“You heard me,” Rachel shot back. “You two squabble like an old married couple.”
Steph nodded in agreement while Corey shook her head in emphatic denial.
Rachel looked up at the stage as Cam started talking about taking a break for a few minutes. “Oops. I should be paying better attention. I gotta go mingle. Nice to meet you, Steph. Stop in anytime and bring Collier. Coffee is always on me.”
“Thanks.” Steph gave her a wave as Rachel disappeared into the crowd.
Once the music was off Corey no longer had to raise her voice to be heard. “So, tell me about Oneonta.” She opened another beer and peered around for Thayer, who had worked her way forward and was at the tables with Dana and Jules, writing suggestions for charities and other local artists to perform.
“You know you’re not actually investigating this case, right?” Steph asked as she unwrapped her sandwich.
“Come on,” Corey encouraged. “We recovered a decomp together. That’s gotta count for something.”
“It does. I have a profound respect for you and what you do and I hope you’re a new friend. But it doesn’t make you a cop,” Steph denied her gently. “Why do you even want to know?”
“I’m already in the loop and I just want to see it through to the end, and personal interest, I guess.” Her eyes flicked to Thayer wending her way back over to them through the crowd.
Steph followed her gaze. “She doesn’t have anything to do with this. I know it hits close to home—literally.”
Thayer slipped her arm around Corey’s waist giving her a gentle kiss on the mouth. “You two look serious.” Thayer looked between them. “Everything all right? Steph, are you here officially?”
“No.” Steph smiled. “Just passing time and enjoying some real life and excellent coffee before I have to go back to work.”
“Well, it’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you decided to stop by.”
“Thank you.” She nodded at the door. “I’m going to listen to as much as I can over there so I can make a quick getaway.”
“Are you having a good time?” Corey asked when Steph had left.
“Yes.” Thayer smiled and leaned into her as the music started up again.
Corey draped her arms over Thayer’s shoulders and pulled her close against her, back to front. Thayer swayed gently to the music and Corey slowly stepped them backward closer to the front window and away from the people so they had more room and more privacy. “Are you all done schmoozing for the night?” Corey asked, her lips close to Thayer’s ear.
Thayer turned and kissed her softly. “I only want to schmooze with you.”
“Mmm, that is a slippery slope.” She brushed Thayer’s thick auburn curls from the back of her neck and kissed along behind her ear as she shivered. “I’ve read schmoozing is a gateway to canoodling.”
“Oh, no.” Thayer laughed and tilted her head, granting Corey better access to her neck. “What happens then?”
Corey nipped her sensitive skin and heard Thayer’s breath hitch. “Canoodling leads inevitably to only one thing.” In the darkened room she made a bold move and ran her hands down Thayer’s chest and over her belly. She tucked her fingertips down the waistband of her jeans. “Nooky.”
Thayer shook with silent laughter and gripped Corey’s forearms holding her in place. Corey could feel Thayer’s heart thudding through her back.
She heard Rachel talking loudly to the room from nearby and saw from the corner of her eye when she stood on a stool. She heard wild applause. She heard Cam Delmar thank Rachel and the audience and tell a story about her grandmother and the music she played for her and one of her greatest influences—Joni Mitchell.
The last song started, “A Case of You.” Corey had heard the song but never really listened to the lyrics before.
Thayer began to move again, singing softly, her hips and ass pressing against Corey, heating her blood.
Corey spun Thayer in her arms, her right arm slipping around her lower back and her left cupping around her neck as Thayer’s arms slid around her waist.
She was only dimly aware of the one hundred other people in the room, of Rachel standing and swaying on the stool a foot from her. Her senses were filled with the music and the warmth and smell of the woman in her arms. Thayer’s hands were at her waist and head on her shoulder, her hair tickling her face. Corey was completely lost, her mind and body suffused with love.
She felt Thayer tense in her arms, her head coming up sharply. “Babe?” She pulled away slightly to look at her, seeing a worried frown crease her brow as she stared over Corey’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
Thayer’s expression darkened. “There’s a bunch of kids out on the sidewalk…” She paled. “Corey…”
Corey spun in time to see a flurry of movement outside the window a split second before the plate glass window shattered. It happened in an instant and time stood still. She saw Rachel spin off the stool with a shout and disappear from her peripheral vision. She enveloped Thayer in her arms and used her full height to cover her, hunching them over and making them as small as possible while the splintering glass exploded, raining thick shards across her back.
It was over in seconds. Voices were loud, shouting and crying as the lights came up. The floor was covered in glass shards and several bricks thrown through the window.
Corey straightened and pulled Thayer up with her. “Are you all right?” She looked her over, face pale and golden eyes dark but she could see no sign of blood. “Thayer, are you cut?”
Thayer met her eyes finally and gave herself a shake. “No. No, I’m okay.” Thayer looked worriedly back at her. “Corey, you’re bleeding.”
She felt the sting now on the side of her neck. She touched her fingertips to the area and they came away tipped with blood. “It’s okay. It’s nothing.”
“Thayer, I need you,” Dana called from nearby. She was on the floor crouched next to Rachel who appeared dazed, blood streaming from multiple cuts to her hands and arms.
