by Lisa Regan
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“Are you okay?”
She stood upright, fighting a wave of dizziness, and swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand. “I’m fine. How is June?”
“She’s catatonic.”
“What do you mean?”
Ray continued to look at her like he was face to face with a wild animal. He reached out as if to touch her and then shrunk back when she glared at him. “I mean, she’s catatonic,” he said. “The lights are on but no one’s home. She won’t talk, won’t react or respond. When you look into her eyes, it’s like she’s looking right through you. But the doctor said she’s neurologically intact.”
Josie reached up with both hands and attempted to smooth down her hair as she tried to comprehend. She really needed a hot shower and some coffee. “Where is she now?”
“Denton Memorial. She’s in good shape, they said. Physically. Strong, actually. This pervert must have fed her pretty well. But they had to check her out. Do a rape kit and all,” Ray said.
She dropped her hands, leaned against the doorjamb. She needed water. She wanted to sit down, brush her teeth, change her clothes, and take some Alka-Seltzer, but she didn’t want to invite Ray in. “Who was he?”
“Donald Drummond. He lived in a house across town, on 7th Street. Used to be his mother’s house. After he got out of prison, he lived with her there till she passed.”
Josie knew the name, and the street. She kept a mental list of all the registered sex offenders in Denton, and her own list of suspicious men. “The big guy?”
“Yeah, huge. Almost seven feet tall, and not lean muscle, that’s for sure.”
“Did he go willingly?”
She was trying to imagine how many Denton police officers it must have taken to cuff Donald Drummond when Ray said, “No, he didn’t. Chief shot him in the chest. Took three rounds to take him down.”
She didn’t feel bad for him; she only wished she had been there to see it, that she had been first through the door. The department must be in dire straits if the chief had been on the scene. She’d been on the Denton PD for five years and had never seen him outside the station house except for the holiday party, and the couple of times he’d gone to get his ATV so he could lend it to the department.
“Holy shit,” was all she could muster.
Ray gave her something between a smile and a grimace. “Yeah, it was intense.”
“Where was she? Where was he keeping her?”
“Second-floor bedroom. He had it outfitted like a cell. Reinforced. She never had a chance. Chief’s got a bunch of people tearing the place apart looking for others.”
She shifted her weight, trying to relieve her injured leg which throbbed no matter how she stood. She was going to need something stronger than ibuprofen soon. Maybe more tequila. “Others?”
“Yeah, like in the yard and shit. They’re waiting on cadaver dogs now. We have to dig the whole yard up, make sure there are no bodies buried back there. Chief’s worried maybe he took Isabelle Coleman too.”
“Was there anything fresh in the backyard? Like he was digging back there recently?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
Of course there wasn’t. It didn’t make sense. This guy had kept June for a year. Isabelle had been missing for six days. Why would he dispose of her so soon if he was a collector? No, Isabelle had been abducted by someone else. Which only increased the nausea roiling in Josie’s stomach. Ray looked like he might try to touch her again. “You know, you can invite me in. I don’t have to be back for two more hours.”
Josie raised a hand as if to ward him off. “No,” she told him. “I don’t want you in here.” The hurt on his face stirred up some guilt for her until she remembered exactly why she didn’t want him in her house in the first place. “If you’ve got two hours, why aren’t you spending it with your girlfriend? The only way I’m letting you into this house is to sign the divorce papers.”
He looked at the ground. “It’s just, I needed to talk to you about me and Misty, especially after what you did last night.”
Rage shot through her. “That’s all you care about, isn’t it? Never mind everything that’s going on in this town. All you care about is your girlfriend and making sure I leave her alone. Yet, you won’t sign the papers. I don’t get you, Ray. Why are you doing this? I did nothing wrong. Nothing! Why are you doing this to me?”
Her voice had become unusually high-pitched and loud. Unbidden tears stung her eyes, spilling onto her cheeks and making her humiliation complete. She reached out and used both hands to shove his chest as hard as she could. “I hate you!” she screamed.
He didn’t fall, he didn’t turn or walk away. He absorbed the force of her hands and let it push him back a couple of steps, and then he stepped forward again, offering his chest. He kept his hands at his sides, not bothering to block her blows. She shoved him a few more times and he took it. He kept his eyes cast downward, a gesture of humility. She needed to push and he let her. That he still knew what she needed, and gave it to her willingly, only made her feel worse. Her hands fell to her sides. She felt deflated, sick, and more exhausted than she could ever remember feeling. Bile and tequila burned the back of her throat.
“Go away, Ray.”
They were halfway down her driveway. He picked up his hat and walked toward the street where his car was parked. “Maybe another time,” he muttered.
He got to the end of the driveway, his hand on his door handle, before turning back to her. “Wait a minute,” he said. “You already knew who June Spencer was, didn’t you?”
She said nothing.
His hand dropped away. “How did you know?”
She refused to answer.
“Jo,” he said. “Tell me you haven’t been running your own investigation.”
“I found an acrylic nail near the Coleman’s mailbox,” she said.
He shook his head. “Jo. Jesus.”
“It’s pink—hot pink—with yellow stripes. I’ll send you a picture later.”
