by Rachel Lee
He knew how many people lived with the belief that bad things wouldn’t happen to them. Truth was, people couldn’t handle life if they worried all the time. He had seen enough of the ugliness in war to know that bad stuff really happened to people, and maybe that was part of the cause for PTSD. Facing mortality and the horrible messes that could happen ripped away any illusion of safety. Like survivors of tornadoes and other disasters. They suffered for years afterward.
He sighed. Then he saw it. He let out a piercing whistle and activity stopped. The woods grew nearly silent.
“I got a footprint,” he called.
Staring down at the scuffed leaves he saw the dirt had been bared and there was the unmistakable print of a work boot, maybe size ten or a little larger. He looked toward the street and saw some scuffing in the leaves.
Damn, the guy had circled around the vic like a shark.
* * *
“That explains why she wasn’t alerted to the slap of running feet behind her,” Stu said to Gage and Guy Redwing as techs made a cast of the print and other LEOs gently swept leaves aside looking for another. They’d be messed up by the leaves if they found any, but they could describe the perp’s path. Any information at this point would be better than none.
“Apparently so,” Gage replied.
“Do we know who she is yet?”
“Finally. She wasn’t carrying ID. Why would she? But a coworker of hers heard about what happened, realized she was late to work and hadn’t called in sick by about nine-thirty and went to the hospital when May didn’t answer her phone.”
Stu nodded, his mind running rapidly, trying to assemble pieces into something useful. Probably wasting his time trying to. This was like a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle with only a half dozen pieces available. “Who?”
“May Broadwyn, a clerk of court. When her name made the rounds, one of the city guys said he’d seen her running last night as he patrolled. Headed the other way.”
Stu wanted to swear violently. He’d dated May a couple of times right after he moved here. They simply hadn’t meshed, mainly because his demons had poked up more frequently back then.
“What’s her condition?”
“As bad as it looked. Last word was she was slated for surgery. Might be able to question her late this afternoon.”
Stu did swear out loud then.
“Yeah,” Gage replied. “Most of us knew her from her job if not socially. A lifelong local.”
“I knew her,” Guy Redwing said heavily. “She was always helpful. Nice lady.”
Gage caught Stu’s eye, then jerked his head to the right. He said, “Guy, keep an eye on things for a moment.”
“Sure, Sheriff.”
Stu followed Gage to the far edge of the copse. If they kept their voices low, they couldn’t be overheard. Stu was a little surprised but he wasn’t going to demand reasons. Gage would tell him soon enough.
Gage turned to look back through the trees, apparently satisfying himself that there was no one nearby. “Okay.”
“What’s up?” He waited, never expecting what came next.
“You know this Kerri Addison pretty well, right?”
Stu hesitated. Crap. First Maude, now his boss. “We’re friendly but I’ve only known her since that day you chose me to speak in her class. Coffee, a few dinners. Casual. That’s all.” Which wasn’t the full truth, he guessed, because those dinners had been followed by evenings with her.
Gage appeared to roll his eyes. “I’m not asking for intimate information. What do you think of her so far?”
“Bright. Very bright. Former victims advocate, domestic disturbance mediator and investigator.”
“Epileptic, I heard.”
“Yeah. She got shot when answering a DD call. Killed her career in law enforcement but other than that I don’t think it’s as bad as she thinks it is.” What the heck was this about? Her conversation with Webley? Stu began to tense, ready to defend her.
Gage nodded. Stu let him think. This was going somewhere and nerves began to niggle at the back of his neck, the way they had when he was on security detail in a combat zone. Or checking the perimeter of an operations base.
Something was coming.
“How bad is the epilepsy?”
Stu shrugged. “Enough that she can’t drive or be a cop anymore. She checks out, is all. Anywhere from a half minute to two. A bit of confusion when she comes back. You wouldn’t think something so minor could wreck someone’s life. But I can see why she couldn’t interview witnesses anymore. If she drops out, she might miss something. Same at a desk on the phone.”
Stu figured he’d never have a better opportunity. “Maybe we can find some way to involve Kerri. I think she’s getting frustrated. She said to me that this is the type of case she used to work on, and the restrictions on civilians during an ongoing investigation are chafing her, I believe.”
Gage eyed him. “You reading my mind?”
“Just listening. Anyway, she’s bright, determined and not real happy about having to sit on her hands.” He kept to himself his own worry that if she became involved in any significant way, she might become a target for the rapist. Too many criminals attacked those they thought might have evidence against them, if they didn’t flee. This guy was growing increasingly violent, a disturbing trend.
“Any concerns?”
He nodded, admitting it. “I don’t want her to come to the rapist’s notice.”
“She would if she were in uniform.”
Stu admitted it was true. “Do you want to make her a uniform?”
Gage gave a little shake of his head. “I could deputize her, but not make her a full-time cop. I was thinking she might be able to talk to the victims and they might be more comfortable with her. You talk to her. See how she feels about that. I don’t have a trained victims advocate on staff. Never really needed one before, certainly not enough to justify the training and a full-time position. But if she’s willing to help out, I can sure as hell use her. At least now.”
