Chapter 13

 

Two days passed. Rye spent several hours each day attached to the earphones, collecting evidence and data. Brie went about her vacation, ran errands, and played in the backyard. Even though he was physically still there, she missed the camaraderie they had shared when he helped with tasks. Grocery shopping became more than a mundane chore when he assisted. With him tied to the electronics, she felt disconnected and lonely.

Probably many women married to cops felt the same thing from time to time. Not an easy occupation for them or their spouse.

"Damn." Rye leaned back on the couch, holding his back, as if it had a kink that needed stretched out.

Gary echoed the sentiment, rubbing at his reddened eyes. Both men had spent the night and half of the morning trying to catch the barest whisper of wrongdoing.

"Anything good?" Brie called from the kitchen where she loaded the dishwasher.

Rye shook his head.

For the past forty-eight hours, the news had been the same. Hints and mentions, but nothing concrete enough to tie Gomez to anything or indicate accomplices. They needed something solid and foolproof as this group had tons of money and the best lawyers. Basically they needed him to confess and rat out the others at the same time. Not an easy task. Perhaps an impossible one.

Looking down at the spatula in her hand, her mind quickly ran a few circles of the hamster wheel. Her gaze landed on the heaping plate of cookies sitting on the coffee table in front of the two tired men.

Maybe there was a way after all.

With that thought, she walked over to grab the cookie plate, carrying it back to the kitchen counter.

"Hey! We were eating those," Gary protested.

She dug through a cabinet until finally finding the plastic container and lid she wanted. "Sorry. Your cookies are being sacrificed for a noble cause."

A flick of her wrist sent the treats into the container. She snapped the lid on while both men stared in her direction.

Rye clicked first. "I'm not sure this is a good idea." He stood and moved in her direction.

She waved dismissively. "I just take these over to my new friend, like any good neighbor would do. Maybe I can get her to say something."

Gary stood up, remaining in place as he shook his head. "This could be dangerous."

With a shrug, she headed over to Rye, standing on tiptoe to kiss his lips softly. "No worries. If I can handle a serial killer, I can do girl talk." Clinging to the container, she flashed a wide grin. "Just call me Sara Lee."

With a small wave, she headed out the front door, purse and cookies in hand.

When Tabby answered the door moments later, Brie handed her the Tupperware. "Can I come in for a sec? I have a few more questions."

Tabby nervously chewed her bottom lip and looked behind her.

"I'll only stay a minute. Promise," Brie reassured her.

Tabby paused a beat longer than necessary to make a decision. With a small nod, she stepped aside.

"Thanks!" Brie mouthed to her, hurrying to the kitchen.

Gomez sat in the living room, adjacent to the kitchen, listening intently to his cell phone. Occasionally he would speak a few words in Spanish, then go quiet once more.

"What did you need to know?" Tabby pulled her attention back.

"Ummm. I was wondering about the cost. I'm not rich by any means. And, I thought I had better find out an idea. I would hate to make an appointment with this doctor then find out he's too expensive." She plopped her purse in a nearby dining room chair.

Tabby nodded. Her mouth opened to speak, but Gomez's yelling broke in.

A moment later, his gaze locked on Brie. Fury sparked in those depths while his face scrunched in anger. Words flew from his mouth before he threw the cell phone onto the couch.

Brie sat and blinked at him. Her heart began to pound as her breathing increased. Hairs on the back of her neck spiked and that little voice in her head recommended flight and fast.

"You! It has to be!" He slowly approached. Gone was his business suit that she had always seen him wear, replaced by lightweight shorts and a T-shirt. He dressed more for a day at the pool than for bad business dealings.

Swallowing, Brie squirmed in her seat. "Me?" Her voice wavered. "I don't understand."

Gomez growled in her direction, his accent thick and heavy with agitation. "My informant at the police station." He gestured back toward his phone lying on the couch. "The cops bugged my house."

Remaining mute, Brie scrambled to formulate escape plans.

He moved closer, a tiger stalking his prey. "You are the only one that has been in here."

Tabby stood beside Brie, looking back and forth between them. "Rafe, what are you talking about? She only visited that once. Brought me that nice welcome basket…"

The light bulb went on for both of them. Tabby spun to angrily stare at Brie. "How dare you!"

Gomez nudged her aside. "She won't do it again." Leaning closer, he stopped a few inches from her face. "I shall enjoy watching you writhe in pain while I find out exactly what you know. You will beg for death before I decide to end your life."

Panic and fear welled to the surface.

Tabby gave a snort and marched out of the room. "You know I can't stand all that screeching, Rafe. I'll be back later. After you dispose of the body." She grabbed her purse and paused at the kitchen door. "Oh, try not to make a bloody mess on the carpets. Last time, the stain ruined them and I had to replace them." With that said, she escaped through the door to the garage.