“Don’t,” he said. He pointed a finger at her. “Don’t do anything else. The chief will have your ass if he finds out. I told you about June Spencer as a courtesy, because I knew you’d see it on the news later and call me, and because Dirk Spencer was in the car that almost killed you yesterday. But I’m telling you right now to stop.”
She went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You should find out whose it is—Isabelle’s, her mother’s, a searcher’s? Isabelle wore acrylic nails—I saw photos of her and her friends on her Facebook page. Apparently, she and her friends got their nails done regularly. Anyway, it could be important.”
“I mean it, Jo. You need to stop this. For your own good. Go inside and get some rest. Then call Luke. Take a trip. Get a Netflix subscription. Something. But for God’s sake, leave the Coleman thing alone.”
Chapter Fourteen
The state police barracks that Luke was assigned to lay twenty-three miles outside of Denton on a stretch of two-lane road where the speed limit was fifty-five miles an hour. It was a squat, flat-roofed building flanked by forest on three sides. The next closest building of any kind was two miles away. Josie had been there many times and was always struck by the isolation of the place and its utilitarian feel. Every Christmas and Fourth of July, some of the guys would try to punch the place up a bit with decorations bought at the closest Walmart. Usually the multicolored lights and gaudy gold tinsel hung outside the entrance until sometime in June, the tinsel sagging and threadbare by that time, when it was replaced by patriotic fringe garland and big red white and blue bows. Those would remain until Halloween, and from mid-October through Thanksgiving, a lone pumpkin atop a small, decorative bale of hay would guard the stoop. It was better than nothing, she supposed, but it didn’t make the place look any less depressing.
She didn’t know how Luke could stand it. She loved the old, historic three-story building that housed the Denton police department; it used to be
the town hall but had been converted to the police station sixty years ago. It was huge and gray, with ornate molding over its many double-casement arched windows and an old bell tower at one corner. It looked almost like a castle. With each season and holiday, someone from the historical society would come around and dress the place up. It had character. Josie missed it.
She was thinking about her desk on the second floor as she pulled into the barracks parking lot. Two cruisers sat in the lot along with a handful of personal vehicles, including Luke’s white Ford F-150. She knew he would be there. The day before, while she was outside melting down in front of Ray, he’d left her four text messages and three voicemails, each one more frantic than the last. By the time she located her cell phone and called him back, he was ready to send a SWAT team to check on her. He hadn’t been able to get away from work, but he was clearly very worried about her. He asked if she’d gone to the hospital to have her leg checked out and sounded annoyed when she told him she hadn’t. It took everything in her not to snap at him.
“I really need to get some rest,” she’d said instead, hoping her tone came across less irritable than she felt.
She’d taken a hot shower, turned on her coffeemaker and then slept for twelve straight hours. When she finally awoke to even more missed messages, she had promised to meet him at the barracks for lunch the next day.
She felt a frisson of excitement as he slipped through the double doors to meet her. He was in full uniform and she knew what waited for her beneath. The thought of him naked woke her up more than the pot of coffee she had consumed before she’d left the house.
With a smile, he leaned into her open window. “Ma’am,” he said with mock formality. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
She grinned at him. “I don’t know, officer, but I’m hoping for a full cavity search.”
He leaned down to kiss her as she got out of the car, wrapping her in his long arms and gathering her into him. It was long, slow and tender, as always. Her body responded to him, a thunderous need rising inside her. She wanted his mouth on her body, his hands. She wanted him to blot out the frustration of the last two days. She kissed him harder, biting his lower lip lightly.
“Whoa,” he said, pushing her away gently.
Releasing her completely, he gave her a quizzical smile and studied her face. “What was that about? You okay?”
She hoped her smile didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “Fine,” she said. “I missed you.”
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“I’m fine, but I could really have used some company the last two days.”
One of his hands found hers, his fingers stroking her palm and sliding over the band of the engagement ring she’d remembered to wear. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.
She raised a brow. “When?”
He laughed. “Starting now. I wanted to take you to lunch.”
But she didn’t want to go to lunch. She didn’t need food. She didn’t need to talk about her feelings. She needed him. Lacing her fingers through his, she tugged him away from her car and the parking lot, toward the thickest copse of woods she could find surrounding the barracks. Reluctantly, he let her lead him. “Josie,” he said. “What’s going on? Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” she said over her shoulder.
They picked their way over branches and rocks. Every few feet, she glanced over her shoulder, ignoring the look of confusion and concern blanketing Luke’s face, to check if any part of the barracks was still visible. When the building finally disappeared from view, she stopped walking and turned to Luke.
“What are we doing out here?” he asked.
Her jacket dropped to the forest floor, followed by her faded Rascal Flatts T-shirt and bra. Luke didn’t speak, but he smiled nervously as she kicked off her boots and unzipped her pants. His hands were on his hips. “You’re bat-shit crazy, you know that?” he said, but his eyes roved greedily over her body as she stripped off the rest of her clothes.
“I don’t see you running away,” she challenged.
His voice was husky. “Never.” His gaze moved from her breasts to her leg, which she had had the good sense to wrap with an ACE bandage that morning. “How’s your leg?”
