The doctor gasped, his eyes dilating to the point of black.
“How’s it feel now?” Kent asked, leaning his body weight forward, keeping the knife up to the hilt in the killer’s abdomen. That wasn’t enough. Rodden’s knees weakened. Kent let the man slump to the floor as he got his belt ready for its next task.
He wrapped the leather around Rodden’s neck until it was choking him, then cinched it down, keeping the strap taut. The doctor clawed at the belt as he was being asphyxiated.
“See? Now this is flair,” Kent said. “I’m not even touching you.”
Even though Rodden couldn’t speak, Kent liked to think that the killer was impressed.
* * *
Nicole couldn’t believe that she was begging Kent to let Rodden go. “Kent, he’ll get the lethal injection for this. Let up.”
“I broke in without a warrant,” Kent explained as he strained to keep the tension up as Rodden fought for his life. “He could get away on a technicality.”
“No,” Nicole said. “You had exigent circumstances.”
“Which may or may not play in court,” Kent said, and he wasn’t wrong. But this, this felt even more wrong.
“Remember that look you didn’t want me to have?” Nicole challenged. “Well you are about two seconds away from it.”
Nicole would never know if she’d broken through to the profiler, as Ruben shouted from above them. “Kent, let him go!”
Her partner jumped down, then drew his gun. “Now, Kent.”
The profiler let go of the belt and put his hands up. “He’s all yours.”
While Ruben loosened the belt and started CPR, Kent came over and unlocked Nicole’s cell.
He smoothed her hair back. Such a tender gesture from a man who had just been choking a serial killer. “How are you feeling?”
“Maggoty.” Nicole said, rubbing her belly. Her sympathy for Rodden dissipated as she realized that wasn’t a joke.
Yvent jumped down, as well. He went over to the door and leaned his ear against the wood. “I think something’s in there.”
Before anyone could stop him, Yvent opened the door. About a million flies buzzed out, filling the small space. Nicole choked and gagged, trying not to hurl. Once some of the flies cleared out, they found a long-picked-over skeleton wearing a pink dress and bow.
“They can just never let go of their mommas,” Kent commented as a cop, holding a hand over his mouth, threw himself down a metal set of stairs.
To think, that could have been her in that closet.
As flies swarmed all around, Kent took her into his embrace. “Hold on tight,” he said.
So seldom was Kent her knight in shining armor that Nicole let him carry her up the steps. An ambulance waited just a few feet from the barn. Its red and blue flashing lights seemed so out of place in such an idyllic setting.
The EMT helped her onto a gurney and rolled up her sleeve to place an IV catheter. The sharp prick caused her to frown.
“Come on, Nic,” Kent chided her. “After everything you’ve been through, you’re going to wince at a needle poke?”
Kent evidently had gotten off his white horse and was back to being himself.
“How is Megan?”
The EMT nodded to an ambulance racing away from the farm. “She’s on her way in. They’ve got the ER set up for both of you,” he said, nodding at Nicole.
“What does that mean?” Kent asked.
“Well”, still looking toward Nicole, “first they are going to ultrasound your belly. Then, based on those results, they will take you to surgery to lavage your abdomen of the fly eggs or maggots.”
Nicole gulped and Kent squeezed her hand. “Okay, that you can be worried about.”
She was glad to know he still had some compassion for her situation.
The EMT injected something into the IV line. “Just pushing some IV antibiotics. As long as an infection hasn’t already set in, you should be fine.”
Kent smiled and smoothed back her hair. “See?”
“Alright sir, I’ll need you to get out,” the EMT said. “You can follow us.”
Kent smiled. “Let’s skip the posturing. I’m staying, so why don’t you shut those doors?”
The EMT studied Kent’s face as he continued, grabbing her hand. “I’m not leaving her. Period.”
The guy must have believed the profiler, which wasn’t surprising. Kent could intimidate a serial killer. The EMT shut the ambulance doors, then knocked on the window and the ambulance took off.
