and with trembling hands combed Saunders’s hair until it was smooth. ‘There are so many more to kill.’
Chapter Nineteen
Wednesday, July 9, 5:30 A.M.
Lindsay woke with a stiff neck and a dull headache throbbing behind her eyes. She’d spent the better part of the night tossing, turning, until finally around three A.M. she’d fallen into a fitful sleep. She dreamt of eyes watching her.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed, shoved her hands through her tangled hair, and glanced at the clock. With a groan, she pushed out of bed and walked to the pile of running clothes by her door. Most mornings, she ran or did yoga. Physical exertion had a way of resetting the barometer in her body no matter how messed up life felt.
Today, she didn’t need quiet meditation. She needed to sweat, to push her muscles until they burned, and to have endorphins flooding her brain.
She dressed in jogging shorts and a tank and slipped on running shoes. Combing her fingers through her hair, she swept her thick blond strands into a high ponytail and moved quietly into the kitchen. She didn’t want to wake Nicole, who was an extremely light sleeper.
The coffeepot, always set for 5:45 A.M., was full of hot coffee. She poured a cup and sipped as she moved to the small table by the bed, where she kept her cell phone on a charger next to her house key. She glanced out the front window and searched for the morning paper. It hadn’t arrived. Frustrated, she took a few more sips of coffee and then hooked the phone to her waistband. She did a few stretches to loosen up her muscles.
Lindsay had a running buddy, Tasha Winters, and the two met near the University of Richmond on Wednesdays at Bandy Field, a small park inside the city limits. They started their workout with a few laps around the park’s large open sports field, and then they cut through either surrounding neighborhoods or the university campus.
She arrived at the park a couple of minutes past six and found Tasha stretching. Tasha was in her late twenties, petite, and had a tight muscular build. She reminded Lindsay of a pixie – a term Tasha hated. Too many people underestimated Tasha because of her small size, and all were surprised to learn she was a cop and a member of Henrico County’s canine unit.
Rex, Tasha’s Belgian shepherd, sat next to her, quietly waiting, watching, and ready to spring if she gave the command. The two had passed their twelve-week training course just six months ago and already they were inseparable. Rex was trained to find explosives.
Tasha saw Lindsay and waved. ‘Happy birthday.’
She’d forgotten her own birthday. ‘Thanks.’
‘You look like hell.’
Lindsay shrugged. ‘It’s been one of those years.’
‘Tell me on the trail. We’ve got to get cracking. I’ve got to be at headquarters by nine.’
‘Right.’ The two started off at a slow jog moving around the dirt path that circled the mile-long trail that cut through the park. Even after a mile Lindsay’s muscles didn’t relax. Normally during a run, this was when she hit her stride.
Tasha picked up her pace a notch, knowing Rex liked the workout. ‘So, what’s up?’
Lindsay struggled to match Tasha’s gait. ‘Do you want the long version or the short?’
‘We’ve got five miles to go. How about the long?’
‘Zack.’
‘Ah.’ Tasha had worked with both Lindsay and Zack and knew their history. ‘Is he investigating the homicide at the shelter?’
‘He’s one of the detectives on the case.’
‘So how did it go seeing him?’
‘Very weird. I don’t see him for a year and now he’s everywhere I turn.’
Tasha frowned. ‘This can’t be good.’
‘We went out to lunch yesterday. He took me to his parents’ restaurant.’
‘And?’ Tasha didn’t sound happy. She’d consoled Lindsay after the separation. She’d watched Lindsay cry until she was nearly sick.
‘It felt very odd.’
‘Sounds like you’re having doubts about the divorce. Again.’
‘No, I’m not. I need to finalize this.’
‘Then why haven’t you?’ The tension in her voice had Rex perking up his ears. Tasha smiled at the dog to reassure him.
‘I don’t know.’ She was having trouble finding a comfortable rhythm today.