“It’s fine.”
He nodded, continuing to stare. “You’re pretty bruised up. You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” she replied, a tinge of impatience creeping into her voice.
He glanced around briefly. “We’re in the middle of the woods.”
“I know.”
She knew these woods, she trusted them. She and Ray had been exploring them since they were nine years old. They’d even named a few places where there were distinctive cliffs, valleys, or rock formations. There were few places in the county she hadn’t scoured. This was a more private place than either one of their vehicles.
Luke started to unsnap his holster belt. It was secured to his pants belt by four belt keepers and held his SIG P227, baton, mace, handcuffs, and portable radio. “You have any idea how long it takes to get this damn thing on and off?”
Her eyes narrowed and she licked her lips.
He stopped unfastening his belt, looking suddenly confused, as though he didn’t recognize the woman before him. “What’s going on with you?”
She strode toward him. “Shut up,” she said, yanking at the keepers and divesting him of his belts. She dropped them onto the ground beside them. He was still looking at her like she was a stranger. Before he could speak, she rocked up onto her toes and captured his mouth, kissing him hungrily. Her hands tore at his zipper.
Luke gripped her upper arms, breaking the kiss but keeping her close to his body. “Josie,” he rasped, searching her face.
“Make it up to me, Luke,” she said, her tone a challenge. “Right here, right now.”
For a long, pregnant moment, her command hung in the air above their heads. She wondered if he was going to shut her down. She plunged her hand into his pants and took hold of him. Regardless of what his brain was telling him, his body was ready for her. “Do it,” she said. The next thing she knew his pants were around his ankles and her back was against a tree. He lifted and held her there as if she weighed nothing, pushing inside her with a gentle firmness that quickly turned urgent. The bark of the tree scraped into her back, hard and rhythmic, smarting against her earlier injuries.
“Harder,” she breathed into his ear as the pain went from sharp to exquisite and exhilarating, blotting out every other feeling in her mind and her body. As her own body tightened around him, she let out a long cry of pleasure. This, she could always count on. As they walked back to her car, disheveled, sweaty and satisfied, Josie felt more clear-headed than she had in days.
Chapter Fifteen
They ate at a diner a few miles from the barracks but in the opposite direction from Denton. It was a relief to be somewhere else for a while. Josie ordered a half-pound cheeseburger with fries and a side of mozzarella sticks. Sex always made her ravenous, made her buzz with energy. She felt like she could do anything. Ray always said that’s what cocaine was like. They’d taken a break from one another in college—she had tried other men and he had tried drugs. Sex with Luke had always been good but never near what it had been like with Ray. Until today. She felt high, like she was on top of the world with no chance of falling off.
Across from her, Luke picked at his own burger and used the longest French fry on his plate to marshal the smaller fries into formation.
“Something on your mind?” she asked.
He didn’t look up. “Ray sign those papers?”
“Not yet. You know he’s busy with the Coleman case, and now with this Spencer thing…”
At the mention of June Spencer, he looked up at her. “I heard about that. Crazy shit. Did you hear her uncle is still holding on?”
She hadn’t. “Has he said anything?”
Luke
shook his head. “No. Still in a coma. They didn’t find anything useful on his phone either. A few texts between him and the driver arranging the pick-up, but that doesn’t tell us anything we don’t already know. Word from your department is that they can’t even locate his next of kin.”
“He has a sister in Philadelphia.”
“Yeah, she’s AWOL. No one can find her.”
“So, June Spencer has no one.” It was a statement, not a question. June would be released from the hospital eventually and Josie wondered where she would go. Dirk’s house was her home, but if she was as out of it as Ray had said, she would need someone to care for her. She wondered if Solange would take the girl in, and then decided no. Solange didn’t have that kind of grit.
Luke shrugged. “Unless her uncle recovers or her mom turns up, I guess. Don’t know.”
“Anything new on the shootout?”
He took a bite of his cheeseburger and then placed it back on the plate and wiped his hands on a napkin. “Not much. We had some of our guys in Philly notify next of kin and do some interviews but no one is talking. Big surprise there. We have no idea who was shooting at them, but we do know that they were traveling west. They’d gotten on at the Bowersville exit.”
Josie frowned. “That’s the closest exit to Dirk Spencer’s house,” she said. “So they picked him up and got onto the interstate there. But where were they headed? The next exit is Denton—where they got off at the Stop and Go. They were traveling away from Philadelphia and the next decent-sized town is almost two hundred miles away.”
“Don’t know,” Luke said. “We may never know. Unless Dirk wakes up and can tell us. I’m sure they only got off the interstate at the Denton exit because they were getting shot at.”
“Makes sense,” Josie said. “Not many places to hide on the interstate. Any idea where the shooting started?”
“Looks like about halfway between the exits. We found rounds about three miles from the Bowersville entrance ramp.”
So they got on Route 80 and drove for three miles before the shooting started. It was two more miles to the exit where they’d gotten off, already badly wounded and in trouble. “I wonder if they were being pursued before they even got on the interstate. Maybe that’s why they got on the interstate, so they could get away fast without drawing much attention.”