Chapter Six

 

Priety sat in the car beside the detective and bit down on her nails. She had bitten off every one of her carefully manicured nails so gave up and placed her hands in her lap. She couldn’t believe it. Not only had she messed up her life but she messed up his life too. His chief threatened to take his badge if he screwed up and she didn’t see how that could be avoided. Thanks to her inquisitive nature, she could be living out of a bag for years to come. He explained they would head out of Eddison, through Lipson and into Saudaa, a small town on the outskirts of Lipson and stay there. Saudaa was the cottage area–where rich people own vacation places. That way he could get work done on the case.

She opened her mouth to ask something when suddenly he glanced in the rear view mirror and swore. The car began moving faster through the smooth morning traffic. “What’s going on?”

“We have a tail,” he responded and ducked through several cars before pulling in front of them.

Not up on her police lingo, she arched a brow and widened her eyes. “A what?”

“We're being followed...”

Deep down she knew she shouldn’t look back but she couldn’t help it. She glanced back and the same car that had been parked out front of Luke’s house earlier was about three cars behind them. “Doesn’t this guy every give up?” she questioned rhetorically.

“Hang on.” Luke ignored her question and floored it.

Priety bit back a scream and grabbed a hold of the dash board as the car made a sharp turn off the highway and swerved around the bend on the ramp. Horns honked behind them but Luke didn’t pay the honkers any attention. He glanced in the rear-view mirror from time to time. Merging into traffic, Priety screamed. The car was heading right for a large eighteen wheeler that merged around the same time Luke did. She pressed her eyes shut, ground her teeth, trying desperately not to scream again. Tires screeched. She kept her eyes squeezed shut and waited for it all to be over. When she didn’t feel anything and the car kept going, she dared to open one eye. She didn’t see the truck and glanced behind her quickly to see it safely behind them.

“Slow down!” Priety shrieked.

“Do you want to die?”

“Okay...don't slow down!”

Luke was still speeding. Glancing behind them again she saw why. The car that had been following them was swerving from side to side trying desperately to pass the truck. If she hadn’t been so scared she would have been angry at the guy’s persistence. The car sped through the traffic with other vehicles honking at them.

“Damn.” Luke swore and she turned to look what he was swearing at. A traffic block was ahead of them forcing them to exit the highway if they wanted to get where they were going in one piece. Swerving around a bend on the ramp, she glanced back to see the car coming after them.

“This is ridiculous.” Luke frowned and after making a left turn onto a less crowded street, he slammed on the brakes while yanking the wheel violently to the left. The car spun sideways screeching to a stop.

“What are you doing?”

“Keep your head down and stay in the car,” he ordered, reaching for his gun. “If things get bad I want you to get into the driver’s side and drive!”

“But…”

“Just do it!”

Luke ducked a bullet.

Priety screamed but dove for cover.

* * * *

Luke was barely out of the car when a bullet whizzed by him. He sunk behind the car and listened to the bullet smash the window of his side of the car and Priety screaming. Rising cautiously, he lifted his gun to fire but ducked again as the assailant fired at him.

He aimed for the car and fired. He missed but fired two more and moved, being careful to keep his car between him and the killer’s gun.

He was about to duck again when a bullet caught him in the shoulder. The force of it lifted him slightly off the ground and backward. He slammed into the ground and grunted as pain soared through his body causing him to grit his teeth. Dragging himself forward he moved to the opposite side of the car and lifted his gun but the car was already speeding away. It was too far to waste another bullet.

Leaning heavily to one side, he walked over to where the other car was and inspected the area; nothing but broken glass and annoyance caused him to want to throw his head back and howl. There were no casings which meant chances were the bullet in his shoulder would be from a revolver. The assailant had been careful—too careful to be a novice. The thought that perhaps this person knew the way cops operated and what evidence the cops would look for after a shoot-out crossed his mind. There were no shells, which meant they’d tied something around the gun to catch the shell casings or had used a revolver.

Another dead end.

Everything on his body hurt. Breathing pained him even though he took the hit in his arm. He walked back to his car and yanked the door open. Moaning he fell heavily into the driver’s seat and instantly Priety gasped.

