Black Ice (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (5 page)

Blake followed him into the main security department, noting the several TVs used to monitor the entire facility. Three uniformed security guards sat in front of them chatting and laughing as they entered, and immediately stopped once they saw Mr. Sheridan.

“Detective, this is Seth Cameron, head of our security department. We keep backups of all happenings on video for a minimum of two years. They’re stored in the back room.” Mr. Sheridan stepped aside as the man he indicated stood to shake Blake’s hand. “Seth, Detective Warren needs the tapes to the security camera from two nights ago. Please see to it that she has them.”

“Sure thing.” Seth motioned to another room at the back of the small area. “I’ll be just a moment.”

“No problem.” She glanced toward the small room that served as a storage area. “I’ll go with you.”

A peppermint flopped around in his mouth, clacking against his teeth. She knew he wanted to question her, and after a quick glance toward his superior, he backed down. He raised his eyebrows and turned silently, granting her access.

She watched from the doorway as he moved about the small room, going immediately for the box in the back as if he knew exactly where he stored the necessary tapes. His behavior wasn’t too suspicious but something felt off.

He pulled the box off the shelf and handed it to her, flipping off the light. “Anything else?”

“This is good.” She glanced down at the black videos. “For now.”

She didn’t like the eerie feeling that came over her when she left the security room. Carrying the box back to the front and out to the car, she met up with Ryder who had a puzzled expression on his face.

“Do you know anything about cars?” he asked her.

“Yeah. I come from a long line of mechanics. What’s up?”

He waited until they pulled out onto the highway before he spoke. “Say I wanted to cut the brake line of a vehicle. Once I made the initial snip, the fluid would leak out onto the pavement, right?”

“One would assume.”

“Okay. I know it’s been two days but stuff like that isn’t easily removed. I asked the valet where they parked the car. He said row 2B. Well, I snooped around, and the only spot I found on the ground was at 16A—catty-cornered from 2B. Either someone is lying or something fishy is going on here.”

* * * *

By the time eight o’clock rolled around, Blake decided to call it quits and put away the case file. They’d been back in Minneapolis for two days, and still, the case was pretty much at a standstill. She’d been over everything with a fine-toothed comb and still had nothing solid for an indictment. She had to be stupid to listen to Ryder about his theories on Rick, but they did make sense. Sophie was his meal ticket in both money and sex. As much as she hated to admit it, Rick Romano would have to be a fool to cut her out of the picture.

She grabbed her coat and said goodbye to the night staff, heading out to her car. She needed sleep and a fresh brain to pick apart the evidence and hopefully find some clues. She unlocked her car door and climbed inside. Her parka barely kept the wind off her back. She inserted the key in the ignition and started the engine, waiting for it to warm up. She didn’t know which was worse, not knowing who killed Sophie or all the speculation and theories rolling around in her head. Both had a tendency to annoy her. She reached for her seatbelt and strapped herself in.

A movement behind her caught her attention and an arm came around her neck, pulling her into a head lock against the driver’s seat. Blake struggled for breath, her hands going immediately to the arm that held her in place. She struggled, the steely grip unmoving as she pulled and clawed at the arm.

“Stay away from this, detective. You have no business digging into Sophie Stevens’ death. Let it go or you’re next.”

Blake choked as she gasped for air. She reached for her gun but the seat belt blocked her from retrieving it. She had to get away from him. She let go of his arm and reached out to slap the horn. The loud blast scared him, and the man pushed her away, forcing her head against the side window as he made his escape out the opposite side door.

Blake unbuckled her seatbelt and threw it aside as she hurried from the car. She grabbed her gun pointing it toward the darkness the man had escaped into. She sucked in oxygen as she tried to calm herself down. He had to be around somewhere. The silent night surrounded her as she walked around the car. She listened, waited for some movement, some sound. She got nothing.

She slammed the open door closed and went back to the driver’s side. Her hand shook as she lowered the gun at her side. The police academy didn’t train her for this. The faint scent of something familiar lingered in the air, surrounding her.
Peppermint.

“Blake?” She turned toward the sound of the voice and pointed her gun at the man. Ryder held his hands up. “Whoa. Take it easy. What’s going on out here?”

He took his eyes off her for a second to glance around the area. She didn’t know the man, but she didn’t take threats kindly. Especially when they had to do with her current case.

He took a step closer. “Whatever harmed you is gone now. Lower your gun.”

She did, returning it to her holster. “Someone waited for me in my car. They choked me from behind and threatened me. They want me to stay away from Sophie Stevens’ case.”

“Are you okay now?” He stood next to her. She didn’t see him step closer.

She nodded. Her head ached.

“How did you get that cut?” He reached out to brush her hair aside and inspected the wound at the side of her head.

“I don’t know. It hurts though.”

He met her eyes. If she didn’t have a headache the size of China, she’d have said something smart. And definitely pushed him away. She closed her eyes. She shouldn’t like being near him as much as she did. His body heat comforted her amid the cold of the night. Maybe Ryder James wasn’t so bad after all.
You must have a concussion. Confusion is the first sign, and Ryder James and nice in the same sentence is major confusion!

“I’m taking you to the hospital. You’ve got a gash on your head that probably needs a stitch or two.” His hands framed her cheeks as he met her eyes. “Then I’m taking you home with me.”

He gave her no room to protest. She should have had some fight in her but, honestly, his words shocked her speechless. He locked her car up and led her to his SUV. After helping her inside, he slammed the passenger’s door and went around the front to the driver’s side. He grabbed his cell phone, and it didn’t take a trained detective to know who spoke on the other end of the line.

