by Judy Kentrus
ARREST OF THE HEART
Published by Lady K Publishing
Copyright 2015, Lady K, Inc.
This e-book of fiction was written for your own personal enjoyment. Names, characters and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording without the permission in writing from the publisher.
Judykentrus.com
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to my husband, Sgt. Joseph C. Kentrus, who served in law enforcement for twenty-five years and to all the police officers who lay their lives on the line every day to serve and protect.
“A hero is someone who has given
his or her life to something bigger
than oneself.”
-Joseph Campbell
Arrest of the Heart
Chapter 1
“That driver is one crazy son-of-a-bitch!” Jessie declared, watching the headlights on the car speeding down the dark, winding road. The idiot had to see the flashing red lights at the railroad junction or the lantern-bright beam on the engine of the freight train that would reach the crossing in a few minutes. Playing chicken with 200 tons of iron was not the act of a sane or sober human being. Street lights didn’t exist in this rural mountainous area, but the full moon shone like a beacon among millions of glittering stars.
She pressed the button on the mike attached to the clip on her shoulder. “Dispatch, Sergeant Taylor.” When there wasn’t an immediate response, Jessie called again. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Budget cuts only allowed one dispatcher manning the radio and phones.
“Sorry, Sergeant, Mrs. Schmidt had my ear.”
“Don’t tell me. Schatzie was barking and Ursula decided a prowler was skulking around her house.”
“You got it, another lonely widow with an over-active imagination.”
“I’m on Jaeger Hollow Road. A vehicle is shooting down Cool Spring Mountain like a bat out of hell and the two-forty freight out of Williamsport is also heading for the intersection.”
“You need backup?”
“Not yet. I’m too far away to do anything. If the driver doesn’t wake up and smell the roses, all I can do is pick up the pieces. I’ll keep you posted.”
Her heart pounded in anticipation of the tragedy about to happen. What a waste. People took life for granted. The driver must have a death wish. One moment you’re here and then you’re gone. Her fingers automatically pressed against the raised scar low on her right shoulder. Don’t go there, she told herself. Sighing deeply, Sergeant Jessie Taylor prepared to meet the foolish driver, hopefully alive.
The speedometer read eighty MPH. It had been years since he’d pulled a crazy stunt like this. He wasn’t the same rebellious eighteen-year-old who told his rich grandfather to go to hell and rode out of town on the motorcycle he’d rebuilt from second hand parts. The dense, forested area was deserted, law enforcement non-existent. If memory served him right, the cops were catching forty winks at Laurel Quarry. The night called for the Beach Boys, “Fun, Fun, Fun.” He pumped up the sound, trying to block out memories of his past, painful memories meant to stay buried. He’d vowed never to return to Laurel Heights, but a friend from another lifetime had cashed in a favor. Once he fulfilled his obligation, he’d go back to his real life and the friends he called brothers. They’d be there to support him, no matter what.
He ignored the flashing red warning lights up ahead and pressed the accelerator a little more.
Jessie gripped the steering wheel and her palms began to sweat, hoping the driver would change his mind. The train engineer must have seen the headlights on the vehicle heading for the tracks and sounded a long warning whistle.
The imbecile driver kept right on coming.
The moment of truth arrived a few minutes later when the night-race blue Corvette Stingray shot through the RR crossing like a speeding bullet, with seconds to spare. Jess briefly closed her eyes, grateful she didn’t have to scoop up a dead body.
“Dispatch, our hot-shot chicken driver made it through in one piece, but his luck just ran out. He took the left fork onto Laurel Heights Road and there’s no place to go but into town. Now, he’s mine.”
“Received. Good luck, Sergeant.”
Jessie hit the lights and siren and took off after the speeding vehicle. When her speedometer read sixty, she punched it a little more. “He’s either drunk, high, or out of his mind.”
The driver gave the dash of the powerful car an affectionate pat. “Hot damn!” He laughed and eased back on the accelerator, remembering the sharp curve up ahead on the two-lane road. “And with the radio blasting, goes cruising just as fast as she can now, and she'll have fun, fun, fun, till her daddy takes the T-bird away.”
His singing was interrupted by the flashing red and white lights reflected in his rear-view mirror. “Where did you come from?” He never figured one of Laurel Heights finest would be awake. The loud, pounding music had totally blocked out the siren. Only one person knew the real reason he was returning, and he was under strict orders not to reveal his background. Unfortunately, his irresponsible joy ride had just shot his cover story to hell, and he had to come up with a contingency plan, fast. The unopened bottle of Johnny Walker Blue sitting on the passenger seat drew his attention. He gripped it between his legs and quickly unscrewed the cap with his free hand and sprinkled some on his black T-shirt. “Such a waste,” he said and thought, what the hell, and took a good swig of his favorite drink.
“Dispatch, run this vanity plate; Lima, Ocean, Lima, Alpha. Vehicle looks to be a late model Corvette Stingray.”
“Listing comes back to Long and Barrows. Car reported stolen yesterday from their corporate headquarters in Union, PA.”
