by Stark, Cindy
“You don’t need to worry about that.” Sam finished off the remaining wine in his glass and headed for the sink.
“I’ve got to get to the bar,” Christian said, leaving his plate and glass on the table. “Enjoy those dishes.”
Just like that, they switched back to the fun-loving guys she knew and liked.
* * *
“There goes the other guy.” Paul slumped farther into his seat as the black Mustang backed out of the driveway and headed down the road. He and Clark had been sitting in the confines of his dark-blue, non-descript sedan, something Paul had been doing regularly since learning where the bar owner spent his days. Once he’d found Holden going to the same place, he knew Janie was holed up inside.
Clark’s breath reeked of garlic, and spending the past hour breathing it, left Paul disgusted and itching to lash out. He lifted the neck of his shirt and stuck his nose inside for a breath of untainted air. He didn’t care if Clark got offended. “He doesn’t work on Mondays, but the rest of the days, he leaves around six-thirty or seven.”
“By then, Holden is back home,” Clark responded.
“Exactly.”
“You don’t want to mess with Holden. He’s a deadly shot, and if he’s got her hidden here, he’s taken extra precautions to keep her safe.”
The fact that Clark vouched for the cop’s abilities irritated Paul further. “I’m not afraid of him.”
Clark laughed. “Then you don’t know him very well.”
“Shit.” Paul glanced out the car window, through the darkness, toward the blazing windows where Janie hid. “Just help me figure out how to get her alone. As much as I’d like to pump a few rounds into the fucker, I don’t need the whole Portland PD breathing down my neck.” One cop’s garlic breath was enough.
“I guarantee he’s got a security system, but I could tell you how to break it.”
He nodded. “The thing I need to know is how we’re going to get them to leave her alone.”
Clark grinned. “I’ve got a plan.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Sam went to work the next morning with a fire lit under him. He had to bring down Paul Castell, and he had to do it now. He admired Janie’s strength, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances with her life. He’d keep pressure on this side of Paul while he, Christian and Ryan worked to put other obstacles in Castell’s way.
Noah was already at his desk when Sam arrived. He startled when Sam walked into their office and quickly clicked his computer mouse as though closing a screen. It appeared as though his partner was doing something he shouldn’t.
“What were you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Noah answered far too quickly. “Work.” He cleared his throat and shuffled some papers on his desk.
“We’re going to focus on nothing but Paul Castell this week. I know he’s into something deep, and I want to bust his ass.”
Noah blinked a couple of times. “Okay.” He paused a moment. “Did you clear this with the captain?”
Sam narrowed his eyes. “Since when do you start questioning me about assignments?”
Chastised, Noah shrugged. “After the failed raid, I figured we should get more concrete intel, from more than once source, before we go all out again.”
“You think so, huh? The guy was treading into dangerous territory.
His partner held up his hands. “I’m looking out for your best interests. Some of the guys are thinking you might be too obsessed with this case, and they’re asking why.”
Noah’s statement was a punch in the gut. He’d watched the department turn on those who failed at their jobs, and eventually, they either left or were fired. But those guys couldn’t do the work.
He could. He produced continually, kept dangerous criminals off the streets.
Their conversation was interrupted when Clark stepped into their office. “Any more news on that Castell fellow?”
Sam eyed him, wondering if he really wanted to know, or if the irritating investigator had heard the talk and wanted to rub it in.
“If I need your help on anything, Dyer, I’ll let you know.” Sam leveled a hard look in his direction. He didn’t need either of these punks questioning his ability to do his job.
Clark lifted his hands. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was such a touchy subject.”
Sam was ready to tell him to get lost when his phone rang.
“In my office. Now.” The captain of the police bureau delivered his message and hung up before Sam had a chance to respond.
An expletive dangled from the edge of his tongue.
“Everything okay?” his partner asked. He glared at Noah, and then left without saying a word. Being goaded by Clark was bad enough, but instinct told him his partner didn’t truly have his back.
* * *
Heavy rain pelted the basement windows as Christian came at her with a menacing look. Janie concentrated on his actions, planning her next move. She tried to dodge him, but he grabbed her around the waist.
Then like clockwork, she ran through the list of moves Sam had taught her, and the next thing she knew, she was free and pretending to kick Christian in the face. He caught her foot, and they both laughed.
“You’re getting to be an expert,” Christian said as he released her.
Janie smiled. “It feels good. To not be weak, you know?”
“I know. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks.” She sighed, still unable to shake the overwhelming sense of doom that had followed her like a dark cloud since their conversation the day before. She’d gotten the feeling that she had no say in the matter, but she couldn’t leave it alone.
“Christian? I really don’t want you and Sam in harm’s way because of me. More than that, I don’t think I could stand it if either of you killed Paul. You’d have his blood on your hands, and it would be my fault.”
