by Rachel Grant
He caught a whiff of propane, let go of the buckle and stood. The distinctive scent was nearly overpowered by the intense odor of gasoline, which he could see had been dumped all over the kitchen. At the cooktop, he found every burner set on high, filling the room with gas. He hesitated. Turning off the burners could cause a spark as the knobs passed through the light section of the dial. Between the propane and the gasoline poured everywhere, one spark was all it would take for the kitchen to explode. He located the emergency shut off valve and twisted it closed.
Lance climbed the back steps as Mark lifted Libby. “Stay out,” he ordered. “The kitchen is full of propane.”
“The back is clear,” Lance said.
Outside, Mark set Libby down on the lawn, as far from the kitchen as possible. She still smelled of gasoline. He could see dark patches on her dress, places where the fuel had been poured over her. He finished unhooking the belt and pulled the pillowcase from her head. Her eyes were wide and scared. He gently worked at the duct tape that covered her mouth.
“I radioed for backup and an ambulance,” Lance said. “I think the suspect is long gone. At least two minutes elapsed between the time we arrived and when we entered. The suspect had plenty of time to clear the alley.”
Mark nodded. “No one is to enter the house until the gas dissipates. Radio for a fire truck, then check out the alley again. I don’t like having her out here like this, exposed.” He managed to work the tape off her mouth. He set the silver strip aside to be checked for fingerprints. She took a large gasping breath and then brought her bound hands to her face and rolled to her side. Her body shook as she let out a sob.
He reached out to comfort her, his fingers running through her hair. He didn’t feel any bumps or other signs of head trauma. “I need to know what happened,” he said softly.
“Jeez, Chief, is this how you entertain women?”
Mark glanced up to see Luke Roth approaching through the side yard. Mark’s response was something of a low growl. The usual irreverent humor used to break tension at crime scenes didn’t apply here. He was crazy about this woman. “What are you doing here? You’re off-duty.”
“I heard the call as I was driving by. Figured I’d come help out.”
Luke knelt beside Libby, across from Mark. Libby put her hands beneath her and pushed off the grass. Mark helped her into a sitting position. She wiped at her eyes.
“Have you been drinking?” Mark said, looking away from Libby and studying his officer. The last thing he needed was a drunk off-duty cop messing with the crime scene.
“I was the designated driver. I was dropping Roger off when the call came.”
Mark nodded, knowing Roger rented a house in the historic district, a block away. Luke’s timing was suspicious and right now Mark wasn’t in the frame of mind to trust anyone. Later he’d check with Roger and the others who’d been at the tavern to confirm what time Luke had left the bar.
He turned back to Libby and focused on her eyes. Her pupils were evenly dilated. “What happened?” he asked.
“I think I was Tasered,” she rasped. She licked her lips and shook her head. “There was lots of pain. A big jolt, like needles were inside me, ripping me apart.”
“Did you feel a prick anywhere, before the jolt?”
She nodded. “Below my shoulder.”
Luke handed him a flashlight and he examined her back. Her dress had two small tears just below her shoulder blade. He pulled the fabric aside and found two puncture wounds. “You were Tasered all right.”
“It was awful. I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t stand.” Her speech became clearer. “I don’t even remember him putting the bag on my head and binding me. All I could feel was excruciating pain.”
Luke cut the duct tape that held her legs together and then freed her hands.
“You said ‘him.’ Did you see who assaulted you?”
She shook her head. “It was dark. I was searching for the kitchen light switch. I touched a hand blocking the switch and he shot me in the same moment. I couldn’t see or think or anything while I was being Tasered. Then the bag was over my head. I didn’t see the person at all, but I thought the hands that held my wrists together felt like a man’s.”
“Did you hear anything that would help you identify your attacker?”
“No.” She touched the damp spots on her dress. “I heard splashing. I think I smelled gasoline.”
“There was a five-gallon jug in the room and it looked like it had been poured over everything, including you.”
She began to shake again, so he placed a hand on hers. “We need to get back inside that kitchen,” he said. “Libby, is there a fan anywhere in the house?”
“Upstairs, in my office.”
“I’ll get it,” he said.
Luke stood. “I’ll do it, Chief.” He left them before Mark could stop him.
Two more police cars pulled up. Mark assigned those officers to help Lance patrol the yard, alley, and neighborhood.
An ambulance drove down the back alley and parked in the rear driveway. For the first time, Mark realized the Suburban wasn’t parked there. “Where’s your truck?” he asked.
“I left it at Simone’s. She drove me to the bar.”
He’d been so angry that he’d left her stranded and alone without giving a thought to the stalker who’d entered her house twice already. “I shouldn’t have left you here.”
“I’m just glad you came back.”
He couldn’t think about what might have happened if he hadn’t returned with the warrant. What she’d gone through was bad enough: she was pale, her hands shook as she rubbed her eyes, and she smelled of gasoline. He wanted to hunt down the sonofabitch who’d attacked her and exact his own justice.
A gurney was unloaded from the back of the ambulance and two male emergency medical technicians rolled it to where they sat in the grass.
