by Lara Lacombe
“Talk through the door,” Ben yelled back. “I don’t want to see you.”
“Too bad,” the guy replied. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Oh, yeah?” Ben scoffed, feeling a little cocky. Who did this guy think he was? No way was Ben going to open the door just because he said so. Besides, what could the man do to him from the other side of the door? “Just what are you going to do about it?”
No sooner had the question left his lips than a fierce blow landed on the door, followed quickly by another and then another. The door began to bow in under the stress of the assault, and Ben took a step back, a sense of horror rising in his chest as he watched the once seemingly solid barrier splinter into pieces before his eyes.
After a few more kicks, the door finally gave way. A tall, lanky man stood in the doorway, glaring at Ben. He stepped into the room, his boots crunching on the shards of wood as he walked.
Ben moved behind the desk, pressing himself against the wall in an effort to appear smaller. The man advanced until he was only a few inches away, then leaned forward, thrusting his face into Ben’s. Ben turned his head and winced, trying to escape the unpleasant sensation of the man’s hot breath against his chin.
“As I was saying,” the guy said, grinding out the words from between clenched teeth. “We need to talk.”
Chapter 6
Fiona stepped outside and narrowly avoided bumping into a tall man who was entering the store. “Sorry,” she muttered automatically, dodging to the side just before their bodies made contact. He kept walking, not bothering to respond. She glanced up but wasn’t able to catch a glimpse of his face before he walked inside. There was something about the way he moved, though...why did he seem familiar?
Shaking off the unnerving sensation, she walked over to her car, which was parked next to Ben’s. She stood there for a moment, waiting for him to join her. Where is he? He said he’d be right behind me.
Her impatience only grew when her stomach growled. She still hadn’t eaten anything, and while she didn’t fancy a breakfast of doughnuts and coffee, it was better than nothing, and she didn’t think she could wait any longer to eat. Her head was already starting to hurt, and her body cried out for caffeine.
She cast a last look back at the door, but when Ben didn’t materialize, she made her choice. Fishing her keys out of her pocket, she dumped his files in the passenger seat of her car and went back inside in search of food.
As soon as she stepped inside the store, she knew something was wrong. The atmosphere felt heavy and tense. She glanced at Kevin, who was standing behind the counter, and his wide eyes and nervous glances toward Ben’s office made it clear the problem was inside. She took a step in Kevin’s direction to ask what was going on, but then she heard the angry voices coming from the direction of the office.
“I told you, I don’t have them!” That was Ben, and he sounded defiant but a little bit scared. Who was he talking to?
She glanced around the store but didn’t see the tall guy who’d entered shortly after she’d stepped out. Was he back there in Ben’s office?
“Stop lying to me!” That must be him, the stranger who had given her the willies. Hearing his voice now only made the feeling of dread worse, and she stepped back, wanting instinctively to get away from him. There was something about the situation that reminded her of last night, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
“Get out!”
“Not until you give me what I want!”
“What should I do?” Kevin’s voice was a panicked whisper.
Fiona shrugged, uncertain. It sounded like a terrible argument, but should they call the police over two men yelling at each other?
The two of them stood there, frozen, as the argument raged on. Then they heard a loud bang, followed by renewed yelling.
“I’m calling the police,” Kevin announced.
Fiona nodded her agreement. It sounded like things were escalating, and better to be safe than sorry. Hopefully the police would arrive before true violence erupted. Her stomach sank at the thought, and her legs started to tremble. No, not again! Her heart pounded at the thought of being attacked again. Some small, logical voice in her head pointed out that she was not involved in this argument and wasn’t a target. But her emotions had already shaken off the yoke of reason and were taking over her body.
“Go on,” Kevin said. “Get out of here. You’ve been through enough already, what with last night.”
She took a step back but then stopped. “Be careful,” she told Kevin. “Maybe you should wait for the cops outside.”
Kevin nodded. “I will. Now go home.”
Fiona turned and retreated back to her old car. It took a couple of tries for the engine to turn over, but it finally caught and she was able to head out. Part of her felt guilty for leaving Kevin alone to deal with the situation, and she was definitely worried about Ben. But she couldn’t bring herself to stay. Although Nate’s presence had distracted her when they were together, now that she was alone she felt shaky when she thought about last night.
“Guess I’m not as okay as I thought,” she muttered to herself. She reached up to rub absently at her temple, where the gun had left an impression in her skin. It was smooth now, but her fingers filled in the remembered details. So close.
Too close. Being on the wrong end of a gun wasn’t anything she’d wish on even her worst enemy. How long would it take for her to forget the cold press of steel, the sheer, abject terror that locked her muscles so she was unable to move, to defend herself? She’d never felt so powerless in her life—her limbs had literally been paralyzed, totally unresponsive to her brain’s signals.
She took one hand off the wheel and shook it, the motion helping to remind her that she was fine now. There had to be some way to move past this, to forget about the events of last night and get back to her normal life.
