Explosive Reunion

by Karen Kirst

  Cade parked his Jeep in Tori’s driveway, confused as to why there was only one deputy on guard and why that deputy’s vehicle was empty.

  Scoping out the area around the garage and Kenneth’s side yard, he entered the gated area and pounded on the front door. Nothing stirred inside. He tried the knob. Locked.

  He punched in her cell number and paced the length of the porch. When it went to voice mail, he jogged around the side of the house, intent on using the outside stairs. Surely she would’ve texted him if she’d decided to go somewhere. He’d promised to come back as soon as he’d showered and changed. Even while off duty, a Marine was required to be clean-shaven.

  He mounted the wooden stairs and rapped on the door. There were no signs of movement through the windows.

  He tried her cell again. A muted ring came from somewhere inside the apartment. If she was able to, she would’ve picked up.

  A heavy sense of dread invaded him. Why had the deputy abandoned his post? And where was Tori?

  Pivoting, he crossed to the deck railing. Green lawn stretched to trees and knee-high grass. A brook dissected her property with that of her neighbor’s behind her. To the right was a vacant, thickly wooded lot. Barbara had said that vagrants sometimes used the lot as a spot to camp. They didn’t get away with it for long, since the residents on that street kept a sharp eye out.

  He scanned the entire lot and didn’t at first notice anything out of place. Then a flash of color in the midst of the monotonous greens and browns. Holding back a shout, he leaned over the railing as far as he dared. It looked like a man with a woman tossed over his shoulder. The flash of color he’d glimpsed was pale blond hair.

  Tori.

  He flew down the stairs and raced across the lawn, toward the trees. Please, God. Please let her be okay. Please don’t let him take her.

  The stranger must’ve heard his boots splashing in the brook, because he whipped around to track the sounds. Beneath the bill of his baseball hat, his eyes widened and then narrowed.

  The sight of Tori’s limp body filled Cade with desperate rage.

  “Let her go,” he growled, pushing his legs faster.

  “Stop! Police!”

  Coming from the direction of Kenneth’s, Deputy Clark joined the chase, his weapon drawn.

  The man ignored the deputy’s order and continued his bid for escape. When he emerged onto the street, yards from what had to be the getaway car, fear seized Cade. The perp had a solid head start and didn’t seem to be letting the extra weight slow him down.

  In the next heartbeat, he had the side door open.

  They weren’t going to reach her in time.

  Sliding to a stop, Cade removed his weapon and, releasing the safety, shot out the taillight. Far enough away from Tori that she wouldn’t be in danger of being hit by a ricochet bullet, but close enough to serve as a warning to the perp.

  Clark was catching up. “Hold your fire, Staff Sergeant.”

  The stranger hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then he dumped Tori in the grass and dashed around the front, hopped inside and peeled out.

  Cade ran to her side and fell to his knees, gently turned her onto her back and smoothed the hair from her face. The paleness of her lips and skin frightened him, but she was warm and breathing.

  She was alive.

  Thank You, Jesus.

  “Tori? Wake up, sweetheart. Talk to me.”

  There was zero indication she’d heard him. Whatever that man had done to her had knocked her out cold.

  “We need an ambulance,” he ground out. “Now.”

  The deputy joined them. “On their way. In the meantime, I’ll need your weapon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He handed the small Jetfire over, not taking his eyes from Tori.

  “I don’t condone what you did,” he said, “but your actions saved her life.”

  “Where were you?” he demanded, giving voice to the question nagging him. Why hadn’t Clark stayed at his post?

  “Someone called in a tip about an intruder a few doors down, drawing me away from my vehicle.”

  He dragged his gaze away from Tori’s motionless form. “Did you find anything?”

  “No. Either someone really did see the perp wandering the neighborhood—”

  “Or it was the perp who called, deliberately leaving Tori alone and vulnerable to attack.”

  SIX

  An incessant beeping roused Tori. The ache in her head begged it to stop.

  She blinked against the harsh light overhead. What was that stinging sensation in the back of her hand?

  Memories cascaded into her mind, one after the other. That man. Brandon. He’d drugged her.

  An acrid taste coated her mouth, and her stomach lurched. What else had he done?

  A man’s hand engulfed hers. “You’re at the hospital, Tori. You’re going to be okay.”

  “Cade.” Fear’s tentacles eased its grip.

  She felt him shift, and the light went out. “The nurse said you might have a headache. That better?”

  She forced her eyes open. They were in a nondescript hospital room lit only by sunlight bleeding through the blinds. An IV tube was connected to her hand, which explained the discomfort.

  Cade had pulled a chair as close as possible. While his words had exuded confidence, his eyes told another story. He couldn’t hide his turmoil.

  “Tell me what happened,” she said, holding on to his hand as though it was a lifeline. His touch comforted her. Strengthened her.

  “When I got to your place, the cruiser was empty. I didn’t get a response from the main floor, so I went around to the apartment. I heard your phone ringing inside. That’s when I figured out something was wrong. Then I saw a man carrying you through the vacant lot.” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Deputy Clark and I got close enough to force him to leave you behind.”

