Captured Again

by L. L. Akers

  Gabby pulled in and parked in her normal spot, glad it was close to the door. She didn’t want to waste any more time than she had to. Not only did she have groceries in the truck, but Jake was waiting, and she wanted to spend every minute she could with him.

  She pulled on the door and stepped in, stopping just inside for a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark warehouse. Once they were adjusted, she headed toward her office. It’d be faster to call Jerry from there since he was upstairs. She rounded the corner and nearly collided with Tom. She threw her hands up to soften their collision, and he walked right into them.

  “Oh, Tom... I’m sorry,” Gabby said and laughed. “I was in a hurry.”

  She dropped her hands from his chest and backed up a few steps. “I’m glad I ran into you...” She laughed again at her joke, expecting Tom to laugh too, but he didn’t. Instead, his face was tight—sullen. He didn’t back up at all, but rather took a step forward and stood looking down at Gabby, crossing his arms against his chest.

  What’s his problem? Gabby thought. Clearly, he’s pissed off at somebody. She didn’t want or need to be in the middle of any work drama between Tom and whoever he was mad at.

  She cleared her throat and started again. “Did you guys need something? My husband said you called the house.”

  “Yeah. What’s that about? I thought your husband was dead,” he growled while glaring down at her.

  His remark stung, waking her up to the reality of how off the wall and bizarre this must all seem to the people she worked with. On the phone earlier, Jerry had talked as though they’d all known Jake was alive all along—and known she’d been delusional and half out of her mind. Someone must have forgotten to tell the new guy.

  Gabby felt the blush color her cheeks. She turned her face down and to the side quickly, trying to cover the mark of her embarrassment with her hair. Looking at her feet and fiddling with her bag, she answered him. “Yeah. Actually, no. He’s not. Dead, that is.”

  She quickly stepped around him and went into her office, hoping he’d just walk away. She turned on her light, intending to call Jerry to see what they needed, and moved toward her desk. She gasped. On her desk was a bouquet of flowers. Pretty purple Iris blooms popped out from the arrangement, surrounded by long green stems and yellow daisies—her favorite.

  Her hand went to her mouth, a finger touching her lips. She smiled. These were probably from all the guys—and Jerry. This is why Tom had called, to let her know she had flowers. Jerry probably asked him to do it so she and Jake could enjoy them.

  She plucked out the card and read it:

  ~ Marked by the dragonfly ~

  Gabby dropped the card and shook her head, backing away from the flowers. She jumped and gave out a little scream when her retreat was stopped by a warm body. She spun around to again find herself face to face with Tom, who’d obviously followed her into her office.

  “Whoa. Sorry, again,” Gabby blurted out as she backed away with raised hands. “Tom, do you know who put these flowers here?” she asked, gesturing to the flowers and looking again, just to be sure they really were there. She was trying to appear calm, but she was feeling that fluttery feeling again, as though she wasn’t sure she could believe what her eyes were showing her. She looked back at Tom to see if he too saw the flowers. His eyes were still on her.

  “Tom! Did you hear me?” Gabby repeated, much louder. She glanced out her window overlooking the warehouse floor, unsure what she was looking for... or whom.

  “The Iris is the French national flower,” Tom answered slowly. He walked over to the flowers, plucking one out and bringing it to his nose. He closed his eyes and inhaled.

  “My uncle used to buy Irises for his beautiful wife—until she divorced him. Some young whore ruined his marriage. He killed himself.” Tom’s shoulders drooped and his spine seemed to bow. He continued to stare at the flower.

  Gabby saw him tremble and reached to comfort him, as she would anyone who had suffered a loss. “Tom, I’m so sorry... Was this recent?” she asked as she put her hand on his shoulder, forgetting for a moment her own shock of the words written on the card.

  “You should know,” he answered, his tone abruptly changing from sad to cold enough to freeze water. He turned his face toward Gabby and glared down at her, his nostrils flaring. She saw a vein throbbing in his neck.