Maybe she could include it in her dissertation? She could write a chapter about shift workers and crime. She couldn’t be the only person who’d been robbed or assaulted because she was working in the middle of the night when most people were asleep. Her mind started in on a list of questions she could ask her interview subjects, how she could steer the conversation to such a potentially sensitive topic. The last thing she wanted was to further traumatize the people helping her with her research, but this topic would give her a much deeper understanding of the lives of these workers and the risks they took on a daily basis.
She pulled into her driveway feeling much calmer. Now that she had a plan, she could try to dissect her own experiences with a little more clinical detachment, a little less emotion. And if her interview subjects knew she herself had been the victim of an armed robbery, they might be more willing to share their own memories.
She headed into the house and made a quick stop in the kitchen for a granola bar, finishing it in a few bites as she walked down the hall to her bedroom. Slinky lifted his head as she walked into the room, and gave her a halfhearted greeting before returning to his nap. “That looks like an excellent idea,” she said, kicking off her shoes and joining the cat on the bed. A quick nap would help her recharge before she started working on her dissertation. She snuggled up next to Slinky’s soft warmth and closed her eyes with a sigh.
* * *
She had just drifted off to sleep when a faint noise snagged her attention. Probably just the tree branches scraping against the side of the house. She really needed to get them trimmed...
She rolled over with a yawn, ready to surrender back into relaxation. But she heard it again, more insistent this time. It sounded like it was coming from her back door, and while the tree closest to the house was a bit overgrown, its branches didn’t extend down to reach her door.
Fiona sat up, focusing. Yes, she heard it again. She climbed out of bed and started down the hall. Was there a stray animal outside? With Christmas only a week away, the weather was definitely turning chilly. Maybe some lost pet was looking for a warm place to stay. She coul
d take in a temporary lodger for the night—she already had cat food, and if it turned out to be a dog, she could always run to the store and grab a few cans of dog food. Slinky wouldn’t be terribly happy, but she couldn’t leave a defenseless animal to the mercy of the weather.
With that in mind, she turned the corner and froze in her tracks. The dull brass doorknob of the back door was wiggling, as if someone or something on the other side was twisting it. She heard a faint click, and then the knob began to rotate freely. No dog can do that, she thought numbly. Then her brain kicked into gear. Run!
She scrambled back down the hall and made it to her room accompanied by the squeak of the door hinges as the back door was pushed open. Oh, God, someone was in her house! She shut her bedroom door, trying to be quiet about it, and turned the lock. The door wasn’t very strong, but hopefully it would buy her a few minutes to escape.
Moving quickly, she jammed her feet back into her shoes. Keys, keys—where were they? In her purse. Which was on the kitchen table.
She bit her lip to hold back a cry of frustration. But wait! She had a spare set in her desk. Precious seconds ticked by as she rifled through the drawer, shoving aside papers, pens and the general crap that had accumulated over the years. There, tucked in the far back corner, she found them.
The keys jangled noisily as she pulled them free, but the sound was drowned out by a crash from the living room. Whoever was in the house was looking for something and not being very subtle about it. She didn’t have many valuables, but hopefully they would have their hands full trying to get the TV through the doorway.
Fiona shoved the keys into her pocket and grabbed her gym bag off the floor. She dumped the contents on the bed, then reached for Slinky. He let out an indignant protest as she shoved him into the bag and zipped it closed.
“Sorry, baby,” she whispered. “But I’m not leaving you behind.”
It took some effort, but she managed to shove the window open. Then she scrambled outside and skidded across the lawn to the car, pressing the key fob frantically to unlock the doors. She climbed in and shoved the gym bag over to the passenger seat, feeling a prickle of guilt over manhandling her cat so rudely. Slinky started howling incessantly, a mournful, haunting cry that would have broken her heart if she hadn’t been so scared. She got the key into the ignition and turned, but the engine didn’t respond.
“Come on, not now!”
She tried again, but a grinding sound was her only reward. She pumped the gas pedal and twisted the key again.
Her front door flew open, and a tall figure appeared in the doorway. Fiona felt her heart stop—it was the man from the store, the one who had been arguing with Ben! Why was he here now?
He saw her, and his mouth twisted in anger. She heard him yell but couldn’t make out the words. He started in her direction, and she twisted the key again, desperate for the car to start. Whoever this man was, he clearly meant to hurt her.
Slinky’s cries took on a more piercing note, as if he could sense the danger heading toward them. “It’s okay,” she said, unsure if she was trying to calm the cat or herself.
The engine finally caught, and Fiona slammed the car into Reverse and stepped on the gas. They shot out of the driveway and right into her neighbor’s mailbox, which fell over with a crash. She shifted into Drive and moved forward, tearing down the road and away from her house.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Huffnagel,” she said, wincing as she caught sight of the destroyed mailbox in her rearview mirror. The intruder was standing at the end of her driveway, his features twisted with rage as he watched her drive away.
Slinky had calmed somewhat, his pitiful howls subsiding into a keening meow. “I know, sweetie.” Fiona placed her hand on the bag, patting him through the fabric. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you out soon.”
Her heart rate began to calm as she put more distance between them and the burglar. She had to report this to the police, but she didn’t want to talk to just any detective. Nate would know what to do and could help her.