Libby stood. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just a little shaky.”
“We need to check your vital signs,” the first EMT said.
“I don’t want to go to the hospital.” She sat on the gurney, remaining stiff, ready to bolt. Mark couldn’t blame her. After what she’d just been through, the thought of being under someone else’s control, even if it was a medical technician, was probably unbearable.
Mark told the EMTs that she was probably suffering from several jolts from a Taser.
“How many bursts?” the EMT asked.
Libby closed her eyes. After a moment, she said, “Three.”
“How long did they last?”
“Forever. The first one lasted long enough for him to tape my mouth, put the bag on my head, and tape my legs.”
All of Mark’s officers were trained with Tasers. The jolt wasn’t supposed to last more than five seconds but could be increased up to thirty, which wasn’t long enough to bind and gag her. Had the suspect modified the non-lethal weapon to sustain longer bursts? “They’re supposed to be quick,” he said.
“That’s what the guy at the gun store told me when I bought one Saturday,” Libby said.
“You have a Taser?” Mark asked.
“It’s in my purse.”
The EMT interrupted. “Three extended blasts from a Taser is outside our training. You should go to the hospital for observation.”
“No,” she said. “I’m tired. Sore. But a hospital isn’t going to help with that. If I start to feel worse, I promise I’ll go.”
“Then we’ll stay and monitor your vitals for a while longer,” the technician said.
“We need to call Jack,” she said to Mark. “Let him know that the house was nearly torched. Jack’s mobile number is programmed into my cell. I don’t know if he’s in Coho or at his Seattle home tonight.”
He touched her hand; her fingers closed around his. Over an hour ago they’d argued, but he didn’t care. Right now nothing mattered except the fact that she’d survived what seemed to be an attempt on her life.
Reluctantly, he let go
. “I’ll get your phone,” he said. He had his own questions for Jack. He left her with the EMTs and walked around the house to the front where a fire truck blocked half of the road. Mark entered the house and found the fire chief standing in the dining room, just outside the kitchen.
The chief looked up. “The gas has cleared, but I want to give it another ten minutes with the fan blowing.”
Mark nodded. “The suspect probably turned on the propane just before leaving. He wouldn’t want the gas flowing while he was in the room, especially considering he used a Taser on the victim, which could ignite the gas. I’d guess the propane was on for two or three minutes, tops.”
The fire chief pointed to a wine bottle stuffed with a scorched rag on the kitchen floor. “The suspect probably lit that as he left. The room hadn’t had time to fill with gas yet or the kitchen would have exploded. Your victim is lucky that Molotov cocktail didn’t shatter.”
In his rush to pull Libby out to safety, he’d missed the bottle. It lay next to where her legs had been and probably didn’t shatter and ignite the room because the bastard threw it directly at her. Maybe her legs broke its fall. She might have knocked the bottle and doused the flame when she kicked the cabinets.
He went cold. He’d been investigating her stalking complaints for a week and come up with nothing. He’d failed her and then left her stranded in her home with a person who intended to kill her. “We’re looking at attempted arson and attempted murder,” he said.
“I’ve already called my arson investigator. He should be here soon.”
“I’ll be outside with the victim until then.”
They both headed for the front door. Mark took a throw blanket from the couch and grabbed Libby’s purse, which sat on the floor next to Angela’s boxes. His eyes lingered on the damn boxes, his reason for leaving her alone in the house. All signs indicated Libby was the target. But he couldn’t help but wonder if someone hoped the fire would destroy the boxes as well as kill Libby.
He stepped out into the yard and called Jack from her cell phone. Jack answered on the second ring. “Libby? Is everything okay?”
Mark glanced at his watch; it was nearly midnight. “Hi, Jack, this is Mark Colby. There’s been a break-in at the Shelby house. Libby is okay, but she was assaulted.”
“What?”
“She was incapacitated with a Taser and someone tried to burn the place down with her inside.”
“My God.”
“She’s being checked out by paramedics right now. Are you in Coho?”
“Yeah. I’m coming over.” Jack hung up.
Back in the yard, Libby was up and walking around, trying to convince the EMTs that they could leave. She looked brave, strong, and very much as if she was trying to hide just how hurt she was. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her, but instead he sat her down and wrapped the blanket around her.
Minutes later, Jack and Jason walked up the back driveway. Mark studied Jason, looking for signs that the lawyer was hiding something. He checked his watch. Five minutes since his call. The assailant had left on foot and disappeared without a trace. “You got here fast.”
“We’re staying in the Dawes house, up the hill,” Jason said. “Cut through a few yards and it’s a quick walk.” He approached Libby and knelt next to the gurney. “Are you okay?” He wrapped his hands around hers as though he was trying to warm her.
“I’m fine. Just sore,” she said.
“What happened?”
Mark watched the two of them and made a decision he hadn’t even realized he’d been considering. “Before you talk to Libby, I need to speak with you both,” Mark said.
Jason reluctantly dropped her hands and stood. He didn’t take his eyes off Libby.
She waved him away. “I’m fine. Talk to Mark.”