Tasha wiped sweat from her brow, jumped over a pothole. ‘You know his work always – always – comes first. And don’t forget that little thing called his drinking problem. Or the little detour into that little cheesecake’s bed.’
The recap of Zack’s faults made Lindsay cringe. ‘I haven’t forgotten any of it. There were times I wished I could forget, but I haven’t forgotten.’
‘Good.’
Too many nights she longed for the old Zack. He’d been strong. With him she’d felt safe, a feeling she’d not had in more years than she cared to count. ‘He seemed different yesterday.’
Tasha shot her a you’ve-got-to-be kidding look. ‘Different how?’
Her heart raced and she found it harder to breathe evenly. ‘Different in the way he used to be, before the drinking.’
Tasha stopped and Rex halted. ‘You’re joking.’
Lindsay stopped. Sweat dripped from her forehead, stung her eyes. ‘What? I’m just saying he seems different.’
Tasha placed her hands on her hips. Her blue eyes looked as if they could breathe fire. ‘Do you know what you sound like?’
Lindsay wiped her brow. ‘I know, I know. One of my clients.’
‘That’s right. You sound like every woman whom you’ve ever counseled. How many times have you wanted to pull your hair out because one of your clients couldn’t see the bad in the man in her life?’
Lindsay’s defenses went up. ‘Zack is far from perfect, but he is a good man. He’s not like the others.’
‘Hey, don’t get me wrong. Zack isn’t a bad man. He’s flawed but he’s good at heart. And I like Zack. He’s one of the best cops on the force and I wish him the best. But he’s not husband material.’
Unshed tears stung Lindsay’s throat, forcing her to swallow hard. ‘I know.’
‘Look,’ Tasha said more softly, ‘my job here is not to rip out your heart, stomp on it, and make you suffer. But I don’t want you to forget that you and Zack separated for very good reasons.’
‘You’re right. You’re right.’ Maybe if she said it over and over it would sink into her own brain.
Tasha patted Lindsay on the shoulder. ‘There are a lot of really nice fish in the sea, kiddo. And a lot of them don’t come with the kind of baggage Detective Kier has. Don’t you have that nice doctor who’s interested?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well?’
‘Got it.’ Only she wasn’t interested in the other fish. She wanted Zack. Wanted what they’d had in the beginning.
They finished their loop around the park and it came time to cross Three Chopt Road and extend their run through the neighborhoods. Tasha went first and as Lindsay followed a van unexpectedly rounded the sharp curve. The driver hit the brakes and blared the horn.
Lindsay bolted the rest of the distance but paused on the side of the road, her heart pounding in her chest. ‘Damn.’
Tasha stopped. ‘Are you all right?’
Lindsay glanced at the van as it sped through the light a block away. ‘Yes.’
They started running through the neighborhood. The houses were small, one story, and most were built in the 1940s. The lots were large and most of the lawns were well manicured. Lindsay had always liked this neighborhood. She loved the feeling she got when she drove through. If sh
e lived in this area, she could walk to get coffee or jog over to the university.
There was a house on Morgan Street that she had always loved. It was one of the simpler houses and needed a lot of work. But there was a large bay window in the front, and the backyard was huge and got at least five hours of sun a day. She’d always been able to imagine herself filling the barren yard with loads of flowers.
‘Let’s go by my house and see if it’s still for sale.’ She’d been ecstatic to learn that last month it had gone on the market. She’d thought maybe she could put together some kind of creative financing plan and swing the asking price – that is, until she pulled the listing up on the Realtor’s Web site and saw the actual cost.
Tasha grimaced. ‘Why do you torture yourself? It’s too expensive.’
‘A girl can dream.’ She grinned. ‘Besides, it’s my birthday, remember? You have to humor me.’
‘I’m going to humor you only because it’s your birthday.’
They rounded the corner and turned down her street. She’d loved this street since the first time she’d jogged down here with Tasha a couple of years ago. They came almost weekly, though in the last few weeks, she’d been so absorbed with work that they’d had to cut their runs short before they reached this neighborhood.