  Tori squeezed her eyes shut to keep the tears from escaping. A prayer of gratitude winged upward. She didn’t want to think about where she’d be right now if God hadn’t sent help.

  Cade’s fingers stroked her cheek. “I won’t leave you again, Tori. I promise.”

  Battling to maintain her composure, she met his intense gaze. “This isn’t your fault. Brandon got to me because I was naive.”

  Like she’d been with Patrick. Accepting the man at face value, unaware of the complications underneath the surface.

  “His name is Brandon? Did he give you a last name?”

  “Probably not his real name. And no, he didn’t. He said he was with the alarm company. Somehow, he knew I’d requested the work on the windows. He was wearing an official-looking uniform.”

  Picturing his face, those insidious gray eyes and sneering mouth, made her break out in a cold sweat. Cade got up and retrieved a non-caffeinated soda and pack of crackers from the sink counter. He used the buttons to ease her bed into a sitting position and popped the lid. She sipped greedily, thirstier than she’d realized.

  “What happened once he was inside?”

  “We went upstairs and I showed him the layout of the apartment. He started in my room.” She licked her dry, cracked lips. “I was in the living room when I started to feel strange. When he confronted me, I realized he’d dumped something in my coffee. I left it unattended for a few minutes.”

  Cade looked ill. “What then?”

  “He grabbed me. Kept me from screaming.” She wouldn’t soon dispel the sensation of his breath on her neck, his arms imprisoning her. “I tried to summon the strength to get free, but I was so weak.”

  “It was the drug, Tori.”

  “I can’t remember anything else. It’s a blank.”

  Cade began to pace. “An anonymous caller lured Deputy Clark away with a report of a prowler a couple of houses down. He didn’t find anything suspicious. At this time, w
e can’t confirm whether or not it was a ploy.”

  “What if Brandon’s not working alone?”

  “I don’t care if there’s an entire regiment after you.” He gritted his teeth, his eyes turning fierce. “No one’s going to hurt you again, because they won’t be allowed to come near you.”

  “You’ve already gotten shot because of me. I can’t let you continue to put yourself in danger. Besides, you can’t babysit me every minute of the day.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  * * *

  Cade wasn’t going anywhere. Not willingly, anyway.

  “I have leave saved up. I’ll use it all if I have to.”

  “Cade, no. I can’t let you do that—”

  “Already done.” He’d made the call and asked for a two-week vacation. Fortunately, his command had agreed despite the short notice. The paperwork would be ready on Monday for him to sign. “You’re stuck with me.”

  She bent her head, her tousled blond locks slipping forward to skim her jaws. “I’ve always been able to count on you,” she said softly. “But it’s been a long time since we were close.”

  He resumed his seat. Avoiding the IV, he splayed his fingers atop her forearm. “That doesn’t mean you stopped being important to me.”

  Putting her fingertips to her lips, she blinked away the moisture and pretended to be engrossed in the informational posters on the wall.

  “I owe you an apology, Victoria.”

  That got her attention. He only called her by her full name when things were serious. Like when he’d kissed her for the first time. And when he’d proposed.

  “I’ve been meaning to since you got home, but then bullets started flying and I got distracted.”

  “You already apologized in your letters.”

  He sat up straighter. “You read those?”

  “I considered answering but couldn’t find the right words. And then you stopped writing.”

  “That’s because I saw how happy you were with your friends, and I couldn’t ruin the new life you’d built.”

  Beneath his hand, she shifted her arm closer to her body. “What do you mean you saw me?”

  He let go. “After graduating boot camp, I drove to Knoxville.” He remembered that trip like it happened yesterday. Nervous to the point of being sick, he’d offered up desperate prayers with each passing mile. “Your mom told me which dorm you were in.”

  “She never mentioned it to me.”

  “I asked her not to.”

  Confusion swirled in the green depths. “Why?”

  “I hurt you. Made you miserable. Drove you from North Carolina and your family.” He shook his head. “Seeing you that day, I made the choice to accept your original decision.”

  He’d often wondered if he’d made the right one. It wasn’t his habit to give up on something he believed in. And he’d believed in them.

  “I should’ve handled things differently,” he said. “I should’ve discussed my desire to enlist with you before walking into that recruiter’s office.”

  “Even if you had, we would’ve still been at an impasse.” Sadness marked her features. “I’m not military-wife material.”

  He disagreed. Tori was resilient, independent and loyal, crucial traits that would aid in the success of a military marriage. But he wasn’t going to argue the matter. He’d developed a somewhat wary view of married life himself, thanks to the breakup of his close friend Brett’s marriage and the struggles some of the younger married men endured.

  Someone knocked and Tori flinched. Cade stationed himself between her and the door. Only when he recognized Angela Reagan, their former classmate and a close friend of Tori’s, did he let himself relax.

  “Cade.” If she was surprised to see him there, she didn’t show it. She lifted a bouquet wrapped in plastic. “I come bearing gifts.”

  Stepping aside, he watched as the women hugged.

  Tori buried her nose in the pastel blooms. “These are beautiful, Ang.”

