The doctor entered and introduced himself to Alex. “It’s an honor to meet you. I hear you’re a hero. Caught a murderer right outside our doors.”
Alex rejected the praise. “It was a group effort.”
“Well, I’m thankful just the same.” He shook Olivia’s hand. “I watch you every evening, Ms. Larrson.”
“Olivia, please.”
He removed an envelope from under his arm and tipped it to slide out an x-ray. He inserted the black and white film into a lighted box on the wall behind the bed. “Let’s see what we have here.” He slipped on a pair of glasses and studied the results. “Yep, looks like a hairline crack right here.” He indicated the small white line. He turned to them and removed his glasses. “Nothing serious. I’ll prescribe pain medication which I strongly recommend you take.”
“Shouldn’t we wrap it with a compression bandage?” Olivia asked.
“No,” the doctor said. “That used to be standard procedure, but he needs to be able to breathe deeply so he doesn’t develop pneumonia. We don’t recommend it anymore. If you have excessive pain or problems breathing, come back in immediately.”
The doctor shook their hands again and left. A nurse returned with a prescription and after signing a few forms, they were released. Sawyer was waiting for them, along with Roddy and Phil. They both hugged her and fawned all over her.
“Word of the shooting got out and Mr. Prescott sent us to get the story. He wanted us to bring Jinger to do the report but we refused.”
“This is your story, Olivia,” Phil said, taking both of her hands. “I know you probably don’t feel like going live in front of a camera, but it should be you.”
“I don’t know…” She was literally exhausted and crashing from an adrenalin rush. But this had been her story from the beginning. She turned to Alex. “Do you mind?”
“Babe, if you feel up to it, you should definitely do it.”
“I’ll frighten any children watching looking like this.” She fingered her cheek, which was turning a pretty shade of purple.
Alex grabbed her head between his hands and gazed into her eyes. “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.” Then he kissed her. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Good grief, she was turning into a babbling ninny.
Gathering her composure, they made their way outside to the scene of the crime, now buzzing with emergency personnel. Yellow tape had been strung around the area to keep onlookers back. Olivia touched up her makeup and hair as best she could. She accepted the microphone from Roddy and when he gave her the okay, she looked into the camera and told the story to the world.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Alex’s chest ached and his cheek throbbed, even his stitches burned, but he’d never felt better in his life. Olivia loved him. Maybe her admission had been in the heat of the moment, but she’d said it none the less.
While she was on air telling the story, he’d placed a call to her parents to let them know she was okay. He knew she hadn’t had a chance to do so and they would be worried…as would his family. He called them next and had to talk to his mom, dad and sister to reassure them all he was good. After that was taken care of, he phoned his bosses and gave them the details. Several other news stations had rolled to the scene, trying to get the scoop. Trent Charles had been bagged and tagged and carted away.
They were each questioned and their injuries photographed. Security cameras on the outside of the hospital as well as the dash camera from the police car caught the exchange of gunfire. There would be no question that the shooting of Trent Charles was justified. Not to mention the heinous acts he admitted to on tape.
Sawyer was sitting on a curb off to the side, his head down. It was never easy to use lethal force, no matter the circumstances. Alex dropped to sit beside him. “You okay?”
Sawyer lifted his head and stared forward. He nodded. “If it was my bullet that killed him, I’m fine with it.”
“I wish I’d have gotten a shot at him.” Alex’s blood boiled thinking of all the attempts Charles made on Olivia’s life and the bruise blooming on her cheek.
Benson ambled over. “You know how Charles said on the taped confession that he was going to set up his roommate to take the fall?” When they both nodded, he said, “We sent patrol to their apartment and found said roommate hanging from the ceiling, a,” he made air quotes, “suicide note typed on his computer. At least he had the decency to reveal the location of Laurie Spellman’s body so her family can finally lay her to rest.”
“It still doesn’t make sense to me that they targeted Olivia,” Sawyer said.
