| |
Darby
Back at my desk, I stood to check my e-mail. The captain left while I was logging in. I had a couple things from Xander in the lab, but it wasn’t anything that would help me find where Winifred had bedded down. They’d been working extra-hard on tracking her, but the woman was a ghost.
Considering she’d simply vanished off the bus earlier, and as one of us had suggested, perhaps she really had invisibility power. That would make her harder to find.
I filed the speculation away.
After I sent a gushy e-mail to the lab techs to thank them for coming in on their day off, I logged off and prepared to leave.
It felt like I was giving up. I knew it wasn’t the case, but Prairie was still dead, and if we caught up with Labbee even in the next day or so, the chances were getting slimmer that I’d bring Rasmussen back.
I hated feeling so powerless. I hated knowing I was letting someone’s family down. Of course, most didn’t see it like that.
But some still did.
As I tossed my coat over my shoulder, I tamped down on my feelings of helplessness. Usually, I had Mark there to help me when we reached this point in a case. But he’d gone home.
Suddenly, with that realization, I longed to see him again. He’d know what to say to ease my melancholy.
And offer one of his winning smiles along with it.
In the elevator, I thought about all the ways he’d helped me in the last few years. My heart swelled as I remembered the teasing, the laughter, the hugs when things got rough.
He gave great hugs.
I definitely needed one right now.
I swallowed hard as I came to the realization. Was I...?
No, I couldn’t be.
He was my partner.
Despite how he felt about me, he’d also slept with my best friend.
I had every reason to hate him right now.
I hadn’t inadvertently fallen in love with him.
Had I?
I bit my lip. Darby Patricia Shaw, would you stop denying how you feel about the one man who’s been chasing you for the last two years? Would you just admit you love him?
I paused outside the lift, leaned against the wall for a moment, and closed my eyes, allowing myself to do some soul searching. My memory turned to two years ago, in Loose Park, when he’d first told me he loved me.
I’d loved him even then.
Somehow, the love had grown silently these last couple years. I hadn’t been aware of it, not until I’d gone looking. Now I could see him plain as day, not just my partner and friend, but the man I was desperately in love with.
How had I not seen it before now?
Something deep within urged me to get back to him as quickly as I could, and I raced to the Flexion and engaged the hover mode and lifted off barely outside the Bendex parking lot. Then I put through a comm.
It rolled to voicemail. “Mark, I’m on my way back. I’m probably going to invite Simon, so set an extra plate. Also...I think there’s something we need to talk about. See you in a few minutes.”
I ended the comm and put my hands back on the controls after disengaging the pilot. Everything was fine at his house. He was probably...doing something without his comm on him.
Why had a nervous twinge started to shake itself loose in my belly then?
I pushed the accelerator as fast as the governor would allow, then when I had to slow down to come into Mark’s neighborhood, I called Simon. He’d had dinner but said he’d enjoy the company and perhaps some dessert, so he’d be over later.
The nervous dance in my stomach picked up steam as I followed the streets around to Mark’s. I had to just be nervous about what I needed to tell him, and whether I’d have a chance to do so before our boss and his wife plus my dad arrived.
Or maybe it was the case. I was keyed up because Winifred was still on the streets.
That had to be a lot of it.
I pulled to a stop across the street from Mark’s house, and sat in the seat for a minute. I checked my makeup (nearly non-existent after the day I’d had), my hair (tolerable, but not spectacular by any means), and my teeth.
I took a deep breath.
This was ridiculous.
I was worried about what Mark was going to say if I told him...if I told him what? He’d been telling me he loved me for two years.
He’d reminded me he cared for me earlier this morning. Maybe it would catch him off guard that I came around on today of all days, but I was sure he’d reciprocate willingly enough.
I hoped.
As coolly as I could, I got out and crossed his street and made my way up to the house, keycode out and ready to buzz through his system.
But when I reached the front door, it was slightly ajar.
Not. Like. Mark.
I put my code away and took out my Glock. Maybe he’d gotten my message and left it so I wouldn’t have to screw with it.
But even I didn’t believe that.
We were both cops. And he had to know I would be on edge with Winifred on the loose. He wouldn’t make me freak out.
I nudged the door open with my toe and aimed the gun down, ready to sweep it up.
Cautiously I stepped in.
His armchair was toppled on its side, along with two of the dining room chairs.
“Mark?” I called out, gun still down.
I listened for a response as I looked around.
Some of the pictures on the wall near where I’d come in were askance.
I heard a gasp behind me and turned.
“Mark?”
Still cautious, I hurried over behind the couch.
On the floor in front of it, Mark sprawled over his rug.
A couple dozen stab wounds decorated his chest.
“Oh, God, Mark!”
