“What is it, Guy?”
“These pictures of Sam,” I say quietly, disbelieving. I look up at Conner but all I’m seeing is red. My voice grows harder as I say, “These were taken from inside Samantha’s apartment!”
“Inside? Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” I growl at him. “That asshole’s been inside her apartment, Dave! Watching her dress! Taking pictures of her in the shower!” I toss the pics back onto the seat in disgust and frustration and walk away, running both hands through my hair as I try to calm down. I can’t believe it. This fucking dirtbag has been inside Samantha’s apartment God knows how many times. Inside the apartment while she was there! Fuck, for all I know, he was in there while Sam and I were together. How has this fucker gotten past me? Past all of our attempts to keep her safe? We had the locks changed before she left the hospital and I have been with her every night since!
I take a deep breath, and I’m aware of the blue and white pulling up and Conner talking to the uniform but, my mind is elsewhere as I stare off in the direction of Samantha’s apartment. And I frown as I wonder idly what Echols’ vehicle is doing parked just one block away.
“Fuck!”
“What is it?” Conner says as I whirl around and meet his concerned gaze.
“He’s there! Right now, at Sam’s apartment,” I shout as I take off for the cruiser. I start her up as Conner hops inside and I flip on the lights and sirens.
“What makes you think he’s there, Guy?” Conner insists as I make another U-turn into traffic and head off towards Sam’s place.
“I just know!” I’m aware that sounds irrational but, I don’t have time to explain to him that I just feel in my gut that Sam needs me right now. Luckily, he trusts my instincts and says nothing more.
I screech into the parking lot and throw the cruiser into park, and as we jump out and run for the building, I’m vaguely aware of the fact that Mr. Martin has jumped out of his sedan and is hot on our heels. Once inside, I don’t stop to address the shocked expressions of the doorman and the security guard. I don’t wait for the elevator either; I draw my gun and head straight for the stairs and Conner and Martin follow after me.
Running on pure adrenaline and fear, I take the stairs three at a time, and I am up the nine flights and outside her door in under a minute. I try the knob but it’s firmly locked. How the hell did this fucker get inside? I knock loudly as the others catch up with me. “Sam? It’s Josh, let me in,” I shout. From inside, we all hear Samantha scream, followed by breaking glass and crashing furniture … the sounds of a struggle, and my adrenaline spikes. I’m done fucking around.
Taking a step back, I aim my Sig at the lock on the door and fire off two rounds into it. The lock blows apart instantly and I haul off and kick the door open. I burst in gun raised, and stare into the cold, vacant eyes of Timothy Echols.
“Seattle PD! Let her go Echols,” I yell at him. “It’s over! There’s no way you’re getting out of here.”
Echols is holding Samantha in front of him, like a shield and I can see that she’s been through hell. Her dress is torn and I see drops of blood on the fabric. There’s a small trickle of blood on her lip and the side of her face is red from where he’s hit her. The living room is in total disarray and it looks like it’s been one heck of a fight. There is a cut on Echols’ forehead that I’m guessing came from the broken glass I see everywhere, and blood dripping down into his left eye.
The fucker looks terrified at being caught and I can see in his eyes that he’s about to make a run for it. Suddenly, everything seems to happen all at once and in slow motion. Echols pushes Samantha away from him, throwing her to his right, towards the couch and she lands on top of the shattered glass sculpture that used to sit on the fireplace mantle. Echols turns and runs to the left. He knows that he can’t get past Conner and me for the door so, instead he tries to make a break for the balcony doors in the dining room, but Conner is ready for him. He stops Echols before he can even get to the table and I can see that Mr. Martin has rushed to Sam’s side, which leaves me free to take care of the trash.
I holster my gun as Conner grabs the scumbag from behind and drags him away from the table. And as Echols spins around, I haul off and deliver a sound right hook to his jaw. That felt good, but I’m just getting started. I grab hold of the lapels on the worn and tattered Army jacket he’s wearing snarl at him, “I am going to fucking kill you!” His eyes widen as he looks at me and I take a small fraction of pleasure in the knowledge that he’s afraid. You should be afraid, you weak son of a bitch!