Brie stood toe to toe with Gomez, then made a dash around the dining table.

Keep the table between you. Surely Gary and Rye are listening. They'll mount a cavalry charge at any minute. Just buy time.

Brie lunged from side to side, determined to stay as far away from Gomez as possible.

He turned for an instant, opened a nearby drawer in the kitchen, and pulled out a gleaming steel bladed knife. His eyes flared nearly as bright as the light bouncing off the polished weapon. An evil grin of satisfaction covered his face as he slowly approached.

Her heart beat a heavy tattoo as she prayed, and juggled her position to stay away from him, understanding her life depended upon guessing correctly as to his next move.

One shift left and she bounced in place, ready for the next countermove. Her purse lay open in the seat of the chair just under her hands. A familiar pink handle barely stuck above the other contents.

She had to stall him.

"Why are you going to kill me? I haven't done anything."

He snarled and swiped with the knife, missing her easily. "You brought the cops in, bugged my house. Even now they are putting together evidence against me, Bandito, and Ramiro. Because of you, I shall lose all my hard earnings and money."

She snorted. "Earnings? If you're committing a crime, I don't think you deserve those 'earnings'." If she was to die, she could at least make him spill the beans beforehand.

"Do you know how many years I have worked to create this business? Lining up men, jewels, and money? I've earned it!" he yelled, his accent becoming even thicker with his anger. Cheeks turned bright red as he lunged and struck out again. Spanish words flung at her in anger.

"I'm just a nobody. I think you've lost your mind. A smart man would consider his partners as the culprits. Men are greedy, you know."

Gomez paused for a long moment, seeming to consider her theory. With a shake of his head, he resumed his hunt. "They know the consequences for double-crossing me. I will check on them later. First, you will die."

He faked left and headed right. Brie missed the transition, finding herself spinning away from a knife blade now covered in blood. Her light blue shirt and shorts revealed a large tear, big enough that her shorts gaped and fell to the ground. With a yelp, she struggled back around the table.

A jerk sent one dining chair over backward, blocking his progress momentarily. Sliding and skidding to a halt, Brie grabbed for her purse as she lost her balance. Contents sprinkled over the linoleum floor as she crashed to her side.

Eyeing the Taser, she flipped on her back, scooting backward while Gomez advanced. The knife hung menacingly in his right hand as he smiled evilly down at her.

Another scoot, she reached back, presumably to gain leverage on the slippery floor.

"I'm tired of messing with you. Start talking now and I might end your suffering sooner."

Brie panted with exertion, trying miserably to ignore the pain in her lower belly where the knife had struck. Her blood covered not only her clothing and hands, but the floor, too. As she continued to draw backward, her feet left slide marks in the red liquid.

"I don't know…anything." She managed to gasp out once more.

Her heart jumped as her fingers latched onto the pink Taser partially covered by her now empty handbag.

Careful not to let on, she continued with her pitiful efforts to escape, falling to her side in order to hide the weapon she'd managed to retrieve.

Hairy male legs stopped inches from her as he stared down. She breathed deep and waited for possibly her one and only chance.

He reached out. She twisted, narrowly missing his questing hand, sitting up in the process. Bringing the Taser up, she pushed it outward, making sure to get as close as possible to him before pulling the button with all her might.

A loud screech followed, along with him falling backward to the floor. She scrambled to put distance between them, keeping constant pressure on the trigger.

"Brie!" A familiar voice hollered her name as navy-blue uniformed men raced in through the door. Two of them jumped on top of Gomez, wrestling his arms behind his back.

Brie sat heavily on the floor, sudden exhaustion replacing the surge of adrenaline. Her belly burned as her heart pitter-pattered. Rye's face appeared in her line of vision.

"Brie? You okay?"

She nodded, too weak and tired to answer.

"I called dispatch for an ambulance. They should be here any time." Gary's voice broke through the melee. "They've got Tabby, too."

Rye nodded at the information, but his eyes never left her face. He reached out to cup her cheek, while a tender kiss landed on her forehead. His mouth opened, but no words emerged.

"Let us through!" An ambulance cart pushed through the crowd stopping beside her. A man and a woman in gray shirts and matching cargo pants began firing questions at her as they squeezed her arm with a blood pressure cuff. Before she could protest, strong arms lifted her and deposited her on the makeshift bed. The room spun, voices carried, before she relaxed into the comfort of the cart and closed her eyes.

 

* * * *

 

Emmie, one of the friendly emergency room nurses, remained in her room, cleaning up from the suture placement. "Who is tall, dark, and surly standing outside your door?"