  “I thought they might cheer you up.” Her thick black braid swinging between her shoulder blades, she perused the information written in marker on the board across from the bed. “The blood tests confirmed what we suspected. It was GHB, or liquid ecstasy. Odorless. Colorless. Fast acting.”

  Fury over what she’d endured flushed through him again. Her attacker had been bold enough to walk right through her front door. And confident of his success.

  But what were his motives? Why risk moving her to another location?

  Another visitor arrived then. Dr. Marcellus Beaumont, a highly respected surgeon in his early thirties who’d transferred to North Carolina from Southern Florida. Cade hadn’t met the gentleman, but he’d read about him in the newspaper when he’d first arrived. He’d also seen him with Angela at area restaurants. They’d looked cozy together.

  “Marcellus, I thought you were in surgery for several more hours.” Angela slipped her arm through his, and the overhead fluorescent light bounced off the diamond sparkler on her finger. Ah, so it was serious.

  “We had to postpone. My patient failed to stop his blood thinner as instructed.” Marcellus addressed Tori. “Are they taking adequate care of you down here?”

  “They’ve been nothing but efficient and kind.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He turned to Cade with an outstretched hand. His dark eyes spoke of keen intelligence and compassion. “You must be Staff Sergeant McMann. Angela mentioned the three of you attended high school together.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Cade shook his hand, glancing between the doctor and nurse. “I see congratulations are in order.”

  “Thank you.” The surge of pride and contentment in Marcellus’s expression belied his serious demeanor. “I’m a fortunate man.”

  Angela’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “You say that now,” she teased. “Wait until we’ve been married six months and you get tired of eating sandwiches and canned soup.”

  “I was aware of your aversion to the kitchen when I proposed. If you’ll see to the laundry, I’ll see to the meals.”

  “It’s a deal.”

  Cade used to daydream about married life with Tori. The couple’s banter reawakened slumbering wishes. Impossible dreams of spending every day and night with the woman he’d loved. Building a life together. A family. Stringing memories together to last forever.

  “When’s the big day?” he asked, refocusing on what was real, not fantasy.

  “October,” Angela gushed. “You’re invited, of course.”

  Marcellus nodded. “Our engagement party is coming up. You’re welcome to join us.”

  “You can’t say no to a night of good food and music.” Angela’s enthusiasm dimmed. “Tori, you’re still coming, right?”

  “I don’t know, Ang.”

  “You’re in the wedding party. This is a chance to celebrate. To let loose and be silly. Plus, you’ll get to know the other bridesmaids better.”

  Unhappiness tugged at her mouth. Studiously avoiding Cade’s gaze, she said, “I’ll do my best to be there.”

  After the couple left, he couldn’t help cautioning her. “You’re aware that your ability to attend rides on whether or not we’ve caught this guy.”

  She nodded somberly. “I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint her.”

  Angela’s and Tori’s disappointment he could handle. What he couldn’t stomach was the prospect of almost losing Tori again to this lowlife. Deputy Claxton interrupted them, as unflappable as ever.

  “Here’s what we know,” he said, not bothering with small talk. “Clark got a partial plate on the perp’s Mustang. That will take a while to run down. We contacted the alarm company, and they confirmed that no one matching Brandon’s description works for them. They also said their guy logged your address at twenty past ten but wasn’t heard from aga
in. Deputy Hanson located the company van at the far end of your street and found the real employee—a Terrence Grayson—trussed and gagged in the back. And he was missing his uniform shirt and tool kit. We’re interviewing him now.”

  Tori turned the soda can in an endless circle. “I assumed Brandon was current or former military. He had the haircut, the stance and a Marine tattoo.”

  Claxton notated her description in his pad. “You mentioned seeing a man at the park right before the shooting. He had a tattoo, as well. Do you have reason to believe it’s the same man?”

  “I don’t know. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt this time. And I didn’t get a good look at the first guy’s face.”

  “The shell casings we found belonged to an AR-15.”

  “A weapon military personnel are familiar with,” Cade said.

  “Miss James, we need to do a check of your person and see if we can find evidence of his DNA.”

  “I remember struggling with him. I might’ve scratched him, but I’m not sure.”

  “We’ll also be sending in a sketch artist.”

  She pulled the thin sheet up to cover where the tubing was attached to her hand. “Can we make it quick? Because I don’t plan on hanging around here all day.”

  Claxton shot Cade a quizzical look before replacing his pad in his pocket. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Cade moved to the end of her bed. She spoke before he could.

  “I’m fine. Well, not fine, but I can recuperate at home.” She caught herself, her brows crashing together. “I can’t go home, can I?”

  “The police are probably still there, searching for prints or hair or anything else the attacker left behind.”

  “He’s arrogant, not stupid. I think he’ll crawl into a hole for a while. In the meantime, I’ll have to stay in a hotel. I won’t endanger my mom or Angela.”

  The idea didn’t sit well with Cade. “Stay with me.”

  Refusal immediately brewed on her lips.

  “You’ll have the upstairs to yourself. I’ll sleep on the living room couch.” He considered offering Jason a room, too, but he didn’t need to be involved.