“Print out the paperwork on the look up.” It rattled her that their patrol cars didn’t have automatic license plate scanners and computers. The old standby, “not enough money in the budget,” excuse was a phrase she’d heard over and over again. Despite the lack of up-to-date crime fighting equipment, she’d never give up her eight-year-old Ford Explorer or go back to being a cop in a big city.
He may have been successful outrunning a speeding train, but he was no match for the three full-grown deer on the shoulder of the road that were mesmerized by his headlights. They darted out directly in front of the Stingray.
“Oh, shit!” He slammed on the brakes and the back end fishtailed, sending the sports car into a drainage ditch. The punch of the car coming to a standstill jolted him forward, and he wacked his forehead on the steering wheel. Then, it was lights out.
Jessie saw the same roving deer and slowed down. “Dispatch, Speedy Gonzalez just went into a ditch at Miller’s bend. I need back up, a wrecker, and the first aid squad.
“Headquarters received.”
She parked on the soft shoulder of the road and made her way down the slight incline sideways, so she wouldn’t slip on the loose chunks of shale and rocks underfoot. The overhead lights came on when she opened the driver’s side door and she was greeted by the Beach Boys chanting “Fun, Fun, Fun.” The male driver, who looked to be in his mid-thirties, was slumped over the steering wheel. His ink-black hair, caught in a queue at the base of his neck, brushed the edge of his black T-shirt. He appeared to be breathing steadily, and there wasn’t any sign of blood. She touched the underside of his jaw and felt a strong pulse.
“Sir, are you hurt?” Jess asked when he moaned and started to lift away from the steering wheel. She put a hand to each of his broad, athletic shoulders to help him sit up. “Try not to move
around too much. You’ve probably got a concussion. The ambulance is on its way.”
No sooner had he settled against the stone gray leather seat, than Jess immediately backed away, startled by the driver’s appearance. One eye was closed, but the other was covered by a black eye patch. This was the first time she’d come face to face with a real live pirate.
His long, slightly flared nose didn’t appear to have suffered any injuries. A reddish abrasion was already forming above his crescent-shaped black brows. Well-worn jeans hugged his taut thighs. His large hands were ring-less, the nails neat and well tended. If he wanted to look dark and forbidding, he was successful. The driver moaned again and Jess put a hand to his upper arm. “Sir, wait till the ambulance gets here before you move around too much.”
Linc wondered if he’d died and gone to heaven at the sound of a soft, feminine voice filled with concern. He blinked, then stared into a pair of beautiful eyes, the color of gleaming copper pennies. A female cop! The Laurel Heights Police Department had certainly changed. He had the greatest respect for women in law enforcement, but they tended to have a very curious nature. Golden freckles kissed her pale pink cheeks and adorable nose that she had better keep out of places it didn’t belong.
From his prolonged silence, she determined he was slightly dazed. She tapped his cheek with her fingers. “Sir, stay with me. What’s your name?”
A slow smile spread on his handsome face. “Blackbeard.”
Wiseass. The eye that opened was a stormy platinum gray. She only knew of one other person who had that unusual eye color, but he was dead.
Linc released his seatbelt and punched the button on the CD player. “I love the Beach Boys, but the beat is contrary to the pounding in my head.”
“Do you need assistance getting out of the vehicle?”
“If you will move your lovely body, I’ll give it a try.”
Jessie ignored the reference to her being female rather than a ranked police officer. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before. She went to back out, but hesitated at the sight of the bottle of booze on the passenger seat. His breath was lethal and his clothes reeked of alcohol. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Apparently, not enough, or I wouldn’t be in this mess.” Linc swung his feet out of the car and braced his hands on either side of the door opening to attempt a standing position. He didn’t anticipate the dizziness or the unstable shale underfoot. “Whoa,” he cried when his booted feet started to slip, and he threw himself against the attractive female body in front of him.
Jessie wasn’t prepared for the forceful slam of a powerful male body. The slanted ground added to their precarious footing. The momentum knocked the wind out of her and she landed on a pile of leaves and gravel with the drunk flat out on top of her.
It had been a while since he’d felt something so delicate, so feminine. She smelled fantastic. Then, for the second time that night, Blackbeard acted reckless and irresponsible. He dipped his head and captured the delectable mouth of the bewitching female in a slow, easy kiss. She tasted delicious, and he brushed his tongue lightly over her slightly open lips. He relaxed a little more to savor the firm breasts pressed against his chest. He was enjoying himself much too much, until he became aware of a leather gun belt that supported her sidearm.
He was up shit creek now. He’d just assaulted a cop!
Jess had barely gotten the air back in her lungs when his lips sealed hers in a breath-stealing kiss. His strong body pressed her deeper into the ground and she felt herself succumbing to his hot, persuasive mouth. There wouldn’t be any need to give Blackbeard a Breathalyzer test. The rich taste of Scotch lingered on his tongue and the surface of his firm lips.
The blaring siren from the approaching ambulance brought her back to reality. Adding to Jessie’s compromising entrapment, was the arrival of the backup unit she’d requested. Their combined headlights zeroed in on the car in the ditch and the couple in a hot embrace.