They were co-workers, not close friends. Yet, in a small hospital everyone knew everyone else. Emmie had transported more than one patient to Brie's medical floor for admission.

"A Neanderthal," Brie answered flatly. Her independent streak had taken a sharp blow from his overbearing attitude.

Emmie chuckled. "Funny. I thought they died out ten thousand years ago."

"Yeah, well. Throwback." Brie winced at the pulling sensation below when she shifted position from her rear onto her side. "Could be reincarnation, I guess. Who knew a weasel would come back with such an attitude?"

Tossing away the last needle in the red plastic biohazard bucket, the tall brunette, still wearing gloves, returned to pat her hand. "I think I could handle attitude from a man if he looked like that one. Talk about eye candy." She licked her lips and closed her eyes briefly. "Can you imagine him hot and sweaty and naked?"

Brie squirmed and swallowed at the thought. Unfortunately, she could. Not something she wanted to focus on at the moment.

A small pang of jealousy hit Brie. Emmie was just the type of woman Rye would go for. Tall, slender, graceful from her former life as a dancer. Dark hair framed her classically beautiful face. She possessed the personality to boot—playful, cheerful, and bubbly. What man could resist her if she set her sights on him? Brie was willing to bet none of them.

A knock sounded at the door. Who could it be now? She had seen the emergency room physician, the OB/GYN, a couple of nurses, the on-call psychologist, a business office representative, and even the social worker. For the life of her, she couldn't imagine who else in this small building would need to see her. "Come in."

Emmie paused at the door, tugging off her gloves, and used the dispenser by the door filled with alcohol hand wash. She shot Brie a small smile, held the door open for Rye to enter, then escaped in his wake.

He stepped into the room, intently looking her over. His eyes flashed, but he didn't speak.

She sighed, twiddling her fingers in her lap. Certainly not the person she wanted to see. Well, he was and he wasn't. The shaken woman inside her wanted to crawl into his arms, soak up his strength and warmth as he held her and whispered soothingly in her ear. He would promise to keep her safe, and no man like Gomez would ever enter her life again.

The solid independent streak inside was determined to stand tall and alone, proving she could handle anything the world threw at her. Embarrassment and shame hid just beneath the skin's surface and this stronger version of her fought to keep it that way. No way could she let him see such vulnerability.

The knife had sliced through her skin, leaving a track from the right lower ribcage at an arc down to her low bikini line. No big damage, but it sure hurt like the devil. The doctor prescribed antibiotics just in case, but assured her that she would be as good as new soon. Stitches were due out in ten days, and he warned her to take it easy for a few days, just in case.

She also sported freshly shaved private parts. Sure, Rye wasn't Superman and could see through her clothing. But she knew, and it made her all the antsier. Hard to be confident when you felt naked.

"You okay?" His gaze still roamed her face as the whispered words escaped his mouth.

She nodded, not sure she could speak in a steady voice. Her luck, her voice would crack and her façade of strength would crumble.

He approached the bed, sitting down at the foot, and reached out to pat her knee through the covers. "You know, they had to call all around to find a doctor willing to come in and take that Taser probe out of Gomez's nuts."

A tiny smile teased at her lips. That was the only good thing about this whole situation. She hadn't meant to do more than hit the man and fry him with enough juice to scramble his brains. She had hit him all right, in the testicles, and who knew what sort of long-term damage fifty thousand volts directly there would do. She hoped a lot.

"How do you know that?" She glanced up to ask. With the stringent confidentiality laws in effect, no one was supposed to know anything.

He pulled a handful of papers from under his jacket. "Police reports. We know everything."

She lowered her head with that declaration as her throat tightened. Of course, they would know. He would know about all her injuries and what it took to fix them.

He scooched up closer on the bed, taking one of her hands into his. "Women who shave down there are damn sexy."

Her face heated to the level of a blast furnace. "Pervert."

He grinned in response, and those dimples flashed. "Never denied it, honey." Leaning in, he placed a kiss to the top of her head, then her nose. "You've been sprung and I'm your chariot ride home."

Several minutes later, Brie had discharge papers in hand. The emergency room had scrounged up some hospital scrubs for her to wear home. Emmie helped dress her as she went over the discharge instructions and advice on care of her stitches. By the time Rye pulled her car around, she stood at the front door, more than ready to head home.

She glanced down at her borrowed scrubs then turned her attention to the strong, dark-haired man sitting in the driver's seat. As if he felt her appraisal, a small grin appeared on his face. Reaching out, he waited. She returned the gesture, gingerly placing her smaller, pale hand in his, taking comfort when he intertwined his fingers with hers, and gave a small squeeze.

They didn't say much during the drive, although Rye kept a close eye on her. More than once she felt his probing gaze, but words were few and far between.

