by Gregory Kay
“I’m fine. Don’t worry, we’ll be here. Thanks, Harry.”
Taking a moment to glare meaningfully at his prisoner, he said, “Oh, don’t thank me yet; I’m not done.”
With that, he walked out, dragging the still protesting Cliff with him, but toward the stairs, not the elevator. A moment later he heard Harry loudly and clearly enunciating, “Stop fighting me, Mr. Ashley! Watch out for the steps!” followed by a series of rapid, diminishing thumps as a body went tumbling down, accompanied by a series of yells and curses by Cliff.
“Did he...” Fiona began, and Luke simply nodded. He had no need to say that Harry had just covered his buddy’s ass by blaming at least some of the injuries on the stairs, because it was obvious she knew.
Fiona was still shaking and trembling, and Luke stood, lifting her with him, and carried her to the dresser. Setting her bare rear end on top, he began opening drawers until he found the one he wanted.
“I can do that,” she whispered, but he simply lifted her feet and slipped the white silk, French-cut panties on her and slid them up her legs before helping her down and pulling them the rest of the way up, running his fingers around inside the elastic waistband to make sure it wasn’t rolled under, wanting to make her comfortable. As soon as that was done, he retrieved another pair of jeans and helped her on with those as well, followed by replacing the torn blouse she was wearing with a fresh tee shirt.
“Nobody’s dressed me since I was a little girl.”
“Did you mind?”
“No, Luke, not with you. I didn’t mind.” She swallowed hard. “It felt kind of good, especially right now.”
Fiona had finally calmed down ten minutes later, by the time Harry returned to collect the evidence and photograph the crime scene and Fiona’s bruises. The Sheriff was with him, obviously hastily-dressed after having been routed out of bed, and Pete glared at his underling, not at all happy.
How much shit can this guy get into in one day?
“Damn it, Luke! What the hell did you do to that guy?”
“He fell down the steps,” Harry broke in, and Pete snorted derisively.
“Bullshit! I’ve heard that one too many times! Besides, what did he do then, come all the way back up here to bleed and spit teeth all over the floor?”
“Luke had to stop him; Cliff was trying to get his gun!”
Every eye turned toward Fiona in surprise, but she kept a perfectly straight, if somewhat bruised and tear-stained face, and continued, “Cliff is a black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and, even after Luke got him down, it was impossible to hold onto him. When he kicked the gun out of Luke’s hand, it fell right there,” She pointed, indicated a spot about three feet from the blood stain on the carpet, “and after he split Luke’s forehead open, he was grabbing for it and wouldn’t stop. He almost had his hand on it when Harry got here...didn’t he, Harry?”
Like most career cops, the trooper was used to thinking on his feet and lying like a son of a bitch when necessary.
“That’s right,” he said, barely missing a beat, “If I hadn’t got here when I did, he would have gotten it, too. I think he’s all coked up; he was so violent, it took both of us just to subdue him and get the cuffs on.”
“It is a damned good thing he got here,” Luke added, quickly jumping in, and pointing to the bloody gash in his head, “He already had me halfway stunned.”
Pete was experienced enough to know he was being fed a line of horse manure, but, as long as all the pieces fit, it wouldn’t do much for either morale or public relations to rock the boat. Besides, the suspect was a rapist and had attacked a VIP in his county, and had also assaulted Luke, who was one of his officers even if he had become a first-class pain in the ass lately, so he didn’t have a hell of a lot of sympathy for him. Plus, while Clifford Ashley might or might not be somebody in New York, he was nothing in Mason County, and thus not someone the Sheriff had to answer to.
“Alright. Ms. Pelligatti, I’ll have an officer assigned to your door for the rest of the night...”
“That won’t be necessary,” Luke told him, “She’s going home with me, where I can look after her.” Glancing at Fiona, he told her, “While Harry is taking pictures, I’ll get your things packed.”
Looking at Pete’s eyes opening in shock along with his mouth opening in protest, all she could think of to do was to nod and say, “Okay, Luke.”
“How did you know I’d come with you?” she asked, looking very small sitting cross-legged on his bed with Rosemary curled up and purring in her lap.
“How did you know I’d back you both times you lied for me?”
“One time,” she corrected him, “Only one time. The first time, when I said we were making love, that was the truth.”
“Yes, that was the truth.”
“Where will you be sleeping?”
“On the couch, I guess.” Luke certainly wished otherwise, but considering what Fiona had just been through, he wasn’t about to bring it up.
“You don’t have to,” she told him in a tiny, almost-inaudible voice, and he nodded.
“Then I won’t.”
“I really don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t blame you; neither do I. Not anymore.”
He came to her, and she moved the cat, stood, and held up her arms without a word. Luke took the same clothes off her he had put on her less than an hour before; then she returned the favor.
Their first bout of lovemaking was furious and hungry rather than tender; Luke from extended abstinence and Fiona confirming she was still alive. The second time was long and slow, as she wrapped her legs and arms around him like she’d never let him go.
When they were finally sated, he rolled over and she lay on top of him, pressed against his broad chest.