I holstered my gun and crouched next to him. Then I ripped his shirt open.
He gasped for breath.
I put my hands on both sides of his chest.
The energy between us flickered, high then low.
He winced but still gasped.
The mandatory first aid training kicked in as I tried to assess what was going on and how to help.
He looked at me and opened his mouth.
Blood spilled out.
“Hang on, Mark. I’m going to get help.”
I shifted my position and tried to take my hands from his chest. They were sticky, like superglue had been applied and I was breaking the drying process.
But they came.
I wiped the blood away from his mouth, pinched his nostrils, and breathed into him, forcing air into his lungs.
I did it again, even though air gurgled from the wounds in his chest.
I pushed back and said, “I’m calling an ambulance. Hang on.”
Grabbing his hand, I said, “Dispatch, Detective Darby Shaw. Officer down. Repeat, officer down. My location. Multiple stab wounds. Please confirm.”
My badge crackled. “Confirmed. EMT and additional units en route to your location.”
“Oh Mark,” I said, once I was sure I had backup coming. “Who did this?”
He opened his mouth again, but all he could do was gurgle. His eyes were fading, losing strength and focus.
I smoothed his hair back, leaned over him again, and pushed two breaths into his mouth. Tears started to pour onto his cheek. From both of us.
Oh, Lord, please let that EMT team get here soon. There was so much blood, it was pointless for me to try to press the wounds. There were too many to count.
“Hang on, Mark,” I said, then gave him more air. I kissed his lips before I pulled back. “You’ve got to hold on. I love you.”
He squeezed my hand, then he went limp. The electricity between us faded, then stopped altogether.
“No, no, no, no, no!” I shook him, knowing it was hopeless. He was dead. “Mark, no. You can’t leave me now.” I sobbed. “You just can’t!”
I leaned over him again, shoved air into his lungs, and tried chest compressions. Tears blinded me, stinging my eyes.
But I had to bring him back.
I blinked the tears away, trying to hold in my crying, and started to lean down to breathe for him again.
Something moved out of the corner of my eye.
I stopped compressions and grabbed my Glock. “Who’s there?”
A woman’s laugh rang out.
Winifred.
“Show yourself,” I ordered, stronger than I really felt.
“Why don’t you make me, Detective?”
I couldn’t see her. But the voice was from the room. I’d swear to it.
“Winifred Labbee, you’re under arrest.”
“You have to catch me first!”
I aimed where I heard the voice. Pop! Pop!
The bullets shot into Mark’s living room wall.
“You’ve killed a police officer and a DSHA agent. There’s not an agency in this country who won’t hunt you down.”
I caught the cushion shift on the couch and lunged to the side, shooting just behind the shift.
Blood spurted. She shimmered into view at the opposite end of the couch, blood dribbling.
“Not bad,” she said. “You’re tougher than I gave you credit for. Sorry about your lover.” She grinned evilly. “But I would be lying if I said I’m not pleased to make you suffer.”
She bled from the arm. It hadn’t been a great shot on my part, but it had at least nicked her, especially considering she’d been invisible at the time.
“Me suffer? Oh no, sweetheart, you’ve got it wrong.” I pushed up, keeping the gun trained on her. “You’re going to be the one suffering. After I revive Mark and Rick and Prairie.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
Her hands slowly morphed into blades. They still looked like fingers, but the shapes most definitely had a blade-like look.
I should have been scared. Petrified, even.
But I was pissed.
Almost as soon as her hands shifted, she lunged for me.
I didn’t move quickly enough.
She landed on me and stabbed down.
But she couldn’t touch me.
Electricity flared. I could hear it more than see it, but I could see it, too. It shimmered inches in front of my face.
And encompassed my entire body.
I could feel the electricity, much like I felt the electricity when I did a resuscitation or touched Mark. But this was focused in a swirl around me.
And whatever it was, it kept Winifred from laying a hair on me.
Well, this was new.
“For shame, Detective. Holding out on the DSHA about your powers? They won’t be pleased.”
I narrowed my eyes and stood, shoving her off my, for lack of a better term, shield. “Most supers have two. I doubt they’ll be surprised.”
Outside, I heard sirens. They were far off. But closer, a car door slammed. Talking, some laughter. One woman, one man.
I flicked my gaze out Mark’s front windows.
The Moustakases.
Shit!
Winifred saw them too. She moved toward the door.
“Captain! Stay back!” I screamed for all I was worth.
I ran at her and knocked her down.
She rotated and sliced at me with her bladed-fingers.
They bounced off my shield like a ricochet.
She yowled in pain.
I swung my hand at her, not willing to use my gun with the shield or in these close quarters.
She deflected.
I aimed again, going for her gut.