“Jesus.” Thayer pulled away from Corey. “Someone get some towels and call an ambulance.”
Static crackled near Corey’s ear and Steph materialized out of nowhere, her hand gripping the radio handset at her shoulder, shouting orders for backup and ambulances at their location.
“We’ve got multiple assailants…on foot running east…officer on scene.”
Corey’s head snapped up at the sound of high-pitched, cackling laughter from the street, profane shouts and the pounding of running feet.
Rachel was sitting up. Thayer and Dana pressed blood-soaked towels to her body. Jules held a wad of napkins to the arm of another woman.
Corey was overcome with white-hot rage as she looked around at the chaos and fear. In the next instant she tore through the door, shouldering through people trying to leave.
“Corey, no!” Steph yelled behind her as she hit the street at full stride, the whining sickly laughter of the punks responsible ringing in her ears.
Chapter Twenty-One
Half a block down Corey saw the group of them flash beneath a streetlight. It was past midnight and there were few people out and traffic was light. She veered into the middle of the street and put on a burst of speed as she gained ground. They weren’t expecting a foot pursuit and were loping down the sidewalk, laughing and gloating, shoving each other around, their garbled voices talking over each other.
One of them must have looked back and seen her. “Oh fuck, man. Go! Go!”
Together they broke into a sprint and turned down a narrow one-way street. Corey heard a shrill horn and the squealing of tires over the sound of her own labored breathing and blood pounding in her ears. She took the corner, skidding out of the way, her hands slamming against the side of the car which had slowed to a crawl after their near miss with the vandals. The horn blared again, and the driver shouted expletives out the window at her as she regained her footing and kept on, hearing the slapping of feet, and panicked laughter up ahead.
She pinballed down the alley between the Laundromat and Shawarma Shack and skidded to a stop, breathing hard, her ribs and shoulders aching with the effort.
The alley was closed off by an eight-foot, rusty, chain-link fence. Three figures stood on the other side yelling, “Come on! Come on!” as two others dropped to a dumpster and then to the ground on the debris-littered pavement.
A sixth man straddled the top of the fence and she met his leering and laughing gaze. He had a ratty complexion and lank, greasy, brown hair hanging over his face, which couldn’t hide his malicious eyes glittering in triumph.
They stared at each other a long moment. Corey was fixated in rage at their violation, completely unaware that the others were arming themselves with debris from the alley.
The lank-haired man flipped her off with a laugh before dropping to the ground as his buddies let loose. Multiple bottles and brick shards sailed over the fence. She registered the danger a split second before a hard body slammed into her, crashing her against the brick wall, covering her, as bottles popped and exploded where she had been standing.
It was over in a moment, the night now filled with sirens, red and blue lights flashing through the alley, shouts and booted feet running.
“Corey? Are you all right? Are you hurt?” Steph shouted at her between panting breaths as she eased her weight off her and moved away from the wall.
“What?” Corey stared, blinking at her, her heart pounding. “I’m fine.”
“Jesus Christ.” Steph gasped, her hands going to her knees while she took deep breaths.
Corey stepped away from the wall and strode to the fence. “They went that way.”
“No shit.” Steph straightened.
Corey whirled around. “Are you just going to let them get away?”
Steph’s eyes narrowed and she stalked toward Corey, eyes blazing. “Are you insane? They could be armed. You could have been hurt or shot. My job is to protect. That means you.” She jabbed Corey in the chest with two fingers, staggering her. “What the hell was I going to do? Draw my weapon and watch you get showered in broken glass and bricks? Fuck.”
“Austin!” Collier strode down the alley, now well-lit with patrol cars. “Report.”
Steph eyed Corey and took a shuddering breath. “Let’s go.”
Corey followed them out of the alley back to the street abuzz with officers, radios crackling into the night. She figured she was three blocks from the Old Bridge and turned to head back there, Steph and Collier a few yards ahead of her.
Collier turned to glare at her, his eye twitching wildly, his anger clear. He listened to Steph’s report with one ear while barking orders to the officers as he went by.
Corey saw the ambulance lit up with doors open. Rachel was being loaded into the back, joking about something with Dana and Jules on either side while Thayer spoke to the paramedics. She exhaled a relieved breath at seeing them all okay. There was a crowd on both sides of the street and a few police officers ushered them back and urged them to disperse.
She started to move toward Thayer when a hand like iron closed around her upper arm and spun her into a car parked at the side of the road.
Hands pressed into her back, forcing her up against the car. She held out her own hands to stop herself from going face first over the hood.
“Corey Curtis,” Collier growled as he kicked her legs apart and pressed her against the hood. “You are under arrest.”
“What?” She attempted to straighten but was held down by a large hand between her shoulder blades. “Collier, what the fuck?” she yelled as his hands roughly patted across her shoulders, down her back and up and down each leg. He removed her phone and wallet from her back pockets before a hand snaked around her head and pulled the glasses off her face.
“For interfering with an arrest, disturbing the peace, and public intoxication. You have the right—”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Her right arm was twisted behind her and she heard the clink of metal and felt the bite of a cuff ratchet around her wrist.