* * *
Kent stayed seated by Nicole’s bed, holding her hand as the doctor finished up the ultrasound, when he really wanted to be pacing back and forth. Was it just Kent, or was this ultrasound the longest in recorded history?
“Well, that’s interesting,” the doctor said as he wiped the gel from the ultrasound probe.
“What’s interesting?” Nicole demanded as she pulled down her shirt.
“You’re clean,” the doctor said.
“Exactly what does that mean?” Nicole pressed. Kent knew how she felt. MDs were maddening. They held your life in their hands, yet were about the most obtuse bunch.
“You are clean of fly eggs. I don’t think that he actually injected you with them.”
“But the needle marks,” Nicole said, pointing to the four red dots that outlined a square on her belly.
“Oh, he injected you,” the doctor said. “And there are small translucent bubbles at the end of the track mark, but my guess is that he injected you with sterile saline. I took a fine needle aspirate of it, but there is absolutely no tissue reaction around it, so you should be fine.”
Nicole blew out a breath, and it whistled as it ended. Then she laughed. “You are kidding me? But what about all the movement I’ve been feeling?”
It was the doctor’s turn to chuckle. “Trust me, you’ve got a lot of gas in there, but I think your mind was just giving you the symptoms you thought you should have.”
While Kent didn’t allow his relief to be quite as blatant as Nicole, his insides were doing a happy dance. To think of her so violated, only to have it be a bluff?
“How’s Megan?” Nicole asked.
“Not so fortunate. He did inject her with eggs. Thousands of them. They are prepping her for surgery.”
“Is she going to make it?” Nicole asked.
“Oh, yes, of course. They are still in the egg stage. It is mainly the infection we have to worry about after we clear them out.”
Nicole put her hand out. “Thank you, doctor.”
The doctor shook Nicole’s hand. “It was my pleasure.”
As he walked away, Kent took Nicole into his embrace, lifted her off the table, and spun her around. Her legs latched around his hips. Then their lips met. Love, relief, horror, and devotion met all at once in a kiss flavored by salty tears.
“I take it that was good news?” Ruben asked as he walked up with Glick.
Kent could feel Nicole wanting to distance herself from him, but he held on. These two could just deal with their PDA.
“Glad to hear it,” Glick said, “But I’ve got to ask Kent a few questions.”
“Shoot,” Kent said, nuzzling against Nicole’s neck.
“Perhaps the station would be a better place?” Glick suggested.
“No,” Kent said as he set Nicole down on the bed. He drew the curtain so she could get her pants on. “Here will be just fine.”
Glick cleared his throat. “This is about possible excessive force.”
“I figured,” Kent replied. This wasn’t his first rodeo. If he could convince his superiors that two gunshots through the eyes was self-defense, he wasn’t too worried here.
“Rodden is in surgery right now for the knife wound. They don’t expect him to make it, since his renal vein was sliced in two.”
“And?” Kent asked.
“It isn’t the knife wound that we are concerned about,” Glick said.
Ruben stepped forward. “But the bel
t around his neck.”
Kent just shrugged. The less he spoke in these situations, he found, the better.
“He was defenseless,” Ruben went on.
“No serial killer is defenseless, ever.” Kent said. “Now if I’d put ten bullets in his chest, if I’d had a gun and shot until the threat was completely gone, that you’d be okay with?”
Glick’s eyes flickered to the assortment of nurses and cops standing around the ER. Kent let that uncomfortable silence work in his favor.
Ruben, of course, didn’t seem to mind making a scene at all.
“The suspect was subdued, though. There was no need for excessive force,” Ruben said.
Kent took a step forward and glared at the tall detective. “What you call excessive, I call prudent.”
“Prudent?” Ruben snorted. “Prudent would have been in calling for backup once you found his lair.”
“Doesn’t it get old standing on that soap box, Torres? It’s going to give you varicose veins.”