“It’s never been like that for me,” she said, toying with his chest hair while he stroked her back, trailing his fingertips up and down her spine from the back of her neck to her tail bone.
Lifting one hand, he used it to caress her hair, running his fingers through her curls.
“I hope that’s a compliment.”
“Oh, it is, believe me. It’s too good.”
He grinned that grin.
“I’ll have to admit I’m pretty happy with it myself right now.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Love each other?”
Now he’d had said it, and she couldn’t bring herself to deny it.
It shouldn’t be possible for it to happen this fast, but it has!
“That’s the problem! If we didn’t love each other – “
“Then I doubt we’d be doing this, since you don’t strike me as that kind of girl.”
Some distant part of her said, leave it to him to insert the perfect compliment! but her fear of the coming pain overrode it.
“You know what I mean! Oh, God, this is going to be so hard...”
“It doesn’t have to be, you know.”
“Yes it does, and you know it! You can’t leave here, and I can’t stay here, and I don’t know how in the hell a long-distance relationship will ever work – “
“And we can leave tomorrow for tomorrow. We still have today.”
“Oh, Luke, don’t you get it? It’s already tomorrow! Look, it’s just a couple of hours until dawn; it’s Friday morning now.”
“Then it’s not tomorrow; it’s today. Tomorrow never comes.”
“Do you think you can hold off tomorrow forever?”
He was looking straight into her eyes when he said, “I can damned sure try. Now, go to sleep; you’ve got to be worn out. Are you comfortable there?”
“Yes,” she whispered, “Are you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
She said, “Good,” then kissed his chest, lay her head down on it, and, to her surprise, was instantly asleep, listening to his heart steadily working through the hours of early dawn.
FRIDAY
CHAPTER 24
Luke awakened slowly, as the light from
the rising sun slanting in through the blinds brushed his face with gentle fingers. He refused to open his eyes at first, fearing that last night was only a dream, and only after his tentatively exploring hands confirmed the warm body still lying on top of his did he do so.
Fiona was still asleep, snoring softly, almost inaudibly through parted lips, her dark, curling hair spilling over his chest like rippling midnight water. In contrast, her skin glowed pale white in the morning light. Running his hands over it in wonder, softly so as not to waken her, he smiled.
“Thank you, God,” he whispered, “I haven’t felt like this in years”. Brushing a strand of hair from her face, he slowly shook his head. “And so beautiful! This is a good morning.”
Although he was speaking far to low to affect her sleep, she purred, murmured, and smiled as if she’d heard him subliminally, and shifted, snuggling down on him like Rosemary on the nearby pillow. Leaving his hands in place on her back, he glanced at the clock.
The red LED numbers read 7:50, almost eight. He frowned; there was something about 8:00 that was important, but he couldn’t seem to...
His eyes opened wide. Fiona had told him her boss ordered her to have her report in by that time every morning, or else...
Or else she’s fired!
He thought about that for a moment.
I want her to stay here; I need her to stay! If she has no job, she’ll have no reason to go back. All I have to do is just lie here and pretend to be asleep for a few more minutes...
And hurt her feelings and watch her cry when her dream shatters; all I have to do is hurt her instead of me.
Luke sighed, cursed himself for the biggest damned fool on the face of the Earth, and gently shook her.
“Fiona? Fiona?”
“Mmm...” she murmured, content with still being perfectly naked and perfectly warm and comfortable in her spot on top of him, and he shook her again, a little harder.
“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, but don’t you have a report due this morning?”
“Oh shit!” she exclaimed in a panic as her eyes instantly popped open to take in the morning light, and she rolled off to his right “What time is it?”
“Nine minutes till eight.”
“Oh no! It’s got to be there by eight or I’ll get fired! Where’s my computer?”
“Somewhere in the living room; here, use mine,” he told her reaching to his left side for his laptop off the night stand where he kept it in case of insomnia, and, before he could hand it to her, she desperately threw herself face-down across his lap to grab it and set it on the mattress. She stayed there, belly-down, supporting herself on his thighs and her elbows, opened the screen, and impatiently waited for the machine to come out of hibernation.
“Come on, come on...there! Don’t look at my password...sorry, I didn’t mean that; just habit. I’ve got nosy co-workers.”
“That’s perfectly alright,” he assured her, and she felt him playfully pat her rear before taking the cheeks of her pert, upturned bottom in both hands and spreading them, “I’ve got lots better things to look at right now than your password.”
“Very funny! Just don’t distract me until I’m done, okay?”
“Sure,” he lied. He left one hand in place while he put the other on the inside of her left thigh and slowly, deliciously dragged it upward until it reached its goal, and she felt him begin exploring even as she typed.
“Let’s see...the man in black at my hotel...Ooh, you’re making this really hard, you know that? His kidnapping and/or murder...ah, don’t do that! Interview with Alison, th-then Johnny...in the TNT...oh no, not there! Come on, Luke, this isn’t fair!...then the...the...please...”