He stepped close enough to her that she could see the flecks of gold in his dark eyes. “I know this bothers you, Janie, but you’ve got to understand that you’re treating Paul like a civilized human, and he’s not. He’s ruthless and willing to take your life. Sometimes, you have to deal with people on their terms, not yours. Remember what Sam said. If it ever gets to the point where Paul’s life is in danger, it will be because he put himself there, not you. It’s his to own, not yours. Do you understand that?”
When he said it like that, she did. “But what if one of you gets hurt? You’ve already been shot once because of me.”
“That was a surface wound, a scratch.”
It had been a little more than that, but he’d recovered quickly.
“You’re treating us like we’re pansies, Janie. You’re questioning our intelligence and abilities.” He smiled. “Guys hate that.”
“I know,” she said, half-smiling. “I just don’t like it.”
Christian nodded. “He loves you, you know. He’s always been good to go after a bad guy, but I’ve never seen him this determined or this obsessed.”
Sam’s matter-of-fact statement caught her off guard. “I know.” She did. His words and actions had proved that to her. “I love him, too.”
“I don’t think he knows that.”
She sighed. “He doesn’t. I need to tell him.”
Christian nodded and started to speak before the ringing of his phone interrupted him. He grabbed it from a table near the doorway and frowned. “What’s up?” he said into the device.
The expression on his face changed the atmosphere in the room from somewhat lighthearted to downright tense. “What? I’ll be right there.”
He looked at her, his face a mask of disbelief and shock. “Something in the bar’s kitchen exploded, and the place is on fire.”
“Oh, my God.” Her heart stopped as she tried to make sense of what he’d said.
“I’ve got to go. Fuck. Call Sam while I grab my shoes.” He frantically shoved his phone into her hands before running up the stairs.
She followed him, dialing Sam’s number as
she went.
“I can’t talk right now, Christian,” Sam said, answering the phone. “I’m headed in to see the captain.”
“Sam. It’s Janie.”
“What’s wrong?” His tone shifted from irritated to concerned.
“There’s a fire at Christian’s bar.”
“Are you kidding me? What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he really knows. He needs to go, Sam.”
“You can’t be alone.”
“I’m fine for ten minutes.”
“It’s going to take me longer than that. I’ve got to at least explain to my captain that I have a family emergency. It might take me fifteen to twenty.”
A calmness settled over her. She no longer felt weak or scared. “It’s okay. I’m safe here. I can be alone for a few minutes. Do what you need to and then come home, okay?”
When Sam hesitated, she continued. “He needs to be there. This is his livelihood, and I’ll be fine. I think I would be more at risk if I went with him.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll call when I’m on my way.”
She hung up as Christian raced into the kitchen. “Sam’s on his way. You go.”
“Maybe you should come with.”
“No. I’ll be fine here. Go save your bar.”
He nodded, his face still white with shock.
“Call me when you can,” she added as he headed out the door.
“Set the security alarm after I leave, okay?”
She waved him away, waited until the garage had closed, and then she reset the alarm.
Emptiness echoed through the house as she shut the door behind her. The wind had really picked up outside, causing branches to scratch against the side of the house.
She wrapped her arms around her, sick at the thought of what Christian would find. She prayed no one was hurt. Unneeded adrenaline from the excitement still ran through her veins, leaving her anxious. She wanted Sam to be there to share in her waiting and wondering.
A loud bang echoed from the back of the house, startling her. She glanced out the back doors to see that one of the deck chairs had blown over.
She forced a calming breath. This was the first time she’d been completely alone in months. That, along with Christian’s terrifying news would set anyone on edge. She glanced at the clock on the wall. If she went now, she’d have time for a quick shower before Sam arrived home.
She’d finished undressing when the sound of glass shattering scared her witless. Her first thought was that the wind must have blown one of the chairs into the glass back doors. She wrapped a robe around her and hurried down the hall.
* * *
Sam walked into the captain’s office, on edge and antsy. He needed to get home. He ignored the cluttered files and numerous coffee cups that lined the man’s credenza. The fit, older man didn’t look like the type that would consume gallons of coffee each day along with a hamburger and fries for lunch, but he did. He also ran twenty miles daily and flushed the hazardous waste with plenty of water.
The senior officer watched him with an assessing gaze as Sam took a seat across the desk.
“You wanted to see me?”
“Your informant on the Castell case, Brent Shaw, was found dead this morning of a suspected overdose.”
Sam processed the news, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He’d bet anything it was a forced overdose. “I’m sorry to hear that.” The fact that he’d more than likely been a catalyst in the kid’s death didn’t sit well with him.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Captain? There was no doubt he was being called on the carpet, but he couldn’t imagine this was over the raid. There were plenty of stings that went south, plenty of criminals who escaped the law the first time around.
His supervisor stared at him with a hard gaze. “I’m going to ask you a question, and you’d damn well better tell the truth.”
He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t exactly run out of his boss’s office without explaining why. Fight or flight fired within him, and it took all he had to remain seated. “Ask it.”
“Are you harboring a fugitive?”
“A fugitive? What the hell was he talking about?
