JUDGING ELLIE

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JUDGING ELLIE Page 26

by Catherine Snodgrass


  Without a word, Kurt retrieved the items from where they’d been tossed onto the kitchen floor, then started in on the task of righting her kitchen. Everything these people couldn’t see through was pitched to the floor. They’d even dumped out her canisters of flour, sugar, and coffee. The potted plants from Ellie’s kitchen window were smashed on the floor, knocked down when the intruders entered over the sill. Mixed in with the soil were telltale shards of glass. As Kurt swept the mess into the trash, he made a mental note to replace the window pane before Bernadette started a new round of bitching.

  He glanced at the clock perched on the opposite wall. They had hours of work left. If he didn’t go out and buy the glass now, they’d have to wait until morning and that didn’t set well with him. Obviously the glass wouldn’t hold a person determined to get in, but he needed the illusion of security.

  Kurt climbed upstairs to tell Ellie where he was going and found her kneeling in the middle of her clothes. One by one she tossed them into the laundry basket. She jumped when she saw him. A flush colored her cheeks. She quickly averted her gaze.

  "They touched my things. I couldn’t stand the idea of wearing anything again until I washed the entire lot."

  He knelt down beside her. "I understand."

  Her shoulders sagged. "I feel so…violated."

  He did, too. However, the very notion of her doing something as mundane as going to the laundromat scared the hell out of him. No matter how farfetched it sounded, he sure didn’t want to take the chance that the persons who did this would come after her next.

  "We’ll take care of this together, as soon as you’re ready to start a load. You can put your clothes in the washer at my place. I’ve got to go out for a window pane anyway." Kurt helped her gather the clothes.

  "Kurt, you can’t…" Her voice trailed off. "Thank you. I don’t suppose you’d consider letting Hades stay at your place while we’re working tomorrow?"

  "As far as I’m concerned, you can both start moving in. Although for the life of me, I don’t know where we’ll put all those books."

  She laughed, the first genuine release of tension since they got home. But amusement quickly crumbled into tears. Ellie buried her face in her hands and cried. Kurt pulled her into the shelter of his arms.

  "I’m just so scared."

  He cradled her head against his shoulder. "I know, honey, but we’ll get through this together. I promise."

  * * *

  Crude didn’t begin to describe the videos. Hundreds of other words did. Ellie could sum it all up in one—pathetic. If pressed, she could also add angry. The only constant in each tape was the hate on Susan’s face as she brought each man to her bed. Her victim never seemed to see the loathing. And the emotion was fleeting—a flash in time before she proceeded with her act. All Ellie could think about was Susan, the young girl, brutally and viciously attacked. This blackmailing scheme was the legacy of that tragedy. In spite of herself, Ellie felt sorry for Susan, for her family.

  The door opened behind her. Ellie glanced up at Kurt.

  "How’s it going?" he asked.

  She popped out the tape and reached for another. "Going to be a long time before I’m going to want sex again, I’ll tell you that."

  He gave a gusty sigh. "Great. Just the news a man likes to hear from his woman."

  Ellie couldn’t help it. She laughed.

  "The fingerprints all over your apartment belong to McConnell and Clark. MPs are rounding them up now. I’m going down to the base detention cell with Jess to start their questioning. Tripp’s still here in the building with you. If you find anything, let him know."

  "Will do and…" An image flashed by on the screen. Ellie stood so fast her folding chair toppled back.

  Kurt caught it before it could fall. "What?"

  All she could do was point at First Sergeant Yost’s face. But it wasn’t just any video. This one wasn’t in the love-nest’s bedroom, it was filmed in the kitchen. It had very little to do with Susan’s normal line of blackmail, and everything to do with what looked like Yost’s side business.

  From the corner of her eye she saw Kurt lean close, eyes wide. "My God, it’s First Sergeant Yost. Turn up the volume."

  Yost nudged Jeremy’s shoulder. "You owe me big time, private. You’d be out of the Corps on a bad conduct discharge. Remember that."

  "Yes, sir." Jeremy looked completely lost and hopeless.

  "I want this ketamine cooked up and packaged by the end of the week. We’ve got buyers…very impatient buyers." Yost patted a large military-style khaki backpack beside him on the kitchen table.