I caught her this time, and it impacted her solar plexus.
She gasped for breath, then shoved me off.
I flew back, landing in the chair marking the edge of Mark’s great room. “You won’t get the captain or his wife,” I muttered. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”
I leapt up, jumping onto the couch and used it to bounce and tackle her. My shield remained in place.
“Detective, what’s going on?” Moustakas cried when they came in the still-open door.
I swung my gun at the back of Winifred’s head. It connected with a loud thwack!
Winifred collapsed.
I took a deep breath and shakily removed myself from her body, then bent over to check for life.
She was still breathing.
My shield flickered, then died.
I looked up at my boss, barely noting his wife behind him. “She...she was here. She...she...killed...Mark.” With my gun hand, I pointed back at Mark’s body. “Mark’s dead, Captain. I couldn’t stop it.”
He closed the distance to me and cautiously took my gun from my hand. “Don’t need any accidents now, Detective,” he said quietly. “Vera, can you check Detective Shaw?”
She nodded and crossed to me. I seemed to remember she was a retired nurse.
She sat me down as my boss went over to Mark’s body. He didn’t remain there long.
“Cuffs, Detective?”
I was shaking, but I drew them out and put them in his hand.
He held them for a moment, then patted me on the shoulder. “You can bring him back, Detective. You know you can.”
I nodded. Intellectually, I knew that.
But my partner was dead.
He’d died in my arms.
Right after I told him I loved him.
The captain snicked the cuffs on Winifred’s wrists. “So, what are her powers?”
I swallowed hard and tried to stay present. “Invisibility. Morphing. Her fingers...they turned into blades. Don’t know which is primary or secondary.”
“Okay,” the captain said, “now, you called for backup?”
“Yeah, sir. Before I knew Winifred was here. Before Mark...”
He crossed, took me by the shoulders, and shook me gently. “We have his killer. You can use your powers and bring him back.”
I looked around him to his wife, who was looking over Mark’s body. “But I could have stopped this.”
He put his arm around my shoulders when the sirens shrilled to a stop out front. “We’ll make it right.”
We stood aside as the EMTs came in. They took one look at Winifred and started working.
I cleared my throat. “She’s fine. She’s going to have a headache, but she’ll be fine. Worry about him. Get him to the hospital.”
They shifted and went to Mark. “He’s dead,” Vera said.
“How long?”
They talked to me.
I answered their questions.
Additional officers arrived. So did CSU. Lieutenant Douglass came.
Then Simon.
A team from DSHA showed up plus the SHS to take Winifred Labbee to the hospital. An EMT went with them to keep her sedated.
After what seemed an eternity, the EMTs loaded Mark’s body onto a stretcher, covered him with a sheet, and loaded him in the back of the ambulance. Lieutenant Douglass and I climbed in the back with him.
We were silent on the ride.
The captain and lieutenant had already made the needed calls, and everything would be ready for me. Amanda and Ian were being brought in. The captain had left earlier to inform Mark’s mother and bring her to the hospital.
Simon and Genova were meeting us there.
I started to draw back the sheet on the bumpy ride, then stopped myself.
“You can see him,” Douglass said in her southern drawl. “Go ahead. I’m not gonna mind.”
I didn’t need a second suggestion. I pulled the sheet down to Mark’s waist. Someone had closed his eyes. It hadn’t been me. Vera? Douglass maybe?
He had 35 wounds in his chest from what we could count. If Winifred had used all five of her fingers, she’d stabbed him at minimum seven times.
I’m sorry, Mark. I shouldn’t have let her get you. I should have stopped her.
I took his hand, wishing for the warmth of his body, the sizzle of our connection.
He was already cooling. And without him alive, the sizzle wasn’t present.
My lip quivered, and I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I cupped the side of his face, not caring what Douglass thought. “Mark.”
I stroked my thumb over his cheek.
He was scratchy. Definitely a day’s growth.
Douglass’ comm buzzed. She tapped it and held a short conversation. When she was done, she reached across Mark’s body and put her hand on my arm. “Everyone’s in position.”
I nodded. “His sisters and mother?”
“I think so.”
I nodded. “I don’t know if I can do three, Daphne.”
“Just because you never have before doesn’t mean you can’t.”
I swallowed hard. “It took me forever when I did a second. It could be hours for me to recover.”
“Do Mark first. He’s the freshest.”
“He’s also got more time to wait,” I said, shaking my head. My heart broke. I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to make sure I’d have my partner back.
But that was selfish.
“I have to try Prairie first.”
She frowned but looked down at Mark. “Okay. Do what you have to.”
“Thank you.”
I took a final gaze at Mark, then drew the sheet back up over his head.
I wasn’t sure I’d be ready, but I’d damn well do my best.