Fueled by the thoughts of what he intended to do to Samantha, I open up and let Echols have it. With the first punch I knock his ass to the floor and then follow him down. I start to swing, raining a torrent of powerful blows to his face. It feels so good to let go and unleash on this asshole. For a few precious moments, I allow the strict restraint that I normally try to keep on my temper to float away, and I let the anger course through me, flowing unchecked through my veins and filling every muscle as my fists connect with his face over and over again. I relish the sound that my fists produce when they make contact with his jaw. The sight of the blood as my punches break his skin. Soon, it’s as if there’s only the two of us in the room, and I am in some sort of anger induced trance.
“Guy, that’s enough. Stop now!” Conner’s voice sounds slightly panicked. I ignore him and continue in my task.
Suddenly I feel lots of hands on me, attempting to pull me off of Echols. “Damn it, Pierce, you’re going to kill him,” Conner yells. “Stop!”
“Joshua, stop it, please!” Samantha’s voice cuts though the rage and I instantly cease, allowing Conner and Martin to pull me off the scum.
From my position on the floor, I venture an anxious glance up at Samantha and she is standing near the kitchen, watching the action in tears. Oh, shit. Did I scare her? I rise slowly and take a tentative step toward her, praying that she’s not afraid of me.
“Josh!”
She rushes into my arms without hesitation and I wrap them around her, holding her close to me as I let out a sigh of relief. She sobs openly as I hold her tightly. “It’s all right, baby,” I whisper as I hold her. “You’re safe now, Sam.”
I hear Conner on the phone calling for an ambulance and a CSU and Martin says softly, “Miss Colby, should I call your brother for you?” Sam is much too hysterical to respond and I glance at Martin and nod my head. He returns the gesture and a second later, I hear him on the phone to Lucas Colby.
Sam is inconsolable and a horrible thought suddenly occurs to me. Looking down at her I take her tear-stained face in my hands. “Sam? Hey … baby, look at me,” I tell her softly, and she looks up at me with big tear-filled eyes. “Did he hurt you? Did he … ,” My voice catches in my throat at the thought, and I force myself to push past it. “Did he rape you?”
“No. He was trying to but, I fought him,” she sobs. “I fought him so hard, Josh; I tried to get away…”
“I know, baby. I know. You did so good, Sam.” She dissolves into sobs again and her knees threaten to give out on her. Gently, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her over to the other end of the couch where there’s no glass and I sit, cradling her in my lap, while she cries uncontrollably, clinging to me like a scared little kitten. Thank you, God! Tightening my arms around her, I offer up a silent prayer of thanks for her safety. Eyes closed, I kiss the top of her head and inhale deeply, not giving a fuck who’s around to see it. I’m just so thankful that she’s all right.
I’m not sure how long I sit and just let her cry. I know that we have to get a statement from her but, right now, she’s much too emotional and I simply don’t want to let her go. I watch as the medics come in, followed by a uniform and the evidence techs, and finally, Lieutenant Marcos. Fuck!
I’m sitting here with Samantha still sobbing on my lap and I know that I am so busted. Marcos stands and gapes at the sight, eyebrows raised in surprise. Then a deep scowl take
s over and he looks royally pissed. He stands back and takes in the scene around the apartment and I know that I have to make an effort to let him know that I haven’t completely fucked this case up.
“Sam,” I say softly. “Baby, I have to step away for a minute and talk to my supervisor, okay?” She looks up at me, her eyes imploring me not to leave her. Shit. “I’ll be right over there by the kitchen; you can see me the whole time. Okay?” Finally, she nods, tearfully, and I gently lift her and set her on the couch and stand up.
Taking a deep breath, I step over to where Marcos stands with Conner and, before I can say a word, he asks, “What happened to the suspect?” His voice is gruff and he’s looking solely at me.