  "Tripp, we’ve got a hit for you," Kurt shouted over his shoulder toward the open door. "It’s certain. Call Jess. We’ve got another pick up for the MPs." He kissed Ellie’s temple with exultation. "Fantastic job, honey. I’ll let you know when we’ve got him in custody, then see you at home later."

  * * *

  With the arrests, the ketamine story unraveled. Tripp passed along the news, but Ellie wasn’t surprised. McConnell and Clark were part of Yost’s command. Yost supplied them with free drugs. They did his grunt work. The two of them were already trying to cut a deal with the Staff Judge Advocate’s office. She bet Yost was fuming. God, she would have loved to see the look on his face when the MPs hauled him to the detention cell in handcuffs. So much for the good ol’ boy. Ellie smiled with satisfaction.

  "Well…" Tripp braced his palms on his knees. "That’s got to be a relief. Now you can go home and not worry. Can I give you a ride?"

  Obviously her cue to go. Ellie snagged her purse. "Thanks. That’ll leave Kurt his car. I’m sure he’d appreciate it, and I can do some more packing."

  "Ah, yes…the big move." He held the door open for her. "Nervous?"

  "No." Ellie smiled. It just felt right. "So, tell me about your branch of the Duncans."

  During the fifteen-minute drive, Tripp somehow managed to condense his family tree—parents, brothers, the close relationship between his father and Kurt’s, and even threw in a little about his maternal grandfather’s horse ranch east of town.

  "Never married?" she asked as he pulled into her driveway.

  He shrugged. "Wouldn’t mind being married. Just haven’t found the right woman yet. Unless you want to kick Kurt to the curb." He gave a rakish grin.

  Ellie laughed at the mischief in his midnight blue eyes. "Not a chance. You Duncans…are you all so ornery?"

  He smiled. "Just about. Welcome to the family."

  Ellie was still chuckling to herself as she walked inside. She bypassed the clutter of packing boxes in the kitchen and living room, deciding to tackle upstairs first.

  Hours passed while she methodically boxed and labeled items. After folding the top closed on a box of linens, Ellie sat cross-legged on her bed while she planned her next project. The bedroom was done, so was the bath. The kitchen could wait, Kurt had enough food in his kitchen. Her books…that was a day-long task all by itself. And Kurt really had no place to put them.

  Oh, well. She’d survived with piles of books stacked around on the floor in the past, and she could do so again. But could Kurt?

  Ellie laughed to herself. Another test of their relationship.

  "Well, this isn’t getting the packing done. Move it, Ellie girl."

  She hoisted herself from the bed and made her way to the staircase. Shuffling from below stopped her. She frowned. Kurt would shout out a greeting when he walked in. It had to be Bernadette borrowing something again. Ellie discounted that idea, too. The dead bolt was locked.

  On tiptoe she crept forward to the edge of the staircase for a peak. Susan stood before the window seat dressed in black jeans, sweatshirt, ski cap, and gloves. A military duffel bag lay on the floor beside her. Without pause, she picked up Hades’ cat basket from the window seat, tossed it and the pillows aside, and lifted the lid.

  "Looking for something?"

  Susan started at the sound of Ellie’s voice. She whirled around. Indecision flitted
across her face.

  Ellie slowly descended. "Don’t bother with your little act, Susan."

  Lips thinned to a tight line. "Fine, I won’t. Don’t come any closer, Ellie." She yanked a pistol from under the back of her sweatshirt. "Just give me what I came for."

  "So you can kill me and leave?"

  Susan lifted one corner of her mouth in the mocking semblance of a smile. "I wouldn’t kill you. You’re my friend."

  "And a witness. I’m not stupid." She thought she heard a car pull up in front of the condo. Kurt! If she could only stall… "How did you get in here?"

  The woman shrugged. "I learned how to pick locks from one of my associates. Dead bolts are tricky, but not pick-proof. Just takes patience."

  "It’s always good to have a hobby." Ellie took a step closer to the door. "Why the act? How did you manage to get away from your parents?"

