by Zoey Parker
Art moves on quickly, prowling to me next.
All that I can see of Keith Raymond is his feet sticking out from behind my large-screened TV.
“Now, Miss Erickson,” he brandishes his gun, the barrel pointed at my chest, “it’s time I said goodbye. I’d say I’m going to miss you, but I’m not. I only regret I couldn’t screw you before this but,” he chuckles, that demented look blooming over his face, “I guess you sort of already screwed me. I’ll remember it...not so fondly. Good bye.”
The front door is slowly opening behind him all through his speech. I try not to gasp when I see Russ. I don’t see his gun until the shot rings out, once, twice, three times.
Art’s blood sails and splatters over me. I flinch.
The detective groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head, the gun slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor. He sways and drops to a knee, his body hunching to the side, caving in on itself.
His eyelids flutter and then he moans, “Lily…”
Chapter 21
Luke
The place is crawling with officers, firefighters, and paramedics when I arrive.
I push through the crowd at the front of the apartment. A few faces pop out at me in the group, but I don’t stop to greet anyone except one of the officers guarding the entrance.
She holds up a hand, but I practically barrel into her. Another officer, a taller, thicker male, assists, and the first officer snaps, “Excuse me. Back up right now, sir. Area’s off limits.”
Forced to explain myself, I babble, “My girlfriend—”
“Is in there? That’s not our top concern at the moment,” she says.
“We’ve asked for the cooperation of the tenants and no one is leaving the building or entering it until we’re given the clear,” her partner adds.
“Get your chief,” I snap. “Tell Chief Jack Isaac that Luke Hanley wants to speak with him.”
The two officers share a look. I growl, “Now. Or I swear I’ll,” my threat is going to end with “call him myself”, but when I reach inside for my phone, both cops jump back, instinctively reaching for their pieces.
I’m facing their guns, and the gasps and cries behind as a commotion starts and more officers round my back. Before I can say “Shit” I’m surrounded by five cops, at least two drawing their weapons.
“Hands where we can see them, sir,” the female officer orders, briskly, her lips curled. Everyone is on edge about something, and I hate not knowing what’s happened—what’s happening. I glance up, finding the window in Lily’s living room, swallowing hard and wondering if she’s trapped in there, scared.
Slowly moving my hand out of my pocket, I hold up my phone. I raise my other hand and wait for them to decide whether they’ll gun me down or not.
Then I see two paramedics heading our way out of the entrance and between them is the woman I’m willing to die for.
“Lily,” I croak. Sweet, powerful relief lowers my hands.
Shouts from the police to keep my hands raised stir Lily’s lowered head up. Our eyes catch. Her mouth opens and eyes widen with recognition. Before the medics can get a hold of her, Lily loses the blanket they’ve tossed over her shoulders and she runs towards the cops.
When they round on her, I yell, “Don’t.” I’m breathing hard, fearful for Lily as she notices the guns. Then she screams short and stumbles back, shaking her head, crying. The paramedics catch up with her, thank God, and keep her from tumbling onto her rear.
Trauma scores her beautiful features.
I step to her, hand clenching around my phone.
She reaches for me as they pull her back toward the parked ambulance. She cries my name, wails for me. “No, let me go,” she screams. “Luke, don’t leave me.”
“Never,” I whisper hoarsely, glowering at the cops who hold their guns at me.
Fuck this.
Ignoring them, I find Isaac’s number and dial. His wife picks up, and she gets a hold of her husband.
“Day off,” Isaac greets me, cheerily.
“Tell them to back off.” I chew out the words like bits of gravel. “I can’t see my girlfriend. They won’t let me see her.” Once I’m calm enough, once I see Lily hasn’t left—she’s being held down and checked in the rear of the ambulance—I walk Isaac through this mess.
“He wants to talk to a Detective Lawson.” I hold out the phone to the two officers who have at least holstered their weapon. Their stances still scream I’m a threat though, so they only perk up at the name I’ve dropped.
Called from inside the building, Lawson is a tall woman in her forties; her light brown hair is knotted in a bun. She has her walkie-talkie flaring to life with commands. She holds up her finger and speaks to whoever is on the other end. Then she drops her hand and clips the walkie back to her belt.
Accepting the phone, she hums and nods, her laugh lightening up the remaining tension in the air. I hear the three officers behind me clearing their defensive hold and returning to whatever they were up to before they believed me a danger to their teammates.
“Mr. Luke Hanley, you’ve been cleared to see your girlfriend.” Lawson gestures for her officers to let me through. Passing me my phone, she looks to Lily and frowns. “If it’s any consolation, I apologize for having this happen.”
“What did happen?” I ask. Now that I have her attention and her sympathy, I figure I can poke around for answers.
She tightens her lips. “It’s still under wraps as an ongoing investigation, but as the chief trusts you, I’ll tell you this: that young woman, your girlfriend, was attacked in her own home.”