Dailey and Donatiello, known as the double D’s, had been partners for the past three years. They exited their vehicle and were shocked to find their sergeant locking lips with some guy. “Hey, Sarge, is that a new way to subdue a suspect?” Donatiello, the older of the two, teased, sliding down the rocky slope.
The hot kiss was overwhelming and she momentarily forgot where she was and who she was with. “You big oaf,” she cried, coming to her senses and shoved at the pirate’s strong shoulders with her hands. He hardly moved. “Donatiello, use your gym muscles and get this jerk off me!”
The officer grabbed Linc’s upper arms and drew him off of the delicious female body he was enjoying.
Jess managed to stand up and brushed dried leaves off her navy uniform pants.
“You are under arrest for assaulting a police officer, driving a stolen vehicle, drunk driving, speeding, and anything else I can come up with!” she angrily spat.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever been arrested for kissing a beautiful woman,” Linc teased, just before the officer cuffed his wrists and escorted him up the hill.
“Any serious injuries?” Dave, the first aid responder asked, opening the rear doors of the ambulance.
Jessie wanted to sneer a colorful remark, but remained professional. “He slammed his head on the steering wheel.”
Dailey guided their prisoner to the back of the first aid unit. “What about a sobriety test? He smells like he’s been taking a bath in booze.”
Procedure stated that anyone suspected of driving under the influence should be given a Breathalyzer test. She had first hand knowledge that he’d been drinking. “Not necessary.”
The double D’s frowned at one another, wondering why the change in procedure?
The first-aid responder determined the driver had sustained a mild concussion when he struck his head, but there didn’t appear to be any other injuries. When Dave suggested Linc go to the hospital, he adamantly begged off further medical care.
“Since he refuses additional treatment, take him into headquarters and fill out the paperwork. Make sure you read him his rights.”
“Ah, the end of a beautiful love affair,” Linc said, just before they assisted him into the back seat of the black and white. “Will I ever see you again?”
Jess braced her hand on the top of the squad car. “Unfortunately, at your arraignment Monday morning.”
“What about a phone call?” he asked with a devilish wink and inwardly winced from the bandage he sported across his forehead.
Jess ignored the flirty gesture and turned to Officer Donatiello. “He’ll get his phone call in the morning. I’ll wait for the wrecker.” She needed some time alone. This guy really pissed her off. A cool breeze kicked up, carrying the sweet scent of wild Honeysuckle. Normally she found the aroma soothing, but tonight it had no effect on her smoldering temper. She planned to secure the bottle of scotch as evidence and see what else she could find. Everything would be bagged, tagged, and properly recorded. There was an undercurrent of something here. He was too arrogant and sure of himself. She just didn’t trust him.
The ride into town was uneventful. Linc leaned his pounding head back and closed his eye, having second thoughts about his Oscar worthy performance. He’d backed himself into a corner and would have to maintain the rich, playboy persona while he was in Laurel Heights. But the lovely sergeant, she’d just been there. He had no control over the invisible force that had him lowering his head to taste her very kissable lips. The beams from the headlights had highlighted reddish gold hair that had been drawn through the opening of the navy, police-issue baseball cap. What kind of body was that starched uniform hiding? It really didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be in town long enough to find out.
He’d have no problem getting out of the charges he was facing, other than driving a stolen vehicle. Who the hell had reported the car stolen! Scott had loaned him the Stingray for this clandestine assignment. He would be expected to enlist the services of a lawyer, plus it wouldn’t hurt to have a co
uple of character references. Smiling, he had two very special witnesses in mind. Russell and Scott would be pissed, but that’s what friends were for.
When the patrol car reached the small town of Laurel Heights, a community in the Laurel Highlands of Pennsylvania, he closed his mind to the bitter memories that kept forcing their way into his conscious thought. Get in, do the job, get out.
The police department was housed in the stately town hall, the hub of the township established in the early1800’s. The city council was determined to keep the municipality quaint and unspoiled. There wasn’t a fast food restaurant in sight. Thick forested state parks fringed the community that numbered a little more than seven thousand residents. Laurel Lake, a five mile reservoir, fed by the Ohiopyle River, outlined the northern part of town.
“Watch your head, Officer Dailey cautioned, when they assisted Linc out of the patrol car and guided him toward the familiar rear entrance of the three-story stone structure. If it wasn’t for a cop and a judge, he might have become an expert at making license plates. After being fingerprinted and having his picture taken, Officer Dailey took him to a small windowless holding room. The dark, commercial-grade carpeting was threadbare in spots. A lone computer and a three-tier tray occupied an aged, green-metal desk. Linc tried not to cringe at the old electronics.
Having been on the job for nine years, Bill Dailey prided himself on reading a suspect, but something was off with this character. He was unable to produce any personal identification, so they could add driving without a license to the charges. The suspect’s clothes reeked from alcohol, but he hadn’t carried on like a drunk and disorderly person. Bill ran his fingers through his light brown hair before taking his reading glasses out of his pocket. It was time to find out who this character really was.
“Name?”
Linc sat in a hard-backed chair and kept a straight face. “Blackbeard.”