  Susan laughed, a flat, caustic sound that sent a shiver of dread down Ellie’s spine. "My parents are sound sleepers. Always have been. And the act?" She snickered. "You don’t think I’d actually let them prosecute me, do you? Especially when I knew about this little gold mine." She waved her hand to the empty window seat. "Where is it, Ellie? We could split it up. Together, we’d make a great team."

  "After you tried to set me up? You were going to let me go to jail for your little blackmail scheme." Ellie tried to remain calm and eyed the gun.

  "Surely you’re not going to hold that against me. I had to do something. That jerk Yost turned the tables on me. Told me he’d mention my little money-making program to one of his NCIS pals."

  "You tried to blackmail him for his ketamine trafficking, so he tried to do the same to you with your little sex tapes. Only it didn’t work. That’s why he went to the hospital the day Jeremy died. He knew who you really were. He was trying to threaten you."

  Anger bracketed Susan’s eyes. "He discovered the ketamine was missing from Jeremy’s hovel. Thought I might have something to do with it."

  "And you did, didn’t you?"

  The sinister smile was back. "Of course I did. Jeremy was always so easy to manipulate. I told him Yost and his two thugs planned to cheat him and convinced him to hide the stuff here."

  "Susan, you may just as well have killed him."

  She snorted. "Who says I didn’t?"

  Ellie’s eyes widened.

  "Don’t look so shocked. It’s all the cost of doing business. The little twerp was going to go to NCIS about all of us. What choice did we have? I played lookout while Yost smothered him. Then I destroyed the pillow. It made a lovely fire."

  So, she and Yost were in deep together. Obviously, she had him buffaloed, too, or he would have given her up to authorities by now. Probably convinced himself what they had was love.

  Ellie caught movement from the corner of her eye. Seconds later Bernadette’s heels clicked across the kitchen linoleum.

  "Now what?" She entered the living room in mid-complaint. "Eleanor, I swear if that beast of a cat gets out and sharpens his claws on my new car, I’ll…"

  Susan swung the gun in Bernadette’s direction.

  "Bernadette, watch out!" Ellie knocked Susan to the floor with one flying leap. The blast from the gun roared in her ear. "Call 9-1-1! Call 9-1-1!" She struggled to keep Susan’s flailing body beneath hers. They were evenly matched in size and strength.

  Heels clicked out a staccato rhythm as Bernadette sped back through the kitchen. Susan swung the gun wildly, trying to smash it into Ellie’s head. Ellie grabbed Susan’s wrist in a vain effort to knock the weapon away.

  While Ellie and Susan wrestled, only harsh gasps and grunts pierced the silence as each struggled for dominance. Ellie drew on her fear, her anger, and her pain and threw all of those emotions back at Susan in one mighty surge of energy that gave strength to her tired body.

  "Let go, Susan! Give it up," she shouted and jammed her thumb deep into Susan’s wrist tendons.

  Susan cried out and the gun tumbled to the carpet. Ellie shoved it away with one swipe of her hand. In another swift move, she flipped her nemesis onto her back, parked a knee into Susan’s lumbar, and pinned her in place.

  Footsteps ran toward them. Ellie didn’t dare take her gaze off Susan to see who was there. Whoever it was stopped in the doorway.

  "You really are a killing machine. You really can take care of yourself," Kurt said.

  He continued forward, clamped handcuffs around Susan’s wrists, and hauled her to her feet. "I think you’ve played enough games to last a lifetime, Susan. You’re due for a long vacation behind bars. Your boyfriend Yost just gave you up for a deal."

  "Bastard!"

  Wild blue eyes stared at Ellie—panic, fear, rage. An act or the real thing? Hard to tell with Susan.

  "Tell him to get his filthy hands off me. No man handles me this way. No man. I’m in charge, not them. Me! Me! Me!" She twisted and kicked at Kurt in a manic attempt to escape.

  Sirens screeched to a halt outside. Police rushed the door. Kurt shoved Susan into their care, then draped an arm around Ellie and drew her close. His arms were shaking.

  Ellie burrowed into his chest. "Don’t judge me too quickly, Duncan. I might be able to take care of myself some of the time, but not all of it. That’s your job."

  He gave a soft chuckle. "Glad to know you have some uses for me."

  She gave him the best smile she could muster under the circumstances. "Don’t worry. I have lots of uses for you. You’ve only seen the tip of the iceberg."