  Gabby snatched her hand off his shoulder and backed up, bumping into the glass window behind her. She threw a glance over her shoulder to see if there was anyone on the floor watching—Tom had a crazed look about him—but everyone was busy working, not looking her way. From near crying to cold and hateful in three seconds. This guy’s not stable, Gabby thought. He and his uncle must have been very close, maybe like a father. Did he request time off... grievance pay? Why should I know?

  Tom stomped out of her office, accidently knocking her shoulder on his way past. Or was it accidental? Gabby thought.

  She slammed her door shut and grabbed her phone, keeping an eye on the window just in case he came back. Her hand shook as she punched Jerry’s extension, praying he was in his office.

  “Gabby! What are you doing here?” Jerry answered cheerily. “I gave you the rest of the week off. Go home!”

  Gabby cleared her throat. “Okay. I will. But Jerry... did you know Tom’s uncle died?” Gabby whispered.

  “Tom? The new guy? No... no, I didn’t. He didn’t mention it,” Jerry answered. “You want me to handle picking up a card and passing it around or something?”

  Gabby usually picked up cards for the guys for all occasions. Everyone would sign them and sometimes write short condolences if the event was a death in the family.

  “Yeah... could you?” Gabby answered, confused by Tom’s outburst. “He implied that I should know—that his uncle died. Can you talk to him and fill him in on what’s been going on with me lately? He seems a little in the dark.”

  “Oh crap, Gabby. You know, I don’t think I ever did tell him. He came on board after the accident. By the time he started here, we all were already in the loop. Everyone kept it quiet. Your sisters asked us to. It never occurred to me to tell Tom. Sorry ‘bout that.”

  “No, no... it’s okay, Jerry. Not a problem,” Gabby assured him. “Also, do you know who gave me these flowers in my office?”

  She hoped he would say he and the guys. She held her breath, waiting for his answer, feeling beads of sweat form on her lip.

  “No. I don’t know anything about any flowers. I have no idea. Maybe they guys did it and just forgot to tell me though,” Jerry answered and chuckled. “Take ‘em home! Get outta here, Gabby. Spend some time with Jake. And tell him I said no excuses, I’ll be seeing him on the basketball court soon.”

  Gabby let out the breath she was holding and felt her body go cold. The note—there was only one person outside of Jake and her family that knew about her tattoo.

  “I’ll tell him, Jerry... Thanks.”

  Gabby hung up the phone and looked at the note still lying on the floor. She stepped far away from it, as if it could reach up and bite her, and left her office, leaving the flowers behind too. She carefully stepped around the corner toward the door to avoid any more run-ins with Tom. Once she saw a clear path, she practically ran for the exit. She just wanted to get home to Jake before she fell to pieces.

  CHAPTER 28

  “Hey, it’s me, Dusty. I’ve got great news. Call me back.”

  Dusty paced the floor in his tiny apartment, anxious to talk to Emma. He’d spoken to the professor about her, who was more than happy to provide a recommendation for Emma’s PTI. She’d let Dusty read it before sealing the envelope and Dusty felt sure it would have a lot of weight with the judge. The professor had not only given Emma a good recommendation, she’d stated Emma was one of the best students she’d been honored to teach in her twenty-plus years’ tenure at the university. She’d also mentioned to Dusty she personally knew most of the judges in their circuit and maintained a friendly yet professional r
elationship with them all.

  Dusty had asked the professor to give it directly to him so he could add it to his own recommendation, as the arresting officer as well as her friend. Now if Emma could get one more from her boss—preferably not Rick—she’d be all set to get into the program and hopefully avoid fines and a criminal record.

  He raked his hands through his hair. He’d already called Emma a few times and sent one text. Now he’d left a message. How long should he wait for her to call? Would it be lame to just drive over there? he thought. Maybe her phone’s off... or maybe it’s dead. He’d be seeing her in class again tomorrow, but he really didn’t want to wait. That and he’d really wanted to ask her out again. He should’ve asked when he dropped her off at her car the evening before and realized his mistake in class today. But when the bell rang, the professor had called him over and Emma had headed out in a hurry. He assumed she was going straight to work because she didn’t wait for him, or maybe she thought he was in trouble.