The captain flattened his lips into a thin line. “Are we going to do this the hard way?”
Shit. He couldn’t mean Janie. No one but the guys knew where she was staying. “I’m not harboring a fugitive.”
He glanced down at a notepad on his desk. “So, you have no idea on the whereabouts of Janie Singleton?”
Fuck. Sam swallowed, but remained stoic. He needed to answer truthfully, but he couldn’t give her up.
His boss seemed prepared to wait him out.
“She’s not a fugitive. She’s a victim of domestic violence, and I’m only protecting her.”
Disappointment dulled the captain’s features. “She still has to answer for her actions.”
He was trapped, and there was no way out. “It’s not right, sir.”
“We are servants of the justice system. It’s not for us to decide what’s right. That’s up to the courts.”
Why hadn’t he whisked her away when he’d had the chance? And how in the hell had his supervisor found out? “I understand.”
“Good. It will be easier if she contacts her attorney directly and works through her.” He paused for a threatening second as though he needed to let Sam know how serious things were. “Do it today. Now. Do I make myself clear?”
Sam jerked his head in a nod as thoughts raced through his brain. If the captain knew Janie was with him, then someone else did, too….
“You’re a good detective, Sam. An asset to the department. Don’t let a girl—”
Sam didn’t hear the rest of his boss’s words as he dashed from his office, panic thundering through him.
* * *
Janie glanced at the back door, not seeing any broken glass or any more chairs that had tipped over. Maybe something had hit another window?
She turned and nearly vomited. Paul stood in the shadows of the adjoining room, a gun in his hand.
“Hello, beautiful.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Icy fear consumed Janie. “What do you want?” she managed to whisper.
“You.” Paul raked a possessive gaze over her. “I’ve missed you.”
She shook her head and took a step backward.
He advanced, keeping the gun pointed at her. “It looks like you’re ready for that shower now. ‘Cause God knows I’m ready for you.”
“No, Paul.” She ran for the garage door, but he caught her by the hair. Pain exploded in her head, and in the distance, her phone began to ring.
“This time, we’re going to do it my way.” He took her by the wrist, and she tried to jerk away from him. He laughed at her efforts. “Face it, Janie. I own you.”
His statement broke open a molten vat of anger that singed her veins and centered her thinking. “No,” she said, bracing her feet like Sam had shown her. “I own me.” She twisted her wrist and jerked their hands up toward her shoulder, allowing her to break free. She aimed a kick for his groin, but he moved just in time, and she caught him in the thigh. The force was still enough to drop him to his knees. He grabbed for her and caught her robe. She released the sash and escaped it.
Then she ran.
He blocked the hall, and therefore the regular exits, so she headed into her bedroom, slamming the door shut as he got to his feet.
There were too many similarities between this time and the last, but this time, she wasn’t a helpless, battered woman.
She twisted the lock, her heart pounding. Her cell sat on the desk ringing. Her grandfather’s gun in her closet.
Paul twisted the knob on the door, and she ran for the closet. Her phone would bring help. Her gun would allow her to help herself.
She voted for the latter.
Despite her thundering heart, she remained fairly focused as she pulled the gun
from the box. The sound of his full weight slamming against the door vibrated the windows. She slid bullets into all the chambers and closed it just as Paul crashed through the door.
He stopped short when he realized she had a gun.
“If you move, I will kill you.”
The second he lifted his hand that held his revolver, she squeezed the trigger. Paul keeled over as Sam’s words rushed through her brain, and she realized he was right. It was Paul’s actions that brought them to this point. Paul’s black heart and his cruel ways.
As blood pooled on the floor, she couldn’t bring herself to regret what she’d done.
She’d ended things.
She’d protected herself and the ones that she loved.
Exhaling a shaky breath, she walked to the desk and lifted her phone. Sam.
“Thank God, you’re okay.” His words rushed across the phone line, comforting her. “I’m almost there, but I think Paul may try something. I want you to—”
“Sam,” she interrupted. The tears came then. He was still trying to protect her, and she loved him for it. “It’s over.”
“What’s over? Panic still colored his words. “Janie? What’s over?”
“I shot him, Sam.” She swallowed. “This time, I think I really might have killed him.”
Sam burst through the door two minutes later, stepped over Paul and crushed her in his embrace.
She let him. For a long time, she let him just hold her.
When the sirens sounded in the distance, he released her. “Find something to put on, and I’ll meet them at the door.”
She slid into some jeans and a tank top, a cool, calmness keeping her sane. She was sure at some point, this would all crash down on her, but for now, she was okay.
* * *
Clark collided with Noah as he exited his office, knocking the empty coffee cup from his hand. It shattered into a multitude of black ceramic pieces when it hit the floor.
“Sorry, Clark.” The detective continued past him, obviously in a state of excited stress. “There’s been a shooting, and I’ve got to go. Sam’s somehow involved.”
“Was it that girl he’s trying to help? His pulse increased. Paul had achieved his goal. Thank God, too, because they both were on their last thread with Hardy.