I hesitate a beat and then answer, looking him directly in the eye. “He resisted arrest.”
Marcos looks to Conner for corroboration and Dave nods his head in agreement. “He made a run for it.” Marcos seems satisfied with that answer and he moves on.
“I’ve informed Skinner that we have him in custody. He’s on the phone to the Mayor now.” Conner and I both nod at this information and I frown as I notice Marcos glance over my shoulder at Samantha. “How is she?” he asks.
“Not good,” I say, shaking my head. “She’s a bit of a basket case right now.”
“And how do you fit into this, Pierce?” he asks, scowling at me. “You want to explain to me what I saw when I walked in just now? No. Save it! I want to see you in my office as soon as you get back to the station,” he says to me, and I nod once more. “But for now … you might want to get back to her; she seems … frightened by the evidence tech.”
I look back at Sam and she is watching me with barely contained desperation, tears flowing down her cheeks as one of the female techs attempts to talk to her. I sigh as I walk into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, then head back over to her. Sitting down on the marble table in front of her, I open up the bottle and hand it to her.
“Take a sip, baby,” I say softly, and, with trembling hands, she does as she’s told. “Sam, the evidence techs need to snap a few pictures of you, okay?” She looks at me and shakes her head as more tears fall. “Samantha, we have to. You want to put this creep behind bars for a long time, right?”
“Please,” she sobs, and my heart aches.
“No one will ever see these pictures but the cops and the lawyers, Sam. But it has to be done, baby. I’m sorry.” I nod at the technician as I stand, getting out of her way, and she gets to work. I stay by Sam’s side the whole time and I watch as the paramedics finally get Echols to his feet. Conner puts the cuffs on him and hands him off to the uniform.
“Get that piece of shit out of here,” I growl at him.
“And make sure you read him his rights,” Conner adds. “He is not walking on a technicality!”
“You have the right to remain silent,” the patrol officer begins as he leads Echols out of the apartment and down the hall.
“Want us to take a look at those hands, Detective?” one of the medics asks me, and I look down at my battered knuckles.
“I’m fine,” I shake my head, turning back to Samantha.
“Miss Colby, we’re going to need the clothes you’re wearing as evidence,” the female tech says to Sam. “Is there somewhere you and I can go so that you can change and I can bag your clothing?”
Samantha looks up at me with big, scared eyes and I know what she’s silently asking. I look over at Lieutenant Marcos, who’s standing close by watching everything, and he shakes his head at me. “You and Conner just said you didn’t want this guy walking on a technicality,” he whispers harshly. “If this relationship fucks up this case in any way, it will be your ass, Pierce!”
“Can I just go with them to the other room, Lieu?” I ask, him. “Just to keep her calm. The tech will do everything. I’ll just be moral support.”
“No!”
I run a hand through my hair and look down at Sam, still sitting on the couch as the tech waits patiently. I take a seat on the marble table in front of her again and lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees and clasp my hands together as I look her in the eye.
“Sam … you need to go into the bedroom with the evidence tech and change your clothes.” She starts to cry softly again, burying her face in her hands. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Hey,” I say quietly as I reach up and take her hands, gently pulling them away from her face. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can put this dirtbag away, baby. Come on … go with the technician. I will be right out here.” Samantha gets to her feet a bit unsteadily, then turns and slowly walks toward the bedroom as the technician follows after her.
“Do you realize that if this thing goes to trial and the defense somehow finds out about whatever has been going on between you two, the whole case could go down the fucking toilet?” Marcos snarls at me, and I nod silently, feeling helpless and angry. “I want you to stay away from her until we know which way this case is going to go. Do you understand?” I feel my jaw clench as I nod again, still saying nothing.
Several minutes later, the evidence technician returns, followed by Samantha. She’s changed into a burgundy colored pair of sweats, but she still looks shell-shocked as she makes her way back over to the couch and sits back down.