“You were shot! We have to get you to a hospital!”

“And say what?” Luke wanted to know as he closed the door and with effort managed to start the ignition and drive off. “I’ll be fine…”

“You’re going to bleed to death….”

“If I go to the hospital they will call my chief, who will freak out and eventually it would make it to the media and back to this jerk that I’m hurt–which will give him added incentive to come after you.”

“You can’t just walk around with a bullet in your arm—”

“Let it go, Priety. Stop being overly dramatic, it’s only a flesh wound.”

“I may not know much about bullet wounds, detective,” Priety sounded irritated, “but I know a flesh wound when I see one and that is not a flesh wound. Do you at least have a first aid kit where we’re going?”

“Yes.”

* * * *

Priety didn’t give him a chance to breathe when they got to the cabin and Luke didn’t have the strength to argue with her. He simply pointed in the direction of the first aid kit and then sat back while she worked on him. He tried removing his shirt so it wouldn’t be destroyed but she shoved his hands away, gripped both sides around the bullet hole and tugged. The material ripped easily in her hand and he wanted to say something funny—something he hoped would take away the sad look in her eyes. He wanted to tell her he didn’t want a woman to rip his shirt unless they were making love or something equally funny to see her big eyes smile but he couldn’t manage it.

His body jerked when she used a clean piece of white cloth to wipe away the blood. The soft material grazed over the wound and he wanted to scream. He held his breath and waited until she finished the task and then his chest heaved. Gritting his teeth, he watched as she poured whiskey over tweezers to sterilize them. Taking the bottle from her hands he chugged from it before handing it back. When she pressed the tweezers into the wound to get the bullet, a growl escaped his throat. Whoever said that alcohol killed pain lied. Still the bullet didn’t budge.

“I don’t like this,” Priety spoke. “I don’t like causing you pain. I still think I should drive you to a hospital.”

“I’ve been through worse…”

 

Priety didn’t see how it could get any worse, with the possibility of bleeding to death or getting an infection or both. Pouring some of the whiskey over the wound, she made a crying sound when he took in a sharp intake for breath and a rumbling sound left his lips. She looked down into his face and winced. He was in pain. She could see it in his eyes just before he squeezed them shut. He held his breath and turned his head away from her; and it was all her fault. Sweat poured off his forehead and hers. He saved her life and now she was hurting him.

She gritted her teeth and moved forward a little. She could see the end of the bullet in his shoulder and each time she reached toward it and felt him tense, she whimpered and pulled back.

“Priety,” he whispered, “I’m not fragile. I promise you. I won’t break. Even though it’s not something to brag about, I have been shot before. I can handle it.”

He lifted a free hand to touch her cheek and wipe a lonely tear away. “Just go for it. And whatever you do, don’t touch the bullet. We’re gonna need it for evidence.”

“You were shot and you’re still worried about evidence? What the hell is wrong with you? Hang the damn bullet!”

“Priety, if you ever want your life back, that bullet could be a step toward that. Don’t touch the bullet.”

When she nodded at him, he smiled weakly at her. This time she went into the raw wound. He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth and held his breath when she yanked it back. The bullet made a sucking sound when it exited his shoulder and then a slight popping sound.

Tilting his head back, he groaned and ground his teeth to keep from crying out.

       “Drop the bullet into that bowl,” he repeated in a frail voice. “We need it for evidence…”

He watched her as she did what he asked. She turn to begin bandaging him up.

“Thank you, Priety.”

“You’re welcome,” she sobbed. “I should get you up. You shouldn’t be on the ground. It can’t be good for your back.”

“No, just leave me here for a bit,” he whispered with his eyes closed. “Just let me…”

Luke fell heavily into the seat and winced as the simple, everyday action took the wind out of him and sent pain surging through his body. He ran his good hand over his head before resting back against the seat.

Images from the Bollywood movie Ajnabee came to his head but instead of the actress, it was Priety. She was dressed in a beautiful, blue, satin night gown and the wind was blowing her long, dark hair behind her. He was there wrapping her hair around his arm and pulling her lips beneath his. Her curves wrapped round his body and her big, brown eyes heated with passion and desire looking up at him. It was such a wonderful feeling to be needed not only for love but for pure, primal lust.