  Dusty laughed at that thought. She was going to be so surprised. She hadn’t mentioned her upcoming court date, but he knew she was nervous.

  Now here he was, wasting an evening he could be spending with her. He looked at his watch: nine thirty. Maybe it’s too late. Damn, she probably just went to bed early.

  He blew out a frustrated breath and dropped down in his recliner, picking up the remote. He mindlessly cruised through the channels, not stopping on any one, before he gave up and turned the TV off again. He leaned back. Maybe I’ll just go to sleep myself. He threw one arm over his eyes, stretching the other far behind him.

  A full minute passed while thoughts of Emma flew through his mind. Balls! Who am I kidding? I can’t sleep. I want to see her. The hell with this... I’m going over there.

  He jumped up, slamming the recliner footrest down in his rush, and hurried into the bathroom. He brushed his teeth and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to neaten it up somewhat, and noticed a small stain on his shirt while he looked in the mirror. He pulled it over his head and tossed it to the floor as he rushed to his closet and chose another T-shirt, pulling it on as he walked back toward the kitchen.

  He sniffed at his pits, checking to be sure he didn’t stink. I should take a shower. Nope, not wasting any more time. Weak, brother. You got it bad, he thought as he glanced around for his keys. There they are. He grabbed them, feeling the weight and realizing they were to his patrol car. His truck was at the station. Whatever. If she goes out with me, she can follow me back here to drop off the car, and we’ll just drive hers. He hurried out the door, not wanting to waste another minute that he could be spending with Emma and not wanting to give his brain a chance to change his heart’s mind.

  Dusty pulled into Emma’s apartment complex and slid his patrol car into the empty spot beside her car. His car was pointed directly into her windows. Before he had a chance to turn the car, or the lights, off, his heart nearly stopped.

  It was dark outside, but his lights shining into her windows revealed two shadows, assumingly, sitting on the couch facing a TV. He could see the flicker of the television set in front of them. One of the shadows was wearing a baseball cap and leaned in very close to what he clearly recognized as Emma’s shadow, sitting down. He saw her delicate hand reach out and pat the baseball cap, friendly like.

  Dusty felt his heart drop and his temperature rise.

  “What the—” he muttered to himself. Then he saw Emma stand up and the TV went out. He quickly killed his lights. He didn’t want her to see him spying. Am I spying? First stalking her at the coffee-internet shop, now this? I have to go. The last thing he needed was for Emma to catch him out here and accuse him of being a stalker while she had company—male company—and get him in trouble at work.

  He snatched up the two envelopes, one from the professor and one from him, and slapped them hard against the dash. “Dammit, I was just trying to help you, Emma,” he said out loud, his voice breaking. But it was more than trying to help her. He couldn’t deny it to himself. He wanted Emma... wanted her bad since the night he’d arrested her. Apparently, she doesn’t want me though, or she wouldn’t be with someone else tonight, he thought. He’d bet that was Rick wearing the ball cap. Emma had never mentioned another guy. But would she? It was obvious to him that Rick wasn’t happy seeing him with Emma. He wanted her. I guess he has her.

  His heart was pounding in his chest. He slammed an open fist against the steering wheel. I should have punched him in the face when I had a chance, he thought. He had to leave. Now. Before the anger came up to chase away the hurt. He threw the car in reverse and backed up, his tires skidding and smoke screaming from the patrol car.

  Whatever, Emma, he thought. He blew out his breath and tried to shake it off. He had to have his head straight while he was in his patrol car. He couldn’t be out riding around off duty and hotheaded.

  He drove straight home.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Jake?” Gabby yelled out as soon as she walked through the door. “Jake, where are you?”

  “In here, Gabby,” he answered from the bedroom. “You need some help carrying in the groceries?” Jake was still stretched out on the bed, his leg resting on a stack of pillows.

  “No,” Gabby answered, her voice sounding upset. “Listen, Jake. I want to go. I want to leave here. Right now. Get up... let’s go.” She was still talking as she turned the corner into the bedroom, and the second she saw Jake, she started to shake again.

  Jake sat up and reached for her. “Gabby, calm down. What’s wrong?”