  Bernadette trotted up to them, police officer in tow. "This is the one, officer. She’s a saint I tell you. She saved my life. You wouldn’t believe such bravery."

  The older woman was pale with shock, her makeup clownish on her white face. Ellie noted with amusement that Bernadette looked very much like her dolls at the moment.

  The police officer seemed unimpressed with the woman’s dramatic news. He nonchalantly pulled his notebook from his pocket. "We’re going to need a statement from you, ma’am."

  Kurt flashed his badge. The officer nodded and stepped away.

  Bernadette clasped her hands under her chin and looked around wildly. "What’s all this?" She fluttered one hand at the packing boxes. "You can’t move now. You just can’t. I swear I won’t feel safe here without you. Without you both! You simply must stay. I insist."

  Ellie looked at Kurt. She raised one questioning eyebrow. He gave an imperceptible nod, then faced the older woman.

  "We’ll stay, but there are going to have to be some changes made."

  * * *

  Kurt stood at the altar waiting for his bride. The church was packed. So much for small weddings. He was surprised Ellie let the parents have their way on this, but then he and Ellie had other things to occupy their time while the wedding was being fussed over. And she needed to conserve as much energy as possible.

  He scanned the crowd as Vivaldi’s Spring began to play and doors at the end of the aisle opened. With the exception of Tripp, who’d run afoul of a drug lord and was hospitalized with gunshot wounds, he didn’t think any friend or family member was absent. Everyone was all smiles. Even Ellie’s parents seemed to be getting along. And Bernadette…it was hard not to laugh. Ellie’s former archenemy was now her staunchest supporter. A quick brush with death did great things for Bernie’s personality.

  There was a flurry of activity just beyond the doors, then they closed. It wasn’t hard for Kurt to figure out what had happened. Seconds later, Zach Taylor came up the side aisle and summoned him with a loud "pssst."

  Kurt lifted his palms to the guests. "Everything’s fine. Just sit tight." Forcing a smile, he gave them a nod and slipped away with his best friend.

  "She’s in the bathroom," Zach said as they strode along the corridor. "Refuses to see anyone but you."

  "It’s okay. I’ll take care of it." He squeezed his way through the frantic women milling around in the hallway, edged through the door, and locked it. "Ellie?"

  "In here."

 
He found her where he expected her to be—sprawled on the floor, her head in the toilet. "It’s okay, honey. I understand morning sickness doesn’t last that long." He wet a paper towel and squatted down beside her.

  "Everyone’s going to think I’m pregnant," she wailed.

  He tried not to laugh. "You are pregnant." He held her veil back while she emptied the pitiful contents of her stomach. Why had the mothers tried to feed her?

  She sagged against him. "My worst nightmare. Lying flat on the floor of a church bathroom. Throwing up. Oh God, I didn’t get any on my dress, did I?"

  "You’re perfect."

  "There you go, making judgments again."

  "Based on fact this time, my love. You are perfect." He blotted the sweat from her brow. "Feel better?"

  Ellie nodded.

  "Good. Let’s fix your makeup and get married."

  When she nodded again, he snagged her makeup kit from her maid of honor and locked the woman out of the bathroom. As he knelt beside her once more, powder puff poised to repair the damage, Ellie started to giggle.

  "What’s so funny?" He dusted, then tucked the compact away. Out of the bag came a lipstick, liner, and hairbrush.

  "When I said I had other uses for you, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."

  "Just trying to make myself handy. I wouldn’t want to be replaced. Plus, it’s nice to put makeup on someone else for a change. There. All done. Perfection." He helped her to her feet. "Ready?"

  She plucked at the square neckline that showed off the tops her generous breasts. "Let’s hurry before these things decide to grow any more." She paused and took a shallow breath. "And before I have to throw up again."

  "Just don’t let those mothers try to feed you anything." He tucked one errant chocolate curl back into her headdress, dropped a kiss to her cheek and hurried back to his former position.

  He’d barely settled in when the doors opened once more. The wedding party glided past him in a blur. Then there was Ellie. She gave him a radiant smile. Emotion choked him. His beautiful Ellie.

  How could he have possibly ever thought anything else?

  Catherine Snodgrass

 

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