Once they arrived home, she made a beeline for her bedroom, intent on a hot shower to scrub away the memories of Gomez's touch on her skin. Just the thought of what happened sent her skin to crawling, and she prayed soap and water could work wonders on skin hygiene as well as mental trauma.

She stepped from the shower a long time later, when cold water drove her from the sanctuary. She donned the shirt Rye had loaned her their first night together and finished with a pair of loose shorts. Though the movements caused pain from the pull on the newly placed stitches, she managed to brush out her long hair, simply pulling it into a ponytail for easy care.

A long look in the mirror caused her to sigh. Did anyone get the license plate of the truck that hit me? Bags sagged under her eyes, her shin sported a nasty purple bruise that matched the same vibrant colors along her stitched up cut, while her knees bore fresh abrasions, red and raw from the struggles on a hardwood floor. Various small cuts and bruises speckled the rest of her body. She resembled the poster child for domestic abuse.

Might as well get it over with before Rye decided to come looking for her. She lifted her chin, softly opened the door, and walked down the hall.

Worry creased Rye's face as she emerged from her bedroom.

She focused on his face and eyes, trying to read each and every thought written there.

His gaze flicked over her quickly, yet thoroughly, before a corner of his mouth uplifted casually. "Dinner's ready."

Her feet padded softly and almost automatically to the kitchen table. Rye had been busy while she washed the dirt, blood, and fears down the drain.

"Thank you." She picked up a spoon and ladled a bite of hot soup. Leaning in, she sipped it after blowing across it a couple of times.

He nodded, following her motions. "It's the least I could do."

The words tugged at her heart, spelling out how responsible he felt for the whole situation. Guilt wracked his face and his eyes dulled with the load.

"Rye…" She trailed off as she considered what to say.

He looked at her, setting his glass of soda back down.

"It's not your fault. I made the decision and went of my own accord. You couldn't have known what would happen. None of us could."

A long pause later, he softly answered. "It's my job to know. I'm a cop. We have to plan for the worst case scenario." Reaching out, he gently rubbed his thumb across her discolored chin. "I shouldn't have let you go. I should have been there sooner, before he got his hands on you." His cheek tensed as he took in a deep breath. "I dropped the ball."

"No, you didn't." She leaned into his caress, soaking up the warmth and attention like a frozen icicle on a warm sunny day. "I…I thought…" Her line of vision lowered to the steamy bowl of soup. "I thought it would be simple. After Jack, I guess I got overconfident and cocky."

The scraping of a chair being scooted brought her attention back to Rye. He stood easily, took her hand, and pulled her up beside him.

Unsure of his intentions, she remained still, waiting for his next move.

"Come here." Tugging her hand, he guided her to the couch. He sat with one leg lining the back of the couch, the other bent at the knee, leaving one foot on the floor. Slowly, he settled her between his legs, encouraging her to lean back into his chest. As she complied, he wrapped both arms around her, allowing her to snuggle in.

Brie stiffened for a second, a moment of independence flashing through her mind, before common sense and a wounded heart took over. With a couple of small wiggles, she managed to twist enough to rest her temple against his chest. The beat of his heart eased her tensions as did his fingers lightly stroking her back.

He kissed her crown, adjusted a smidgen, then gave her a gentle hug, careful to avoid getting too close to her stitches. "You sure you're okay?"

Brie remained still, allowing him to soothe her, as she considered his question. A lump formed in her throat preventing any words from escaping. With a nod, she sniffed and focused on that lub-dub sound beneath her ear.

He sighed heavily. "Want to talk about it?" The words were softly whispered against her hair.

"I-I'm not sure." Her soft voice broke with emotion.

He cupped the side of her head, holding her close against him, resting his chin on her crown as he began to speak. "I remember my first hand to hand fight with a criminal. It was hard, messy, and damn scary. All I could think about is he had nothing to lose in killing me."

Brie nuzzled against his shirt. "Were you hurt?"

"Yeah." He didn't elaborate further.

She tilted her head to look into his face, noticing his eyes gazing across the room as if remembering the moment. "How did you get past it?" The words tumbled out.

Rye nudged her ear with his nose, leaving a kiss in his wake. "It gets easier. One day at a time. No, you don't forget, but you realize something else. How special each and every day is."

She took a moment to consider those words before deciding to accept his sound advice. Cherish the moment. She'd heard a similar quote somewhere along the way and it stuck with her.

Resting in Rye's arms marked one of those moments with her. She closed her eyes, leaning heavily into him. "Stay with me?"

"I'm not leaving any time soon." The words rang with truth.

She cuddled into him, feeling safe and warm, something she hadn't been sure she would ever feel again after enduring such a trauma.