“Luke!”

Luke’s eyes shot open and he glanced around him. He was trying to clear the dream from his head; he thought she was calling out to him.

“Luke!”

“Priety?” he muttered, and ignoring the pain in his shoulder he hurried toward her room. She was sitting up in bed with tears in her eyes and as usual his constant disability with the female gender sprang forth. He took a nervous step backward. It was strange to him that he could teach himself Chinese, chase down killers, get shot and still had no idea how to act around an emotional woman. A woman was the biggest mystery in the entire universe to Luke, a mystery that he had no idea how to go about solving. That used to bother him but he figured if he loved women, he would respect them enough to keep away.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and sat on the side of the bed. He didn’t know what else to do but Luke hoped his presence would calm her. When she tossed her body into his arms, he tilted his hurt shoulder out of her reach and sat there like a bump on a log trying to wrap his mind around the fact she saw him as her protector. Luke saw himself as emotionally inept.

Sighing heavily, he finally wrapped his good arm around her body and pulled her gently into him.

“Help me!” His mind and heart screamed but Luke’s brain couldn’t find the strength for him to say it out loud.

For as long as she needed him, Luke sat there with her head against his shoulder until she breathed softly. He laid her back against the bed. A strand of hair fell into her face and he smiled and took great pleasure in reaching for the soft, dark strand and pushed it behind her ear. Slowly he brought the sheets up to her neck and smoothed her hair back. He took the seat across from her and stayed there, watching over her until morning.

“Luke.” The softness in her voice did his heart well. He shifted in the chair and moaned. The ache in his shoulder was a dull throb compared to the rest of the ache in his back. He had fallen asleep in a rather awkward position.

“Hmm?”

“You stayed all night?”

He gave her a small smile. “Yes. I thought you would sleep better that way.”

He looked away from her–not able to hold her gaze out of guilt. When she went silent he looked back at her and she smiled that beautiful smile and her eyes lit up. Luke started getting up; he wanted to taste her, to hold her. Suddenly, he caught himself and settled for getting up and helping her from the bed.

“Come on,” he told her softly. “We need to get breakfast and then you can look through some mug shots.”

“I’ll do the mug shots first,” she whispered, taking his hand. “I don’t think I can eat anything now even if I wanted. My stomach isn’t sitting right.”

* * * *

Sitting around the small table in the cabin, Priety flipped through sketches of criminals on the laptop. She told him she didn’t remember anything but Luke hoped seeing a picture may bring something back to her. He was hoping the killer was a two time loser that way nabbing him would be easier. But none of the serial killers he knew used the M.O. their current killer was using. The profiler gave him a partial profile but had been quick to explain that the profile could be all wrong because all the information wasn’t in yet. Also, the profiler explained he couldn’t complete a true profile unless the killer committed a third murder. Luke wanted to slam his fist into something.

Then again a profiler has never really helped to catch a serial killer in the past. It was splashed all over the news that the Washington D.C sniper was a white male but it turned out to be two African American males. Luke glared at the paper in his hand as he thought about how useless the Edison city profiler was. He was pretty sure if he got another profiler he or she could have been some help to him.

“Nahi,” Priety whispered, “I got nothing.”

Luke watched her full breasts heave when she pushed the computer from her. He looked away. “All right, we’ll try something else,” he said. He paced one way, then the next.

He didn’t know what else to try to help jog her memory. The only thing he could think of was taking her to the crime scene but that would mean taking her into danger and back into Lipson. He ground his teeth.

“I’ll make something for lunch,” she offered, and he nodded as she left the room. Pulling out his cell phone he dialed Riyu.

“Dude, I need some help,” he quickly explained.

“Where are you?” Riyu asked in a hushed tone. “Keegan is freaking.”

“I can’t tell you that now, it’s a long story. Look, I need you to keep an eye on my place for a while. I have something I need to do.”

“This isn’t like you, Sarge,” Riyu used Luke’s old nickname. “But fine, I’ll keep an eye on the place.”

“And there’s something else.”

“Name it.”