“The roommate, Ray Smith, was on anti-psychotic drugs that he apparently didn’t take regularly. Cops found full bottles of his medication dated months ago. Plus, he mixed them with narcotics and alcohol, both scattered liberally around the apartment. Made him paranoid. Trent Charles was just a straight-up sociopath.”
“You know what really bothers me?” Alex scrubbed both hands down his face and sighed. “We got the guys targeting Olivia, but the Vigilante is still out there. When this story gets out, what if more crazies think they can try the same thing? Her life will be in danger until the guy is caught.”
Benson sighed. “Speaking of…the video Olivia taped earlier aired a little while ago. We should be getting the info on the bodies.”
As if on cue, Olivia walked over with Detective Kramer. She held up her phone. “The latest location.”
#
By the time they located the bodies and Olivia gave a brief report, it was the early hours of the morning. They all stumbled into the hotel like zombies. Sawyer bid them goodnight and plodded to his room. Alex had just enough energy to sweep Olivia into his arms and carry her to the bedroom. He ignored both her small protest and the larger one from his cracked rib. Gently placing her on the bed, he followed her down. He grasped her head between his hands. He had to grit his teeth every time he looked at the bruise on her cheek. He wanted to kill Trent Charles all over again. Dragging his gaze away, he looked into her beautiful eyes. “I love you, Olivia.”
Those baby blues welled. “I love you, too, Alex.”
“I’m sorry I let you down.”
Olivia cried out and pushed at him. He fell to the mattress beside her and managed to stifle a groan when the cracked rib objected to the move. She rolled to face him. “What are you talking about? You saved my life—again.”
“I let him get to you.” He gently ran a thumb over her cheek. “He hit you. He held a gun to your head.”
“Alex, I’m the one that insisted I go in that room alone. You wanted to come with me but I wouldn’t let you. That’s on me. But when I needed you, you were there. Now quit being a freaking martyr and kiss me.”
She didn’t wait for him to make the first move. She pressed her lips to his and he sighed at the exquisite contact. When he would’ve deepened it, she pulled away. He tried to follow her but she stopped him with a hand. “As much as I want to be with you tonight, you’re hurt.” He tried to object but she shushed him. “I love you Alex and I just want you to hold me.”
He really wanted to argue with her…yes, his rib was cracked but other parts of his body worked just fine. Instead, he gathered her close and held on to her. If he had his way, he’d never let her go again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Alex pushed a cart carrying boxes and packing supplies to Olivia’s apartment. It’d been a long night and even longer morning and the last thing she needed to do was return to the scene where her roommate had been brutally murdered, but her lease was up and they needed to move her out. Faye had offered her the small studio space above her gym.
The owners of the building would’ve probably extended her lease a few days after all that transpired, but Olivia wanted out as soon as possible. Darla’s parents hadn’t wanted to save any of her things except for mementos. All of her clothes, shoes and her mattress were being donated to a battered women’s shelter. The other items would be given to a veterans’ organiza
tion.
Olivia opened her mailbox and he was incredibly relieved there was no envelope from the Vigilante. If this person was a friend of Olivia’s and had seen the danger she’d been subjected to because of the case, maybe it would force him or her to quit the killings.
They stopped to visit Carl and were happy to see he was looking and feeling better. Olivia had wanted to pick up a cake for them, but she wasn’t sure what Carl’s diet might be after his heart scare. She decided on a basket with an assortment of fresh fruit. Alex met Mary for the first time and he just wanted to wrap the delicate woman in a hug. Both Carl and Mary were worried for Olivia and were relieved the men terrorizing her had been caught. Carl Junior was at work but Alex spoke with him earlier about their plans to move Olivia out today. With hugs and handshakes, they said goodbye to the Marshalls and headed for the elevator.
Alex waited for her to exit before he pushed the cart out on her floor. “Are you sure you’re okay going in?”