Breathing deeply, she steered the car in the direction of Nate’s station and forced herself to slow down. The man couldn’t catch her on foot, and she hadn’t seen a strange car in front of her house. She was safe, at least for now.
So why was she still shaking like a leaf?
Chapter 7
“Gallagher!”
Nate glanced up at the shout of his name. Charlie, the desk sergeant, stood at the entry to the squad room, his head swiveling on his long neck like a giraffe in search of a tasty morsel.
“What have you got?” He stood and walked over to the door, not wanting to shout this conversation over the heads of the other officers seated nearby.
“There’s a lady who says she needs to talk to you. Fiona Sanders. Know her?”
Nate nodded, his heart thumping hard at the mention of her name. Fiona was here? He quickened his pace, eager to see her again. He’d meant to call her after getting settled in to work but hadn’t had a chance. Now that she was here, though, maybe she’d agree to have dinner with him. He owed her at least that much after bailing on her this morning, and if they were away from her cat, he’d be able to finish what they’d started last night. He smiled to himself, the anticipation of kissing her, really kissing her, warming his blood.
His eagerness died when he entered the lobby and caught a glimpse of her face, his stomach sinking with the realization that she wasn’t paying him a social call. Her cheeks were pale, her brows drawn, and the dark circles under her eyes looked even more pronounced than they had this morning. She was carrying a gym bag, and as he approached, he saw the bag squirm. What was going on?
“Fiona?”
She glanced up, relief flashing across her face when she saw him. “Nate,” she breathed, stepping forward to meet him.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”
She glanced around, clearly uncomfortable. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
“Of course.” He guided her through the maze of desks to an empty interrogation room. Not wanting her to feel pressured, he pulled a chair around the table so he could sit next to her rather than across from her. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
She set the bag on the table and unzipped it. Slinky poked his head through the opening, his eyes wide and his ears flat against his head. “It’s okay, baby,” she crooned to him, running her fingers over his fur. The cat swiveled to take in the room, his gaze focusing on Nate for a moment.
“Hey, buddy,” he said, offering his hand for the cat to sniff. Unless he missed his guess, Fiona had left her home in a hurry. The fact that she’d brought the cat revealed she didn’t intend to go back. What had happened?
Slinky dropped back into the bag, apparently unimpressed with the interrogation room and the company. Fiona made sure he was settled, then turned to face Nate.
“Someone broke into my house today.”
The news hit him like a punch to the gut. Who would do that? And why? From what Nate had seen when he’d taken her home the other night, she didn’t have many valuables. Of course, that didn’t mean she was safe from robbery—burglars couldn’t necessarily tell what treasures may or may not lurk inside a home.
Before he could get a question out, Fiona went on. “I was home when it happened. I heard a sound at the back door and thought it was a stray animal, but when I went to investigate, the doorknob started to turn.”
Nate’s blood ran cold. He’d worked several home-invasion cases in the past, and the home owners who were inside at the time of the robbery were invariably shaken and scared. And for Fiona to have to endure such a stressful event hours after being robbed at gunpoint? “I’m so sorry,” he said. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I ran back to my bedroom, grabbed the cat and climbed out the window.”
That was smart on her part. Once again, she’d kept her cool under pressure, something he admired. “Did the burg
lar see you?”
“Yeah.” She looked down and rubbed her hand up and down her arm as if she was cold. “He did. He heard me trying to start my car and came running out.”
“Did you get a good look at him?”
“Not enough to draw you a picture, but he’s the same guy from the convenience store earlier this morning.”
Nate frowned. “Wait, back up. What guy from the store this morning?”
She gave him a funny look. “Kevin called the police about it. I figured they would tell you since you were there last night.”
“Nope—not my normal kind of case. Why don’t you fill me in?”
Fiona took a deep breath. “He gave me a funny feeling, like he was up to no good, you know?” She told Nate how this stranger and her boss, Ben, had gotten into a screaming match.
“I didn’t stick around to see how it was resolved.” She looked down again, and a faint pink blush stole across her cheeks. “I just couldn’t stay, not after last night. It was too intense for me.”
Nate reached out and gathered one of her hands in his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t have to apologize for that. And you did the right thing—you left at the first sign of trouble. That’s the best way to stay safe.”
She let out a weak laugh, but gave his hand an answering squeeze. “Doesn’t seem to have done me much good. Why did that guy come after me? And how did he know where I live?”
“I’m not sure about his motive, but as for finding you, that’s a matter of public record.”
“Great. That makes me feel safe.”
Nate chuckled. “I know. If it makes you feel any better, we can look into having your records taken down as a matter of protection. In the meantime, sit tight. I’m going to grab my partner. I’d like him to hear your story, if you don’t mind.”
Fiona shook her head. “Fine with me. The more the merrier, right?”
She turned her attention back to Slinky, and Nate quietly left the room. When he was safely on the other side of the door, he exhaled heavily. What was going on here? Fiona seemed like the type of woman who lived a quiet life. Why had she been the victim of two violent attacks in as many days?