“Miss Colby,” Lieutenant Marcos says, “you might want to think about getting checked out at the hospital, just as a precaution. That’s your choice. But, we will need to get a statement from you. You can come down to the station or we can take it right here if you’d like.”
Samantha says nothing and she appears not to have heard a word Marcos has said. She seems to be despondent and I’m more than a little worried about her. “Sam?” I softly ask, taking her hand. She looks up at me and her usually bright green eyes look clouded and vacant.
“I don’t want to go to the police station,” she says quietly. Unemotionally. “And I’ll only give my statement to you.”
I look up at Marcos from my seated position on the marble table and he rolls his eyes slightly, shaking his head at me.
“That’s fine,” Marcos says, and I know what he’s thinking. Who the hell is he to tell Samantha Colby that she can’t give her statement to the officer of her choice. “Come see me as soon as you get back to the station,” he reminds me. Then he turns and leaves, following the CSU technicians out.
Conner retrieves a clipboard and some witness statement forms from the car, and we sit and take a very tearful statement from Samantha. And since everyone’s finally gone but Conner and me, I sit beside her and hold her hand as she relieves the entire horrifying ordeal, and Conner writes her statement out for her since she’s too upset to do so. When she’s finished, I take her into my arms and hold her close for several minutes. After Conner reads the statement back to her to make sure it’s correct, Samantha signs it and I witness it. Then she falls into my arms again.
“Hello, I’m Herman Nelson, the building manager.” The voice comes from a round, middle-aged man with a really bad toupee who’s peeking in the doorway along with the building’s security guard.
“Mr. Nelson,” I speak up, lightly rubbing Sam’s back with my hand, “I apologize about your door.”
“Oh, no no no, Detective, please don’t worry about the door,” he insists. “That can be fixed. Our chief concern is Miss Colby’s safety, of course.”
“Samantha!” Lucas Colby rushes in, looking around wildly. When his eyes light on Sam, the relief on his face is evident. I stand and step aside discretely as he rushes to his sister’s side. As I stand watching them, Sam looks up a couple of times making eye contact with me. She tries to concentrate on what her brother is saying, but I can tell that all she really wants is to be back in my arms. And that is all I want too – to fold her into my arms and hold her close and never let her go!
“I’m sure the city would be more than happy to pay for replacing the door,” I hear Conner say. “After all, we did damage it.”
�
�No, that won’t be necessary,” Nelson says.
“I will pay for whatever repairs are needed,” Lucas Colby says, standing up and joining the conversation.
“Oh, we would not dream of it, Mr. Colby,” Nelson says. “I only mention the door because I have been on the phone trying to reach the company to get the repairs done. They’ve informed me that it may take 24 hours or longer to get to us so … in the meantime, the apartment will have to be boarded up to be secured.”
“That’s not a problem, Samantha you’ll come home with me,” Lucas says to Sam, then he turns back to the building manager. My eyes lock with Sam’s and I get the feeling she wants to protest. God knows I want to protest! I look back at Lucas and Nelson and Conner, and while the three of them are busy arguing over who should pay for the damaged door, I step over to Sam and sit down beside her on the couch and take her hand, giving it a little squeeze.
“How are you doing?” I ask softly, looking into her sorrowful eyes. She blinks at my question and shrugs at me, silently. With my thumb, I wipe away a stray tear as it travels slowly down her cheek. At least she appears to have calmed down quite a bit. “So … you’re going to spend the night at your brother’s?” I ask quietly, and she glances over at Lucas.
She looks at me and shrugs again. “I guess so,” she says, her voice barely audible. I nod slightly at her response and swallow nervously. Marcos just ordered me to stay away. Fuck that! “I want you to come home with me,” I say, looking into her eyes.
Her face brightens a little. “You do?”
“Yes. Only … I have to go back to the station for a while and take care of a few things. Make sure this asshole stays behind bars. I don’t want you alone in the meantime,” I tell her.
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 46