“Not really, but it has to be done.”
They stopped in front of her unit and he stuck the key in the lock. When he eased the door open, he was relieved to see Carl Junior had replaced the blood-soaked carpet just as he had assured Alex he’d done. The apartment smelled like ammonia and disinfectant. The guy had been busy.
Olivia took a deep breath and entered, skirting around the area where her roommate died. She stopped in the middle of the living room and glanced around. “I’m going to miss it here.”
He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her middle. “Are you sure you want to do this today?”
She clutched his arms and nodded. “There are only bad memories now.”
He kissed the top of her head and released her. “I’ll pack up Darla’s room.”
“Thank you.”
He’d just grabbed a couple of boxes when Olivia called out to him. “You are not to lift anything heavy. Leave the boxes on the floor for the movers to pick up. If your rib starts to hurt, promise me you’ll stop.”
He smiled indulgently. “I promise.”
He constructed several large boxes and carried three to Olivia’s room. He took the other three to Darla’s room. One would be for items he thought her parents might want, the others for donation. He looked around the room, trying to decide where to start and settled on the closet. Darla had a ton of clothes. He took everything off the hangers and folded them as best he could. The box filled fast and he grabbed another. The shoes went next. He found one of the shoeboxes filled with mementos and added it to the container for her family. Once he finished, he moved to her small dresser. He felt like a voyeur opening her underwear drawer but he quickly sorted bras into the donation box and undies in a big black trash bag. Socks were next and then another drawer filled with junk. He had no way of knowing what was important, so he added the entire contents to her parents’ carton.
He moved to the bedside table and removed the clock radio to add to the donation pile. He used bubble wrap to secure the lamp and added it as well. He opened the drawer and jerked as if it shocked him. And it did. The thing was packed with sex toys of every shape and color. Fuzzy handcuffs, a whip, damn, Darla had a kinky side.
“What’s wrong?”
He jerked his gaze up to see Olivia standing in the doorway.
He cleared his throat. “Uh, nothing, why?” He shoved the drawer closed with his hip. No sense in Olivia knowing about her roommate’s proclivities.
“You ‘gah-ed’ pretty loudly.”
“Oh, well…”
Olivia padded into the room. He moved to block her progress. “You doing okay, sweetheart?”
“Fine and don’t try to distract me.” She moved around him and opened the drawer.
“Gah!” She yanked her fingers back.
“I tried to stop you.”
“My God, she has more toys than that shop on Seventh Avenue.” She spun around. “I can’t look.”
He guided her back outside and brushed a kiss over her lips. “I’ll take care of it.”
She ran her hand up his cheek. “Thank you.” Another kiss, this one longer and deeper. Finally, he broke away to finish packing. He snapped open a black trash bag, placed it on the floor and then dumped the contents of the drawer inside, trying his hardest not to look.
Books took up the bottom shelf of the bedside table. He pulled the first one out. The Kama Sutra. Figured. He tossed it onto a box. The next book was on the techniques of tantric sex. In the box. The next one…another on tantric principles. Toss. How to Heighten a Woman’s Pleasure. Good grief, Olivia had shared an apartment with a certified nympho.
Almost everything in the bathroom was dumped in the trash bags. Used shampoo and soap. Toothbrushes and paste. Hair products. A jumbo box of condoms with only two foil packages left. Feminine products. He wondered if he should save those for the shelter and decided to add them to their box. They could discard them if it was inappropriate.
A hair dryer, makeup mirror and rug were placed in the donation boxes. He tossed all of the used towels and rags in a trash bag, but added them to the donation box. They were in good shape and after being washed, could be used again.
Olivia brought clothing she no longer wanted and added it to the boxes. Once they were full, Alex taped them up and scribbled the name of the organization they would be going to on top.
A sharp rap sounded and then Sawyer entered. He’d dropped them off earlier and went for more packing supplies. He wheeled the materials inside. “I’ll tackle the kitchen.”