The detective’s nostrils flared. This was nearly as much fun as going up against a psychopath. Dudley Do-Rights were nearly as rigid and uncompromising as psychopaths—and equally prone to violence, as Ruben’s hands balled up into fists.
“Do it,” Kent urged. “Show me what restraint looks like.”
Glick put a hand on Ruben’s shoulder and backed him up a step just as Nicole came from around the curtain. “Perhaps Detective Usher can be the tie breaker? After all, she was there for the whole thing.”
Nicole demurred. “It was dark, and half the time they were turned away from me…”
Glick wasn’t letting it go, though. “Nicole, was it excessive force resulting in a near execution, or was it justifiable force resulting in the suspect being subdued?”
Nicole looked to Ruben, then to Kent.
She spoke to Ruben. “You can’t know what it’s like unless you are in the room.”
“No,” Ruben said. “Don’t lie for him.”
“I’m not,” she replied, then turned to Glick. “It was justifiable force, Captain.”
He clapped Ruben on the back. “I guess that settles it.” He then turned to Kent. “Unless, of course, Rodden lives and tells a different story.”
“I’m not worried,” Kent said. Mainly because renal vein injuries were nearly all fatal.
Yvent walked up slowly from the ER waiting room, almost as if he was worried he shouldn’t even be there. Kent nodded at his protégé.
“Sorry about the whole accusing you of being a serial killer thing.”
“Sorry for being such an obvious target,” Yvent said with a smile. “I think I’m going to get a dog and wife as soon as possible. Get me out of that serial killer sweet spot.”
Kent smiled back. For the first time ever, he actually liked the kid. Someone who could live though one of his interrogations and still come out with their sense of humor demanded his respect.
“Anything I can do?”
The kid was clearly surprised when Kent nodded and handed him a sketch. “This guy was at the Chopper Hell bar last night. I need you to interview everyone who was there for his name and possible domicile.”
Yvent scanned the typical biker guy. “Why are we looking for him?”
Nicole was the one who answered. “Lucky 37.”
Yvent’s eyebrows went up. “He’s on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.”
“Yes,” Kent said. “And I believe that he is in town for the next two weeks.” He caught Yvent’s gaze. “Ready for the big leagues?”
“With you to get my back, yes,” his protégé answered. The correct answer. The kid had learned humility, after all. Kent doubted if the kid was going to go charging into any dark warehouses alone.
“Just get a name and then we’ll coordinate,” Kent stressed though, just to be sure.
“Recon only,” Yvent answered. “You got it.”
Joshua trotted up, a frown on his face. He, if possible, disliked Yvent more than Kent had. He held a small bouquet of yellow daisies. “I should have known the gang would all be here,” he said, handing the flowers over to Nicole.
She sniffed them. “How sweet, Joshua. You’re the only one who thought to bring flowers.”
Kent took the hint. He wasn’t too worried, though. He’d just rescued her. She would have to take that as a token of his affection.
“Well, I’m giving her the weekend off,” Glick said, then patted Ruben’s back. “All three of you have the weekend off. Good job, everyone.”
The rest basked in the glow of their Captain’s pride. For Kent, it was just another Friday.
They were all alive, though, and he’d take it.
EPILOGUE
Kent held Nicole’s hand as she made her way down the church steps. People surged around them, exiting the funeral. It was a sea of black swirling all around them. All somber. All in mourning.
The area around them seemed to feel exactly the opposite. Green lawn rolled out before them. Calla lilies bloomed all along the church’s walls. The grounds screamed “spring,” “life,” and “hope.” Maybe it wasn’t such a bad place to spend eternity.
“You didn’t have to do this, you know,” Kent murmured.
No, she didn’t. Most detectives didn’t attend the funeral of victims. Many times, it could stir up bad memories for both the family and the cop. But Nicole felt compelled to come to this one. She and Megan had survived. Emilyn was not so lucky.
“Well?” Kent asked.