“Okay.” But Stu had mixed feelings. He wanted to protect her from danger, but on the other hand, he had the strongest feeling that she was going to find a way to get involved somehow. In fact, he believed she was already working on it. She could have cut Webley off and told him to speak with a deputy. She hadn’t.
God, he didn’t have the right to deprive her of what she so obviously needed and wanted. That didn’t mean he had to like it.
Then he and Gage returned to the hunt for the perp’s trail.
* * *
Kerri was surprised to find Stu waiting for her when she emerged from the campus building that contained her office. She hadn’t exactly been pleasant to him this morning. In fact, she’d been angry and argumentative, and had even criticized him for staying with her during her seizure. She couldn’t have blamed him if he wanted to distance himself from the unpredictable bomb she apparently had become.
But she was glad to see him. She liked him. Unfortunately, she was also drawn to him in ways that made her squirm given her disability. Why would any man want to be saddled with a woman who depended on a service dog and couldn’t even drive in a place that had no buses or taxis?
In some respects, coming here hadn’t been a well-thought-out choice. She’d never even looked into the question of public transport. Maybe she’d lost some of her basic intelligence in the shooting. The things she hadn’t thought about, like getting groceries and dog food. Duh.
Snowy apparently recognized the SUV, because his tail started wagging the instant he saw it. He never left her side, a good dog as always, but he was clearly glad to see Stu.
The cold air nipped at her cheeks a bit, but since night was falling rapidly, she supposed the temperature might be dropping.
Stu hopped out of the vehicle and opened the passenger door for her and Snowy. He was back in ci
vilian clothes, and his gray-green eyes crinkled at the corners. “Hi. And you’re starting to look cold already.”
His smile made her smile in response. “I’m a thin-blooded Southern girl.”
“That won’t last. At least not for long.”
“I hope not.”
He climbed in behind the wheel, turned over the engine and started them toward town. She assumed to her apartment and wondered if she should offer to make dinner for him. Her mind began to click over the possibilities. She hadn’t really shopped for two.
He answered the question before she mentioned it. “Do you like sub sandwiches?”
“Yes.” Where was this going? She was sure that wasn’t on Maude’s menu.
“With all the trimmings, like lettuce and tomato?”
“That’s part of what makes it a good meal.”
He nodded. “Then we’ll swing by the grocery. At this time of day the deli there, while probably not what you’re used to, makes a great turkey or roast beef sub.”
“Sounds good.” It did. Her mouth watered at the very idea.
He made a turn. “I know all the places to feed my face that don’t involve cooking. I think I need to grow up and learn how to do more than heat up a can of soup or a frozen meal.”
She turned her head, daring to look at him, almost relieved that he seemed to be putting this morning into the past. Still, she’d have to give him an apology. “I bet you can do more than that.”
He flashed her a grin. “Don’t try me. You’ll regret it.”
She bit her lip, wondering if she should bring up what happened this morning, then decided to let it rest until a better opportunity arose. Right now they were heading out to pick up dinner.
She was used to larger selections at most of the supermarket delis back home, but this one wasn’t bad at all. She was able to order a half turkey sub with all the good stuff, like cheese, tomato, green pepper, lettuce, onion...oh, yeah. She could hardly wait to eat it.
Stu went for a whole loaded roast beef that must have used nearly every topping available.
“Wanna eat at my place or yours?” he asked as they climbed into the car.
“Mine, please.” Because she felt secure there, and as much as she wanted to see where he lived, from the internal lurch she experienced at the question, it was going to have to wait.
“No problem. I can promise, though, that you don’t have to worry about a bachelor mess. The Army taught me to keep everything squared away.”
“It’s not that,” she admitted. Oh, hell, she’d showed this man enough this morning that she shouldn’t be embarrassed by a little truth. “I just feel more comfortable in my apartment. In case.”
“Well, sure. That’s natural. Another time, then. I wanted to ask, how did your class go today?”
“About like I expected. Lively discussion about rape, penalties for rape, how women are treated during investigations. If it was even remotely connected to the subject, we tossed it around. Which sounds as if it was lighthearted, but it wasn’t. There was a lot of intensity, probably because so many of them knew Sandra Carney. This is striking close to home for most of them.”
“It should be. Did you get any defenders of date rape?”
“I expected more, but there was only one guy, and he kind of settled down after I suggested that he take a no as a no until advised in so many words that she hadn’t meant it.”
“Ah, man.” He sighed. “It was a problem in the Army, too. Entirely too much of it, if you ask me. It’s like some guys think women were put in their lives as their personal playthings.”
“Isn’t that what we are?” she asked. “I get that impression all too often.”
He pulled into a parking place in front of the building, then switched the car off. “But it was mostly a good discussion?”
“Better than I expected. There was only that one sour note, and I had anticipated running into a lot worse. When I was cop I ran into more of it than I could believe. But this class was pretty good. Maybe knowing the victim made it more real. They all seemed to know Sandra Carney.”