On cue, a stretcher is rolled out by three paramedics. The black body bag is foreboding. I’d weaken to my doubts and despair if I didn’t know Lily was safe.
Lawson and I follow the stretcher as the first responders roll it into the back of another ambulance. Blinking from the grim scene, Lawson nudges her chin at Lily. “Go ahead. You should be able to ride with her to the hospital.”
Thanking her, I head for Lily. She tries to stand to hug me, but the paramedic checking her out holds her down. “Please, miss,” he tells her, noticing me belatedly.
“Family member,” I gruffly say to his raised, questioning brows.
“You’re riding with her?” the other paramedic asks, setting up inside the ambulance.
“Yes.” I nod. I brush Lily’s hair, smoothing my hand over her mussed waves to hold her cheek. It an ugly, splotchy red and I can predict a bruise is on its way. Chomping at the bit to ask how she managed to hurt herself, and afraid of what her answer will make me do to the culprit behind this, I focus on her.
Lily’s seems content now, and damn if it doesn’t swell my chest knowing my presence is giving her that much-needed comfort. She leans into my palm, her sigh parting her soft pinks lips, puffy from her tears. It hurts my heart and mind to think she’s cried, and I don’t want to wonder how much.
It’s not going to happen anymore.
This girl’s my world. I see it now. And I almost lost my world, and that feeling isn’t one I’m going to forget, ever.
Giving us a moment, the paramedic backs off and Lily and I hold each other. I give her back a good, deep rub, lowering my head to brush my lips over the top of her ear. “I love you, Lily.”
I hear a loud sob and I smile.
When she shifts her head back to meet my eyes, she smiles over the new wetness adorning her cheeks. “I love you too.”
“Ready?” the paramedic calls.
The other holds out a hand to help Lily. I keep my hands ready from the back. We don’t need her falling, and I need to prove to Lily I’ll always catch her.
# # #
From the ambulance we’re admitted into the hospital, and I finally can hold Lily’s hand and stay by her side uninterrupted as she’s transferred from stretcher to wheelchair. I kiss her, staying near as I check her in.
Lily is lucid, so she answers the desk nurse’s questions. One of the paramedics had been
carrying her purse, and he passed it off to me.
Given her ID wristband, we’re directed to wait until a doctor can see us. It’s the nurse who arrives first, doing the preliminary checkup as I help Lily move from the wheelchair to the empty bed in the patient room.
“I’m pregnant,” Lily tells her while the nurse notes her blood pressure. Drawing off the cuff, she makes another mark on her clipboard form. “But I haven’t officially seen a doctor yet.”
“That’s fine.” The nurse smiles, “We’re going to give you full blood work to see if everything’s all right. And we’ll check to see if baby’s doing well too.”
Alone in the room, I can’t control the urge to hug her again. I squeeze Lily tight, finding her lips in a bruising kiss, and murmuring more affirmations of my love for her.
“Luke, I…” she stammers. “Art…Dayton,” she says, and I kiss her again, wriggling my tongue between her mouth, coaxing hers to come play.
Two sharp knocks haul me from her mouth. I move back with one final squeeze and the doctor pushes her way in.
The young woman introduces herself as a third-year resident, and her teal scrubs have a St. Louis University Medical logo on it. She asks Lily general questions and I’m relieved to hear that Lily is in no pain. Then the resident doctor is replaced by the nurse from earlier who’s returned with equipment. She begins by taking Lily’s blood and then hands her a cup to provide a urine sample.
Lily shyly snatches it, murmuring, “I’ll be right back.” The nurse directs her to the restroom down the hall.
While waiting alone, I seize the opportunity to call Russ. I lost touch with him, but he damn better well know I’m coming for answers. For starters, why the hell is my girl saying the bastard detective’s name?
I hated hearing Lily speak Dayton’s name, and knowing he’s involved pisses me off. But I’m not surprised.
Russ doesn’t pick my call up. Instead, he calls right back after I’ve tucked away my phone.
“Luke, sorry,” he greets.
‘Not yet’, I’m about to say, but Russ goes on to add, “It’s Dayton. He killed Keith.”
“Shit.” My mind flashes back to the body bag being carted out of Lily’s apartment. In her text, Lily said Keith was there. Instinct told me the guy was up to no good, so I told Lily to get out and I called her. She never answered and the next time I saw her, she was a crying mess recoiling from the officers’ guns.
So it’s not shocking when Russ tells me, “The bastard was in on it with Art, offered him a ride in his car. That’s why I couldn’t find Dayton when he parked at the station and went inside. He wasn’t in his office, and I’m suspecting he took a back exit out of the building. There’s a road back there. Keith must have been waiting for him; let him know about my tailing them.”
“Where’s he now?”
“Safe and sound.” Russ is confident. It’s enough for me to loosen up my worry. “He’s out for the count, but when he wakes, I’d like to know what I should do.”
‘Kill him’ is on the tip of my tongue, but Lily comes to mind. Call it love turning me sappy, but whatever it is, I can’t give Russ the cue. Instead, realizing he’s waiting patiently for a response, I say, “Keep an eye on him. I’m on the way.”