She knew what he meant. She’d said she didn’t know if she could keep working with him, putting herself in a position where she could fail another young woman. Kent had been patient with her. He believed that giving up failed every other young woman that any of the five or so serial killers in their city would kill in the future, but he hadn’t pushed it. Once again, he’d given her the space to figure it out for herself.
Which she loved and hated about Kent. After their initial conversation, he hadn’t brought it up until now. Nicole had worked through most of the guilt, shame, and recrimination of losing Emilyn. But did she want to go through it again?
“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.
“Good,” Kent said. Which was weird. Why would he say that? Then he got down on one knee. “The conversation at brunch got me thinking…”
Ruben walked out of the church, assessed the situation in a heartbeat, and said, “Oh. My. God.” And then walked right back into the church.
“I know this isn’t the time,” Kent said. “And even I know this probably isn’t the best place, but Nicole Sasha Usher, will you marry me?”
Nicole’s hand went to her mouth to cover the shock as Kent opened a small black velvet box to reveal an unusual, if not gorgeous, engagement ring. The center stone was a large emerald, surrounded by golden petals encrusted with what looked like light blue, glistening labradorite. An ancient, extremely rare stone. The ring looked like something the Queen of Sheba might have worn.
“It’s… it’s… it’s…” Nicole didn’t know what to say.
“It’s not diamonds, but if you want diamonds, I will get you all the diamonds you want.”
“No,” Nicole said. “No, I love it.”
“So that’s a yes?” Kent said with that damned smirk on his lips.
“Yes, that’s a yes,” Nicole said, laughing and almost crying. She’d never thought Kent the marrying type. And certainly not the specialty ring-buying type.
Kent took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. The cool metal felt just a little odd against her skin.
“Where did you get it?”
“Afghanistan,” Kent said. “From a local master artisan. I didn’t just bring back this lovely scar.”
He pointed to the ragged pink-red tissue that nearly encircled his neck. He’d missed getting decapitated by only a few inches.
“Afghanistan?” Nicole said. “That was months ago.”
“I know,” Kent said. “I bought it, but was waiting until the righ
t moment.”
“And all the sudden you thought, ‘hey, why not a funeral?’”
“No,” Kent said. “I thought, why not ask before you decided whether or not to continue profiling. This way, you know I love you no matter what you decide.”
That was possibly the sweetest, most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her. She urged him up and hugged him. “I love you,” she whispered.
“And I want you happy,” Kent answered.
A glow radiated from her core and beamed outward. Nicole swore that it could eclipse the midday sun.
As other mourners streamed out of the church, Kent moved them off to the side.
“We are going to do this again so that I have a story to tell my father, right?” Nicole asked.
“Sure,” Kent said. “As long as you plan it. I’m tapped out on romantic gestures.”
She should be upset, but with the brilliant emerald sparking in the sun, she found it impossible to be mad at the profiler.
“I’m going to go pop some tags,” Kent said. “Want to join me?”
“Do you even know what popping tags is?” Nicole challenged him, interlacing her fingers in his.
The profiler shrugged. “No, but I mean if rappers are doing it, I can figure it out.”
Nicole shook her head. So typical Kent. Propose one minute, go to the thrift store to exchange discount price tags on higher-priced items the next.
“So?” Kent asked. “You coming?’
“With you?” Nicole said. “Anywhere.”
* * *
Lucky 37 watched the funeral party break up from his Harley.
At first it had been disconcerting to know that someone was hunting him. He was used to being the hunter. And to have the hunter come so close? To walk into his den? It had taken everything he had to stay calm and not bolt when he realized that an FBI profiler and detective were playing pool just a few feet away.
He’d already heard that some young kid was passing around a sketch, asking the patrons at the bar if they knew him. Like his namesake, he was lucky that he didn’t really socialize.
Although he had to allow for the possibility that they would find out his name. He’d already gone by the junkyard and stolen another bike’s plates, so his bike was safe.
The Harbinger Collection: Hard-boiled Mysteries Not for the Faint of Heart (A McCray Crime Collection) Page 55