“They mostly would. She grew up here.”
Upstairs, she broke out some plates and napkins to eat with and asked him if he wanted a beer.
“Sounds good. Thanks.”
They settled at the bar while a happy Snowy started enjoying his tennis ball. Kerri often threw it for him, but he seemed to enjoy tossing it himself and chasing it. The clatter behind her made her feel good. She loved that dog.
The conversation rambled around. He mentioned the county’s dog trainer, Cadell Marcus, once more, suggesting they could take a drive out to meet him, maybe next weekend.
That sounded hopeful, she thought. Like there wouldn’t be another attack. She suspected he didn’t believe that. She sure didn’t. While two instances didn’t prove they had a serial rapist on their hands, statistics said otherwise. Heck, given the violence of the first rape, it should have been a suspicion from the start unless they found someone who had a grudge against the first woman. Now the count was two, and they’d probably be looking at a third before long.
She hated to think about it, longed to try to bring down the hammer on this guy before he could act again.
As they just about finished eating, Stu changed the tack of the conversation again.
“Gage wanted me to ask you something.”
She tensed. Her heart speeded a bit. Was he angry that she had talked to that Webley guy? Or involved herself with the witness, Edith Jasper?
“What?” she asked, dreading to hear she’d stepped on the sheriff’s toes. Not a good person to irritate in such a small town. Given her former career, she didn’t want to get on the wrong side of law enforcement. Not that Gage would do anything to her. It would just make her uncomfortable in a new way to learn she had crossed a line Gage believed to be important.
She had to get over this need to get involved. She was no longer a cop. Period. All she could try to do now was teach in a way that would make better cops.
She braced herself. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Seriously. Gage had an idea.”
She turned her head to look at him, remains of her sandwich forgotten. She felt Snowy come closer without nudging her, and thought, Oh, my God, no. Not another seizure today.
“Gage was impressed by the fact that Webley came up to talk to you today when he didn’t want to talk to a uniform. And that Edith Jasper was willing to turn to you when she was so upset.”
She let out a puff of air, relieved. “So I’m not in the doghouse.”
“Nope.” Stu swiveled his seat on the stool to look at her. “He wants to deputize you. At least for now.”
She gasped. Her heart skipped beats and she wondered if it actually stopped. “What?” she asked hoarsely. “You’re joking.”
“Serious as a heart attack as they say. He can’t afford the training and expense of hiring a victims advocate because this kind of thing is far from routine. Small town,” he added by way of explanation, as if she needed to hear that.
She stared at Stu, almost falling into his unusual gray-green eyes. He wasn’t joking. He really wasn’t joking.
“Question is, would you be willing? And keep in mind that you might attract the attention of the perp because you’ll be spending a lot of time with the women. He might see you as a threat.”
She nodded slowly, trying to read his expression. “You’re unhappy.”
“I’m worried. Whole different thing. You aren’t even armed, Kerri. And you won’t get a weapon just because you get deputized. You’d have to pass firearms qualification first.”
“I can’t do that,” she said bluntly. “In fact, I don’t want to have a pistol. It wouldn’t be safe.”
“That’s why I’m worried.”
She frowned, wanting to leap at th
is chance, but acknowledging that he might have legitimate concerns.
“I’m not unarmed,” she said slowly. “I have my collapsible baton. I know how to use it.”
“I can see about getting you some pepper spray.”
“No. Snowy.” Nothing would make her risk getting that dog into a cloud of pepper spray.
“Okay. I take it you’re saying yes. Want some time to think about it? I mean, this could get you so involved you won’t have much time for yourself for a while. We’ve already got two victims who need you, and I believe Gage is hoping they might feel freer to give you details. We do have other women on the force who—”
But her mind was made up. She interrupted him. Joy nearly swamped her despite the gravity of the task facing her now. She leaped off her chair and wrapped her arms tightly around Stu. “It was you, wasn’t it? Oh, man, I’m so happy!”
She tilted her head back to look at him, and saw the flaring heat on his face, in his gaze. He wanted her.
A problem. A big problem because she wanted him, too. Quickly she pulled back, forestalling any hope of feeling those strong arms around her, that powerful body naked under her hands, the thought of how a kiss would feel.
She slid back onto her stool. “I’ll do it for as long as I’m needed, Stu. And don’t worry about me. I know a lot of ways to look after myself.”
She also knew that a minute of inattention because of a seizure could cost her a lot. Maybe her life. Because the perp could focus on her, and she was pretty much alone out here.
She didn’t care. Life as she was living it now left her feeling unfulfilled. Now she had something important to do.
* * *
Stu watched the joy being born in her and wished he could be as happy for her as she was for herself. He was worried, though. Concerned. Because, yeah, she might attract the attention of the rapist, but also because of her seizures. During one of them she would be totally unprotected unless Snowy went on the attack, and he figured the dog had been chosen for service in part because he wasn’t aggressive.