As Lindsay approached her house, she noticed the FOR SALE sign was gone. For a moment she stopped. Her house had been sold. She didn’t realize until this moment how many dreams she’d pinned on this house. ‘Somebody bought my house.’
Tasha jogged in place. ‘Maybe it’s for the best.’
It didn’t feel like it was for the best. ‘I guess.’
Lindsay started to turn but spotted a Jeep in the driveway. The vehicle was black, had a soft top and a dented back right fender. It looked like Zack’s Jeep. And then she noticed the unmarked police Impala parked in front of it.
Zack.
‘What the devil are Zack’s cars doing in the driveway of my house?’ Lindsay said.
Tasha groaned when she saw the cars. ‘It’s not your house, Lindsay.’
Angrily, she swiped sweat from her brow. ‘Yeah, I know, but it’s not his either.’
‘He could be the person who bought it.’
Lindsay couldn’t imagine why Zack would have bought the house. He’d never really liked it. When they’d driven by it a few times, he’d always complained that the place would be a money pit for whoever bought it.
She clenched her fists. ‘He can’t buy my house. He knows how much I love this place.’
‘Lindsay, you’re sounding a little crazed and you’re getting worked up over a house that never belonged to you. Who cares what house Zack buys?’
‘Logically, I understand that what he chooses to do with his life now is none of my business. I should just walk away.’ Instead she marched up the driveway.
‘Where are you going?’ Tasha demanded.
‘To find out why Zack bought my house.’ Lindsay stomped up the front steps and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she pounded on it.
Tasha hovered in the driveway, not sure if she should run or drag Lindsay off the porch. ‘This is insane. We don’t even know if that’s Zack’s car.’
‘It’s Zack’s.’ Footsteps sounded in the hallway inside. Just to irritate him more, she banged on the door again.
‘I’m coming!’ Zack’s voice boomed through the closed door. There was no mistaking that he was pissed. Good. She could use a good fight now.
The front door swung open. Zack wore suit pants, a dress shirt, and a tie not yet knotted. His shirt cuffs were rolled midway up his forearms and his gun holster and cuffs hung from his belt. He smelled faintly of soap and aftershave. He held a cup of coffee in his hand.
Zack’s gaze initially reflected annoyance, then confusion and then understanding. ‘What are you doing here, Lindsay?’
The softness in his voice caught her by surprise and for a moment she hesitated. God, she had lost her mind. Quickly, she regrouped. ‘Why did you buy my house?’
He didn’t smile, but his eyes sparked with amusement. ‘It wasn’t your house.’
She planted her hands on her hips. ‘But you know I wanted to buy it.’
He sipped his coffee as if savoring this moment. ‘As I remember, there were no other bidders on the house.’ He sounded so damn reasonable.
Sweat dripped into her eyes. She swiped it away. ‘But you knew I loved this house.’
His shoulders filled the doorjamb. ‘What do you want me to say, Lindsay?’
She was acting like a lunatic. Unreasonable. And she didn’t care. ‘Damn it, Zack. This is my house. You know how much it means to me. Of all the houses in Richmond, why would you buy this one?’
Her tirade didn’t affect him in the least. ‘Care to have a look around?’
The abrupt shift caught her off guard. ‘What?’
‘Care to look around? I’d be happy to give you a tour.’ And without taking his gaze off Lindsay, Zack added, ‘Tasha, you and Rex are welcome to come in and look around as well.’
Tasha chuckled. ‘Front row seats to World War III? No thank you. Lindsay, let’s just get going. The house is gone.’
A bit of the fight drained from her. Tasha was right. The house and her dreams were gone.
Zack seemed to sense her shift in mood, but instead of encouraging her to leave, he challenged her with his darkened gaze. ‘Are you leaving or staying, Lindsay?’