She finally finished what she was certain must have been the most disjointed report ever written with two minutes to spare, and, as soon as he saw her hit send, he went to work in earnest, and, even as the clock struck eight, both her hands were tightly gripping fistfuls of blanket, her bare feet were drumming jerkily on the mattress, and she was lying with her left cheek on the sheets, her mouth wide open, sobbing with pleasure and hysterically begging him to let her up. He finally did, but only after a while, right at the point she thought she was literally going to die from joy.
“I need you!” she gasped, scrambling up and straddling his lap, “I need you so bad!”
“Then you have me.”
“How did you know I was in trouble?” Fiona asked him over bacon and eggs in the diner on Main Street. It felt really strange talking about it now; in the light of day, the events in the hotel room the night before seemed almost like a bad dream, except for the soreness, the bruise on the side of her neck, and the slight hoarseness in her voice where Cliff had hit her in the throat. Maybe she wanted to forget, or maybe what had happened afterward with Luke had wiped much of the terror and feeling of helplessness away. She didn’t know which, but she was glad it was gone. Still, there was her curiosity to be satisfied.
“Remember the suspect in the disappearance of the guy who tried to attack you?”
“Yes...well, I mean I remember his description.”
“He told me.”
She stopped, her fork still in her mouth, then she pulled it out and slowly lowered it to her plate as the implications began sinking in.
“Told you?” she mumbled around a mouthful of food. It might have been impolite, but she would be damned if she was going to wait to chew and swallow before asking.
“Yeah. That was the really weird part.”
Luke proceeded to explain the unbelievable chain of events, and Fiona could only shake her head.
“You’re serious? You said he communicated with you telepathically?”
“I guess,” he told her with a shrug, “His voice was almost a shout, like he was yelling right in my ear, but his lips never moved and I was the only one who heard it. Considering what he told me, I didn’t stop to try to figure it out, and, as it turned out, it’s a good thing I didn’t.”
Fiona certainly couldn’t deny that last part, and she was the one who reached across the table to hold hands.
“You let a murder suspect escape to come and rescue me, just because he told you I was in trouble?”
“Yes, and I’d do it again if I had to.” He gave her a grin and a reassuring squeeze. “You’re my number one priority.”
“Thank you. I...I love you.”
Her voice was little more than a desperate whisper, and he pulled her hand across the table and kissed her knuckles.
“You know I love you too, more than I could ever tell you.”
Fiona managed to keep her sigh and her tears on the inside. She didn’t know what she was going to do, so she decided to go back to the original subject.
“Did you know him?”
Luke blew out his breath.
“That’s another weird thing, now that you mention it. No, I don’t know him; I’ve never seen him before in my life, to the best of my knowledge, but he still looked familiar, like I should know him from somewhere...like I should know him very well, in fact.” Shaking his head, he stared at his plate for a moment, as if seeking the answer in the yellow streaks left by his over-easy eggs. “I think maybe he looks like someone I know, but I’ll be darned if I can figure out who that someone is...not that I plan on looking real hard, not in my official capacity, anyway.”
“Why not?”
His eyes met hers again.
“I owe him; he did me two favors. First, however he did it, he got rid of someone who was a menace to everyone, especially you, and second, he gave me the information that prevented you from being raped. I’d rather shake his hand than arrest him.” He shrugged slightly and took a bite of biscuit. “I guess that makes me a bad cop, but I can live with that.”
“No,” she was quick to assure him, “you’re not a bad cop; you’re just a wonderful man.”
He winked and told her, “Thanks. I’ll take that as a compliment,” which made her giggle and her blue eyes twinkle, and then she suddenly recalled
something she’d forgotten in the excitement.
“Talking about that voice in your head just reminded me of something. Remember, in the TNT when I shot at that guy?”
“How could I forget...wait a minute! Shot at him? I thought you blew the window out of their car on purpose, as a warning shot!”
“I missed,” she said sheepishly, half-expecting a reprimand on her marksmanship, but received a loving chuckle instead, “I was in such a hurry the sight caught on my jacket pocket and ripped the lining when I was drawing it, and it threw me off.
“Anyway, it was a voice in my head that made me do it!”
“What?”
“Yeah,” she nodded vigorously, “it was just like a frantic yell: ‘He is going to kill Luke! Shoot him!’ and it was like somebody goosed me or something; I had the pistol in my hand and fired before I even realized I was doing it, let alone made up my mind to do it.”
“So it’s not just me wheeling out a gun in response to what the voices in my head tell me?”
“No.”
Luke laughed.
“I think we’d better keep this to ourselves, or we might make a lot of politicians nervous as hell, if you know what I mean.”
It was her turn to laugh, and she was surprised to see him just watching her do it.
“What?”
“You. You’re already beautiful, but you’re even more beautiful when you laugh.” Reaching across the table, he brushed his fingers down her cheek, a look of pure awe on his face that made her feel like she was melting inside. “I love you, Fiona.”
“I love you too,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and kissing his palm.
The mood was broken by the jagged, jangling ring of her cell phone from inside her purse, and she muttered “Shit!” and looked askance at Luke.
“Do you mind?”