He led Jason and Jack to the front of the house, where they could speak alone. He wouldn’t wait for the DNA results. Fifteen years ago the dental records would have been enough for a positive identification and he had Jack and Jason’s attention here, now. It was time to tell them Angela had been found.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THE EMTS CHECKED LIBBY’S heart rate once again while Mark talked to Jack and Jason on the other side of the house. She knew he must be telling them about Angela. After several minutes, Jack and Jason walked back around the house. There was sadness in Jason’s eyes, but determination, too. She stood and reached out to him, responding to his pain on a primal level. He hugged her fiercely. All her fears and reservations about him disappeared. She offered only comfort and that was all he took.
She pulled away and held both of his hands in hers. “I’m very sorry about what happened to your mother, but I’m glad we found her. I hope you’ll find out what happened to her now.”
“Maybe we will,” Jason said, “if they don’t waste all their time investigating Jack. I was with him when my mom disappeared. At nine years old, I may not have been considered a reliable alibi, but I’m not nine anymore.”
She wondered if his career choice of defense lawyer stemmed from the need to prepare for the day when his father would need his counsel. His father hadn’t been there for him when his mother disappeared, but Jason would support his father now.
The arson investigator arrived. He questioned Mark and Officer Edelson and then interviewed her. He then examined the kitchen and finally released the scene to the Coho Police Department, who swarmed into the house.
Libby moved with Jack and Jason to the relative comfort of the living room. The house was a strange hive of activity for one in the morning. An officer removed the boxes from the living room, loading them into the trunks of several patrol cars while Jason read through the warrant.
Libby told Jack and Jason what she’d found in the boxes and about the copies she’d made. She confessed that she’d opened one box after Mark had told her not to, knowing if she didn’t tell them now then the omission could come back to haunt her.
Jack paced the living room while officers passed through, busy with the dual investigations. He glanced briefly at the broken window in the front door. “Is that how he got in?” he asked.
Mark walked into the living room and answered for her. “That’s how Lance and I entered. We don’t know how the attacker got in. Who has keys to this house?”
“Jason and I. Libby has two copies.”
“Simone has one,” Libby said.
“Do you have a cleaning service?” Mark asked.
“No one I use regularly enough to give a key,” Jason said. He turned to Libby. “I’ll call a locksmith and have the locks changed. You will have the only keys. I’ll also have an alarm system installed by Monday.”
Jack turned to Mark. “Do you need anything else from us tonight?”
“No. I’d like to talk to you at the station tomorrow, after we have the DNA confirmation.”
Jack’s spine stiffened. “I will do anything to catch Angela’s killer.”
An hour later, Mark closed the boarded-up door behind the last officer to leave the scene. It was time for the talk that had seemed so vital hours ago. Libby decided to begin with the biggest issue that stood between them. “Jason told me you could be fired because you didn’t take control of the unopened boxes as soon as you had the preliminary ID.”
“That would only be a threat if I were on shaky ground with the city council, then something like that could be leverage to force a resignation. But I’m good at what I do and haven’t made enemies here.”
“I had no idea those boxes could be so important that my actions could get you fired.”
“No one is going to fire me over boxes that are probably inadmissible. Any good lawyer could get them excluded. They were out of police control for years. My best hope is they’ll lead me to evidence that is admissible.”
“I wish I could go back to yesterday.”
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Right now all that matters is you’re okay. I never should have left you here
tonight.”
A tingling sensation in her nose warned of tears. She fought crying the only way she could. She rose up on her toes and kissed him, but the tears came anyway.
Both his hands cupped her face. He brushed her tears away and kissed her tenderly.
“You make me feel things that scare me,” she whispered against his lips. Mortification spread through her. She couldn’t believe she’d said the words aloud. In her experience, nothing drove away a man faster than admitting feeling more than lust. In horror, she tried to pull away.
He locked his arms around her waist, preventing escape. “I’m scared, too.”
Never in a million years did she expect him to say that. “What are we going to do?”
“I’ve gone skydiving. Scared the hell out of me, but it was an amazing flight. This feels the same.”
“Do I have a parachute?”
He grinned. “Don’t need it. We can fly.”
Her stomach dropped, taking her heart along for the ride. She couldn’t believe she was getting a second chance after so thoroughly screwing things up. She laughed and kissed him again, this time without tears.
She dropped down on her heels and leaned her forehead against his chest. He made her feel safe. As if she could forget what happened in the kitchen. There was one detail she wanted to tell him. “Mark, I think Aaron was at the library yesterday.”
“He couldn’t have been there. I watched the crowd, looking specifically for him.”
“Have you met him?”
“I’ve seen photos.”
“I think he sat in the second to last row. He wore a Mariners baseball cap.”
“No. I’d have recognized him.”
“Simone didn’t believe me either. But I know he was there. I even dreamt last night I saw him there. Couldn’t my subconscious remember what my conscious mind didn’t?”
“It was probably just a dream.”
“But it was so real.”
“What matters is tonight. My ex-partner is checking his alibi as we speak. We’ll know tomorrow morning if he could have been here.”