  She sat beside him on the bed. “I don’t know. It’s crazy. You’ll think I’m crazy... Let’s just take a quick trip, just the two of us. Jerry gave me the rest of the week off. Let’s go somewhere... anywhere away from here. Hurry, it’s already starting to get dark outside.”

  “Baby, you’re shaking. What happened? Tell me,” Jake pleaded. He wrapped his arms around Gabby, pulling her close. “I won’t think you’re crazy. Trust me.”

  Gabby tried to make sense of all the random things that had happened, swirling around in her mind; she’d been trying all the way home. But what she came up with was too bizarre even for her to believe. Maybe I am crazy? she thought.

  “Gabby... You’re not talking,” Jake said as he gently poked her, trying to curb the seriousness. “I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong, girl,” Jake prompted again.

  She sighed. “Jake, I’m sorry. There have just been a few weird things happen that have freaked me out. I don’t feel safe here right now. It’s just a feeling. Can’t we just go for a few days and take a break from... here?” she pleaded.

  Jake reached up and stroked her hair. “I’ll make you an offer. We’ll go... maybe a short trip to the mountains or even the beach. But I don’t want to blindly run away from something. You need to tell me what you’re running from, and then we’ll go. Deal?”

  “Okay.”

  Gabby jumped up and reached under the bed for their suitcase. Turning to the closet, she jerked shirts off their hangers, snatching quickly without bothering to take any time in choosing, and was stuffing the suitcase—

  “Whoa, Gabby! Stop. Tell me first. Then we’ll pick a place and pack for it. Slow down, girl,” Jake said.

  She stopped and turned back to Jake, her chin quivering. I. Will. Not. Cry. Dammit.

  “Jake, it’s going to sound bad,” she said while shaking her head. “I think he’s back. And he’s messing with me, trying to make everyone think I’m crazy,” she blurted out, wringing her hands. She looked down, afraid to meet Jake’s eyes.

  She continued before she lost her nerve. “I had a panic attack when I thought someone was in the house last week. It was just a feeling, but I swear I really think they were here. I locked myself in the laundry room, and Emma brought someone out here to check. But apparently, I freaked out and panicked for nothing. There was no one here. But then I found a tiny dragonfly in a bouquet of flowers I’d bought for my office. I know it wasn’t
there when I bought it. I would’ve seen it! And right after that, there was a dead—red—dragonfly on the dash of your truck.”

  She paused for his reaction. She looked up at him, but he just sat there, waiting. His face didn’t give anything away. He thinks I’ve lost it. She grabbed the post of the bed, leaning her weight onto it and looking at the floor again.

  “I know, Jake. All that seems random to you, but I don’t think so. Today, when I dropped by the office, someone had put flowers in my office. I called Jerry, but he didn’t know anything about them. The card said ‘marked by the dragonfly.’ Who would write something like that? Outside of my family and you, there’s only one person I can think of that knows about my tattoo...”

  She sucked in a deep breath and looked at the ceiling, trying to maintain calm. She returned her eyes to Jake, hoping she didn’t see him looking back at her with anything other than understanding. Inside she was terrified; it had to be him, but she couldn’t say that to Jake. Look at the disaster that followed the last time she’d freaked out over thinking she saw the enemy. And why would he come back after all these years? He’d left them alone since Gabby’s attempted suicide—and after a strongly worded conversation from her usually humble husband. Why now?

  She loudly exhaled her breath.

  Jake cleared his throat. “Where’s the card, Gabby?” he asked, looking skeptical.

  “I dropped it on my office floor. It scared me... but it’s there, Jake. Really. You can call Jerry and tell him to go look. The flowers are there too. I left it all and came straight home,” Gabby said, her voice sounding more confident. She had proof now. She’d just left it there.

  She tensed as she waited for Jake to speak.

  Jake hobbled off the bed, grabbing the other foot post for support. He shrugged his shoulders. “Let’s go, then. We’ll head to the beach. I can track down who sent the flowers just as easily from somewhere else. If you wanna go, we’ll go. I can use a vacation with my wife.”