Before we click off, I get another call.
I recognize the number.
Kerry is hysterical. She bombards me with questions, and I wonder why she hasn’t called Russ.
I tell her Lily’s fine and let her know which St. Louis hospital we’re at. Kerry hangs up with the promise to be here soon.
True to her promise, Kerry arrives shortly after Lily and I have settled down in the waiting area. We’ve been removed from the patient room to clear up the line forming outside. It’s an evening on a weekday, and the waiting area’s packed enough.
We find two chairs though, Lily cuddling close once I drop my arm over the back of her chair. She’s resting her head on my chest, but she lifts it at her name.
Kerry is torpedoing toward us, getting the looks of nursing staff, residents, doctors, and patients alike. Lily hops up in time to catch her friend’s hard, fast embrace. They babble, sniffling and talking over each other. When they settle, I stand for Kerry to take my seat.
“You’re leaving?” Lily asks. She makes to stand when I inform her I’m stepping out. Not liking her frown, I reach out and peck her mouth.
“I’ll be back,” I whisper against her mouth. To Kerry, I ask, “Take care of her?”
Her friend fiercely nods, her dark red curls bouncing. More shyly, she says, “You tell Russ I’m due a call. He won’t answer.” She scowls. “I hope he’s all right.”
“He is.” I confirm speaking to him and I create an excuse for him. He hasn’t shared the full extent of his life with Kerry, but that’s between them. For now I promise her I will pass her message along and see to it that he’s informed of her loving concern.
“I’m on my way,” I tell Russ when I call him in the taxi. The cab drops me off at Lily’s apartment where I see activity is still hopping. Lawson is nowhere in sight, but there’s that human wall of blue bloods keeping folks from exiting or entering the building in the preliminary stages of their investigation.
Russ must have done a terrific job of cleaning up traces of Dayton. He knows how to make himself disappear from a scene. He extended that courtesy to the asshole of a detective. In my own ride, I make a more detailed call and Russ gives me his coordinates.
I find myself at one of many dilapidated, abandoned buildings in St. Louis. There are thousands, small and large, but Russ chose a two-story, puke yellow edifice on a lonely street corner.
The building must have once housed apartments up top and a deli on the bottom. I enter under the long-ago deli shop’s faded sign.
Russ has Dayton tied up on the floor with his own cuffs. It’s a satisfying turn of events for the heartache and mental unrest he’s given Lily and me the last month and, more so, in the last hour.
Dayton lifts his head at my voice.
He turns and offers me up a hoarse laugh. His face, I now see, is battered, riddled with dried blood and the beginnings of bruising around his cheeks and both eyes. Russ has his fists tucked under his arms, but I make out the black wrist wraps.
So, he started without me.
“Come to fight your own battles?” A groan breaks up his laughter before he chuckles again.
“You had Keith Raymond in your pocket?” I ask, ignoring his question.
“Maybe,” Dayton’s mouth tugs up with a grin. He’s blind to the fresh blood splitting through the middle of his swollen bottom lip. “No, I don’t need dirty hands to do my work. I’ve left that to you.”
“What was your endgame? You go around, question my girlfriend and past and present business clients, and expect to have your promotion handed to you as I pass you on the way to jail?
Dayton’s lips droop. I’ve hit a nerve.
Punching at it some more, I say, “But you see, you’ve picked the wrong family to mess with. The wrong man.”
“Could have started out small, worked your way up, but you got greedy.” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Blinded by that greed you decided to play with big fish using small-minded tactics.”
“Shut up,” Dayton snaps. “You’re nothing, Hanley. Nothing but trash I’ve taken out time and time again in my service to the SLMPD. You’re fucking garbage, and it’s time someone stood up, someone who didn’t kiss your lazy, silver spoon-fed ass, and took you out to the trash bin.
“I happen to be that guy. Seeing through your gold-gilded, rose-scented crap to the son of a cold-hearted bitch you really are. You killed men like Derrick Smyth before, doled out your idea of punishment, and you think I’m the freak of nature. Fuck you.” He spits in the air. It lands shy of my shoes.
I’m suddenly glad for the distance. It keeps me from lunging at him and choking off his air, cutting off this tirade of his.
Let him talk. Better he incriminate himself. I ha
ve my phone recording, catching it all. I’d hand him and a USB drive with the recording to the St. Louis police force. I’d send it to the commissioner if I had to get results that see Dayton locked up for life for murder one on Keith and attempted murder with Lily.
Just thinking of his being at Lily’s to kill her has me seeing red. Then Dayton barks a sharp laugh.
“Oh, if only you could see what I did to her.” He hoots. “She’s ruined, your girl. I fucked her up real good.”
I pause, breathing deep, grounding myself. He’s trying to rile me. Lily is off-limits, and I never want to hear him say her name, but I’m not going to give him the satisfaction of beating his ass within an inch of his life.