Lindsay fumed. He knew she’d always wanted to look inside the house. He was using the house to get to her. Well, he was mistaken if he thought he could get under her skin again. ‘Tasha, I’m going to have a look around.’
Tasha shook her head. ‘Why?’
‘I want to see the place,’ Lindsay said defensively.
Zack sipped his coffee as if to hide a smile.
Tasha shook her head. ‘Well, I’ll take a pass. I’ll call you later.’
‘Thanks.’ She watched as Tasha and Rex jogged down the street back toward her parked car, just a few blocks away.
‘Are you coming in? I’ve got to be at work in an hour,’ Zack said.
Now very aware that she and Zack were alone and that she wore only her jogging top, thin shorts, and running shoes, Lindsay felt her resolve fade a fraction. But pride goaded her forward as she moved around him, careful not to touch him.
The house was a disaster. Piles of construction supplies were stacked high in the living room alongside unpacked moving boxes. Dust covered scuffed hardwood floors and the paint on the walls was an obnoxious shade of avocado green. She doubted the interior had been updated since the sixties.
But Lindsay could see beyond all that. The bones of this house were excellent. Plaster walls under the green paint were sure and strong, the doors were solid wood, and the hardwood floors would glisten once they were sanded and refinished. The large bay window in the living room looked even better from the inside and once it was cleaned would allow sunlight to fill the room.
She moved down the center hallway to a kitchen in the back. Zack had furnished the room with a retro Formica kitchen table that had a funky appealing style to it. Knowing Zack, he’d chosen it more for utility than style, but it fit the kitchen perfectly. On the kitchen counter, a modern coffeepot simmered fresh coffee.
Except for the refrigerator, which she’d bet was empty, the appliances were outdated and would need replacing sooner than later, but morning sunlight streamed into the room through the large picture window. It would be a bright cheery room once it was updated.
Seeing this place stirred dreams of children and laughter. For a moment, emotion tightened her throat. ‘You’ve got yourself a winner here.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ The deep timbre of his voice sunk into her bones. ‘By the way, happy birthday.’
It surprised her he’d remembered. ‘Thanks.’
‘Are you doing anything special?’
‘No. This week’s a little out of control.’
‘An unde
rstatement.’
She moved to the window over the sink and studied the backyard. It was a patch of weeds, and the oak tree way in the back needed serious trimming, but already she could picture marigolds and geraniums brightening up the darkness.
‘Any suggestions for remodeling?’ He stood so close she could smell the scent of his soap.
She had tons. Mentally, she’d already painted the living room a pale yellow and arranged her furniture to catch the light. She stopped her train of thought.
This house and the dreams that came with it were from a life she’d had to let go. ‘No, this is your gig. I’m going to have to find another dream house.’ And that thought triggered a swell of emotion. She hadn’t realized how often she’d dreamed about this house – about turning it into a real home. With Zack.
He brushed against her as he reached around her and set his coffee cup on the counter. The electricity from his touch startled her. It had been so long since he’d touched her and she felt half starved for contact. Sexual energy burned inside her.
‘Part of the reason I bought this house was that you loved it so much. I remember how you used to talk about the yard, the gardens.’
‘I’m not sure what to make of that comment, Zack.’ Her voice sounded husky. And she wanted to touch him.
‘I’ve dreamed of us living in this house too.’ His voice was raspy with emotion.
She met his gaze and, in a rare moment, saw the strong emotions he held on to so tightly. She nearly went to him.
And then she caught herself.
Tasha was right. This was a mistake. ‘I’d better go.’
Lindsay pushed past Zack and headed toward the front door. She had her hand on the doorknob.
‘Lindsay, don’t go.’
She hesitated, realizing how much she wanted to stay. She turned and took a step toward him.
He moved with purposeful steps down the hallway, closing the distance between them. Their faces were only inches apart.
Her heart pounded hard against her chest, its beat filling her ears. She was certain he could hear it.