“Tell Lou I said hi.” She cringed when she turned her head too fast.

Ryder ignored her comment. He gave Lou the information of her attack and hung up. “Did you see the guy?”

“No. He smelt like peppermint though, and he wore black leather gloves. I felt them around my neck.” She blew out a breath. “By the time I pulled my gun, he’d left.”

“Do you think it was the killer?”

Blake didn’t want to think about that. “It could be.”

Ryder drove in silence. He pulled into the emergency department at the local hospital. He parked his SUV near the door and killed the engine. A moment passed where Ryder did nothing but simply stare into her eyes.

Yep, concussion. Total hallucination.

“Let’s go get you stitched up.”

To Blake’s surprise, Ryder turned out to be a decent friend. Though he didn’t know much information about her, he helped her fill out the paper work and repeatedly replied to the comments the nurses asked her “husband.” He didn’t bother to correct them.

Mrs. Ryder James. Now I really am delusional.

“I’ll just stay in the waiting area,” Ryder said when the nurse called her back.

Blake nodded slightly and followed the lady in purple scrubs. She saw the doctor and received a dot of tissue adhesive. He told her to take some pain reliever for the headache and let her go.

She met Ryder in the waiting area where she’d left him. He sat there looking like he always did with a permanent scowl on his face, thoroughly entertained by three wild children running all over the place. Maybe if she allowed herself to one more delusional comment, she’d actually say he was attractive. Completely arrogant, but hot nonetheless.

“You ready?” he asked, looking up at her.

She nodded.

The wind chilled her to the bone as they stepped outside into the cold. She burrowed in her jacket, shivering. Ryder helped her into the passenger’s seat and slammed the door behind her. Once he settled behind the wheel, she turned toward him.

“I’ll be fine if you want to take me back to get my car.”

Ryder sighed. “I don’t like this, Blake. Strange men hiding out in your car can easily hide out in your home. They can easily make you their next target.”

“I have my gun.”

“And a hell of a lot of good it did you a few moments ago when he came at you from behind and wrapped his hands around your neck.” He huffed a breath.

“I’m a big girl. I’m also a trained officer. I can take care of myself.”

“Fine. I’ll take you home and come get you in the morning before work. I want to make sure your car is checked out before you drive it, okay?”

“What? You think someone would cut my brakes too?” She meant it as a joke, but he wasn’t joking. The grim expression on his face said that much.

“You never know, Warren. I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

* * * *

Blake climbed into bed around midnight after making a date with Ryder to pick her up at seven-thirty the next morning. She tried not to think about the man that attacked her, but that’s all that went through her mind. Ryder didn’t help by saying she was defenseless even with her gun, either. She thought back, trying to put the clues together. Though it was dark and she didn’t see the man’s face, she recognized the smell of peppermints.
That can't be a coincidence.
The man that gave her the videos, the one that gave her the creeps, had a peppermint in his mouth. Completely far-fetched, but a thought she couldn’t get rid of.

She closed her eyes and tried to push thoughts of the case away. She had always convinced herself that, with her gun, she’d be safe. She faced fear dead-on and didn’t back down from anything. So why did it concern her now? Or a better question being, why was she thinking about calling Ryder up and asking him to come back and stay with her?

She knew why.

Tonight she associated Ryder with safety, much like she did her partner. He took her to the hospital. Any respectable human being would have done the same thing.
He was there during my crisis
.
That’s all
. Yet she still wanted his comfort, for him to make everything safe.
Wow, am I pathetic.

Blake pushed up from the mattress after deciding sleep wouldn’t come. Maybe if she had a nice cup of chamomile tea she could relax and settle. She grabbed the gun from the nightstand and left the room. The house was eerily quiet. Blake listened to the creaks in the floor as she walked in bare feet.

“There is nothing to fear but fear itself.” She entered the open kitchen and flipped on the lights. “You’ve never been afraid to live on your own before. Why start now, Blake? Especially after all you’ve been through in life. It’s never been easy but you’ve never been afraid.”

She blew out a breath slowly, and reached in the cabinet for a mug. From the time she turned eighteen and entered the police academy, she’d been on her own, fighting the hard way to get what she wanted in life.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” She laughed a bit hysterically. “There are no real monsters. No boogieman hiding under the bed. There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“Do you always talk to yourself when you’re alone?”

Blake turned and screamed. The mug fell to the floor, crashing against the hardwood. The sound echoed in the large room. Ryder stood in the doorway, eyes wide, though he tried for a look of innocence.

“Don’t do that!” Blake crossed the room and slapped his arm. Once, then twice. “You scared me to death.”

“Sorry.”

“How did you get in here?”

He grinned. “I’ve got special skills, detective.” She propped her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at him. He sighed. “I took your key off your key ring when I followed you inside.”

Blake backed up and leaned against the counter. She didn’t know if she should feel relieved or annoyed. “He’s screwing with my head.”

“Who?” Ryder moved forward to pick up the pieces of the mug. “The masked man?”

She nodded. “I don’t feel safe in my own home. I’ve
never
had that feeling before. I’ve been on my own since I turned eighteen. I haven’t lived with anyone since childhood, and I’ve never been scared of being alone.”

“You were attacked. It’s natural to feel scared. Even if you are a badass cop.” Ryder tossed the pieces into the trashcan. “Which is precisely why I came back. I planned on sleeping out in the car all night, but it got cold, and while I am hot-natured, I really didn’t see the point in staying in a poorly insulated vehicle when I could stay in a warm house.”