“—to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you. Do you understand your rights?”
He jerked her left arm behind her and Corey arched back off the car with a hiss of pain, her already taxed ribs screaming in protest, as he secured her other wrist. “What the hell, Collier?”
“Corey?” Thayer’s voice rang out over the others.
Corey was spun around and she saw Thayer watching, confusion and worry etched on her face. Steph stepped in front of her, keeping her at a distance. The look on Steph’s face was a mix of steely resolve and deep sympathy.
“Do you understand your rights?” Collier repeated as he propelled her toward his car.
“Yes,” Corey said through clenched teeth, swallowing her fear and pain while Collier opened the passenger door and pressed her in.
“What the hell is going on? Why is she being arrested?” Thayer yelled, uncaring who saw her distress. “Steph, please.” Thayer tried to move past her but Steph gripped her arm and put her body in front of her.
“Thayer, don’t,” Steph warned. “You’ll make things worse.”
“Worse?” Her eyes filled and she could see Corey’s tension and pain as Collier bundled her into the car.
“I’m sorry,” Steph said softly. “It wasn’t my call. He’s angry and—”
“Angry? Who here isn’t angry?”
Steph shook her head and sighed heavily. “I’ll drive you to the station.”
Thayer nodded, running her hands down her arms, feeling the softness of Corey’s sweatshirt she’d had the foresight to put back on before coming outside. She heard Corey’s keys jangle in the pocket. “No. I’ll drive myself. I need to go back to the condo first.”
Thayer pulled into the station close to an hour later, her heart hammering with dread and fury at what had happened. She had already called the hospital. Rachel was okay. There had been a lot of blood but only a few of the cuts on her hands and arms needed suturing. She was being released shortly, and Dana and Jules were taking her back to the shop to inspect the damage and make sure it was secure, and then home.
Thayer slung her purse over her shoulder and headed into the station, an older four-story gray building in standard bland government style. She had never been inside. She had never had a reason. It was past one in the morning now, but she didn’t feel tired, only anxious, angry, and desperately worried about Corey.
She stopped at a long front reception desk, protected by a Plexiglas window and manned by a bored, older officer in uniform. She didn’t wait for him to acknowledge her. “I need to speak with Sergeant Jim Collier immediately.”
The man looked up, eyes narrowed at the demand, apparently bristling at being told what to do. “He’s busy.”
“He’ll see me. Please, let him know Thayer Reynolds is here.”
The officer’s eyes widened slightly and he stared at her curiously for a moment before nodding. It occurred to her that though they had never met, he might have recognized her from the incident at the construction site. Either that or Jim had told him to expect her.
The officer picked up the phone and jabbed in the number. “Sarge, Thayer Reynolds is here to see you.” He watched Thayer as he listened a moment. “Right away, sir.” He was buzzing her in before the phone was back in the cradle. “Through the door and up to the second floor, ma’am. He’ll meet you.”
Thayer worked to steady her breathing and slow her racing heart as she topped the stairs to a landing with dark hallways to the right and left and double doors in front of her leading to a large, brightly lit room. She saw Collier heading toward the doors from the other side and pushed through them before he reached her.
She glanced around at the two dozen desks pushed together in pairs, facing each other making desk squares all over. A few were occupied with plainclothes cops she assumed were de
tectives. A couple of men glanced her way but paid her no other mind. She wondered if this was a specific division—homicide, narcotics, or vice. She was just rattling off words in her head she’d heard on television. She had no idea how the department worked or what Jim Collier was the sergeant of. Right now she didn’t care.
“Where is she?” Thayer asked him tightly.
“Come with me.” He gestured for her to follow.
The back wall was a line of offices, all of them dark but one, and for a moment she thought that was where they were headed but he veered off to the side. Apparently, he wasn’t high ranking enough to have an office with a door, but he did rate a pair of desks somewhat removed from the others with a partial wall separating it from the larger room.
Thayer expected to see Corey at his desk and was dismayed to find the space empty but for the desks and chairs and one visitor chair he indicated she should take. She sat and he settled himself back at his desk.
“Where is she?” Thayer demanded again.
“Being processed.”
“Processed?” Thayer stiffened. “Do I need to call a lawyer?”
“Look, Doc—”
“You may call me Dr. Reynolds.”
His eyes widened in surprise. “She was way out of bounds here.”
“She was out of bounds?”
Collier cleared his throat. “She can’t keep running off half-cocked, putting herself in danger. You were there last time. You saw what happened.”
“So, you were what—protecting her? Saving her from herself?” Her throat tightened in anger, her voice cracking. “By handcuffing her and treating her like a criminal. Did you hurt her?”
“What?” Collier looked shocked and confused. “No, I didn’t—”
“Did you ask her?” She cut him off. He stared at her mutely, the muscles in his jaw bunching. “You’re going to sit here and feed me some bullshit line about protecting her but you didn’t even make sure she was okay? Jesus Christ, Jim, she’s barely two months out from serious injuries.” Thayer raked her hands through her hair, and shook her head. “You’re punishing her.”
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