“I’ve got a bullet I need tested and you’re closer,” he spoke to his best friend. “Can you give me a hand?”

“Where did you get a bullet?”

“My shoulder.”

“What?” Riyu sounded incredulous. “You were shot? God! I’m going to call Keegan and have him find you.”

Luke held up a hand even though Riyu couldn’t see him. “No, wait. I’m all right. I’m still standing. We’re going to come see you in a bit.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’ll explain later.”

“Okay, I’ll stay at the house until you get here.”

“Thanks, man.”

“And Sarge?”

“Yeah?”

“Try to stay out of trouble.”

Luke managed a laugh. “You know me,” he said before flipping the phone shut and turning back to face the window. As he leaned against the frame his mind went from the deranged killer to Priety. He saw her body in his clothes and he moaned and rubbed a hand over his face to kill the images. Luke could see himself wrapping his arm around her long, black hair pulling her lips to his. Biting back a groan he tried bringing his thoughts back to what he had to do but was unsuccessful. The intimate thoughts ravaged his mind and caused him to lick his lips. Her curves looked inviting and he wondered briefly how they would feel wrapped around him.

“Damn,” he swore softly.

“Come and get it!” her voice rang from the door and he couldn’t help but smile.

* * * *

Priety stood by the door watching him. He was rubbing his face as if he was tired and she wished he would rest. She couldn’t remember him sleeping. But if he was anything like the cops she had seen in the movies, there was no sleep in Luke Stanton’s future. He wouldn’t stop until the bad guy was either dead or rotting in jail. She smiled and a sense of safety rushed through her core.

Turning on her heels she walked back into the kitchen with a little more swish to her hips. He walked in the kitchen behind her and she motioned to a chair and placed a plate with a ham sandwich before him. She placed a glass of juice down before serving herself.

They ate in silence until she couldn’t take the silence anymore. “Do you have a family, Detective?”

When he didn’t answer she looked up to see him staring at her. “Sort of,” he replied and looked down at his half eaten sandwich.

“Sort of? It’s either you do or you don’t.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it’s that simple.”

“My parents are always off somewhere or working,” he admitted. “My older brother is Arcadia SWAT so I rarely see him but once in a while for a few beers or if something is wrong.”

Priety nodded. “I see.”

Silence fell over the room and she realized he wasn’t much of a talker.

She sat back in her chair and watched him. He broke his sandwich up in pieces and shoved them around on his plate. Priety began wondering what her parents would have said if she brought home a black man as the love of her life. They probably would have been uncomfortable with it at first until they saw what a good man Luke was.

Blushing, she lifted a stray piece of ham to her lips and looked down at her plate. “Do you have a girlfriend?” she found herself asking before she could stop.

“No.”

“Married?”

“No.”

“Were you ever married?”

“What is this? The Spanish inquisition?”

“I’m just curious.”

He lifted his head. She flushed under his intense scrutiny.

“I never got around to it. My last girlfriend said I’m emotionally handicapped. I think those were her exact words. Can't say I blame her. I think I spend too much time playing inspector gadget to care for anyone.”

“Oh.”

When he thanked her for the food and left the table she sighed and picked up the plates. He hadn’t eaten much and she knew he had to be hungry. She missed talking to Kerry. Priety took her time washing the few dishes before going to find him.

He was on the speaker phone with Chief Chen. She sat down silently in a plush chair to listen.

“Something came in with your name on it.” The chief yelled as usual. “A package.”

Luke cleared his throat. “Did you open it?”

“No, it has your name on it. Why the hell would I open it?”

“I didn’t order anything so open it.” He tried remembering if his brother, Riyu or Michel had sent him something but that didn’t make any sense. If they wanted to give him something they would drive it over to him. That thought caused a strange twisting feeling to grip his insides.

The line went quiet. He heard ruffling and then an expletive, “It’s just a cassette. Hold on let me play it.”

“Hello Detective Stanton.” The voice seeped over the line like a curse over one’s soul. It wasn’t a real voice. The person disfigured it beyond recognition to hide his identity. “You have something I want. So here’s the deal. One girl per week until you hand her over!” There was a scream and then a sharp sound and then quiet.