Olivia pointed out which things were hers and what should be donated. Once Alex finished with Darla’s bedroom, he helped with the plates and glasses.
“So, did you find the naughty drawer?”
Alex fumbled a glass and almost dropped it.
Sawyer’s smile was broad. “You did.”
“How did you know about it?”
“I worked a lot of crime scenes during my career.” He removed a plate and wrapped it with newspaper before stacking it in the box. “Almost every single one had a naughty drawer.”
“Well, Darla had a doozy.”
“What did you do with the contraband?”
“Boxed it up for the women’s shelter. I figured once the women were settled, they’d want to take out their frustrations on the male population by hacking up a few penises.”
Sawyer’s jaw dropped open. “You did not.” Alex grinned and Sawyer chuckled.
The intercom buzzer sounded. Alex padded over to the panel by the door. “Yes?”
“Mr. Mylonas? It’s Marnie Dobbs from Hope Shelter.”
“Hi Ms. Dobbs. We’ve got the boxes ready. Come on up.” He pushed the button to unlock the main door and then propped open the one to the apartment.
“Knock, knock.” A woman with short, spiky red hair stuck her head inside. “Mr. Mylonas?”
“It’s Alex. Come in.”
Two men with dollies followed and they loaded up the boxes. After hauling them to their truck, they returned to load up Darla’s box spring and mattress. The third trip took the couch that Olivia no longer wanted, saying something about having Arlo’s butt prints embedded in the cushions.
Olivia was keeping a table and chair set and the bookcases from her room, along with her bed. The movers they hired to transport her things arrived and her boxes and furniture were loaded and carted away. Olivia called Faye, who would open the apartment for them to deliver the items.
Three men arrived from the veteran’s organization to pack up the remaining furniture and boxes. As they moved a table by the door, a flash of color caught his eye. Alex picked up the postcard from Olivia’s mentor Ernie Walters. Ernie had been a national icon, serving as the nightly news anchor for decades. He switched to a local New York affiliate for the last few years of his career but he was still as beloved. He flipped it over and smiled. Ernie visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame but said it was nothing compared to The Grand Ole Opry. He started to put the card down but something caught his eye. His
eyes narrowed. He padded to the counter where Olivia placed her mail earlier.
“What’s up,” Sawyer asked.
“I’m not sure.” He found the other post card and flipped it over. His heart thumped hard. “Take a look at these.” He handed the cards to Sawyer, who studied them intently.
“That’s strange,” Sawyer said, noting the same discrepancy Alex discovered.
Olivia came back into the room. “What’s up?”
Alex held up the postcard. “I found this behind the table by the door.”
She smiled and grabbed it. “Ohio. I wondered what happened to this one. I figured the post office lost it. Darla must’ve tossed it on the table and it fell behind.” She read the back with a grin.
“What did you do with all the other postcards?”
“They’re in my bag. Why?”
“Can I see them?”
Olivia’s brows furrowed. “Sure.” She grabbed her purse off the floor and pulled out the stack of postcards rubber-banded together. Alex took the bundle and removed the bind. He placed them picture side down on the counter.
“Sonofabitch,” he and Sawyer muttered at the same time.
“What is it?”
“Do you notice anything strange about these?” He pointed to the cards. She scrunched up her nose and shook her head.
“No, what?”
“Look at the postmark.”
Olivia squinted closer and then her eyes widened. “Oh my God. It’s the exact same.”
#
Olivia picked up two postcards to compare, then dropped one and chose another and then another. Most were smudged so you couldn’t read the city but it was obviously the same mark. She sat down hard and held up a handful of postcards. “What does this mean?”
“It could mean nothing,” Alex hedged.
“Or…”
“Or it could mean that he’s not on a cross-country trip.”
“But the postcards…”
“There’s a shop in Times Square where you can buy one from every state,” Sawyer informed them.
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