Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) (12 page)

She nodded against his chest.
How long could she hide-out at his place?
That wasn’t the solution. She needed this finished.

“We need to call the police,” Mike said. “Now they’ll pay attention.”

“But will it matter?” she asked, looking up at him.
They hadn’t been able to help his sister,
was all she could think.
Deep down she already knew that the police couldn’t protect her. No one could. That was why she’d bought the gun. And now she was determined that if she had a chance to kill the bastard, she would.

He didn’t know what to say. The police may not be much help, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to her. There was no way this sick S.O.B. was getting his hands on her. “Do you want me to make the call?”

She shook her head and said, “No. I can do it. Let me blow my nose first.” She walked into the en suite bathroom and froze when she saw the cracked mirror. “Mike,” she muttered, a wave of nausea washed over her. She knelt on the floor beside her birth control package.

Mike stepped into the bathroom doorway. “Leave it,” he said. He was going to crack his teeth if he didn’t stop grinding them together. So he focused on taking the anger from his jaw and clenched his fists at his side.

She looked over her shoulder at him. His face was tight. A vein bulged in his neck, and she could see the anger in his eyes.

“His prints are on that. You don’t want to smudge them.”

She huffed. “We have his prints on lots of things. If he’s not in the system then it doesn’t matter,” she fumed. Anger simmered in every cell in her body. She felt the tension ripple along her skin from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes. That pervert had been in here. Touched her things. Gone through her private possessions. And with the destruction of her things, his obsession had turned violent. She was willing to meet him with a wrath he’d never expect.

Mike hated that she was right, but he was looking at the bigger picture. “This stuff, the prints on the birth control, the cracked mirror, the messed up underwear all tie him to this scene. When we find him, at a minimum, we’ll have him for breaking and entering.”

“B and E!” she said with disdain.
Would that even qualify him for a slap on the wrist?
Since he didn’t have a criminal record, she doubted that he’d see any real jail time.

“It’s a start. Once we have him, then we can start tying him to other things.” Mike looked at her bed. It was clear that she’d made it earlier, but it had definitely been rumpled during the day. The comforter was bunched in the middle. The accent pillows were out of place. One lay on the floor beside her bed. He knew what the man had done on her bed, and he wanted to kill him for it. There was no way that this wouldn’t end in blood. That was just how these things went down.

She walked back into her bedroom and noticed the bed. “Look!” she barked, pointing at the bed. “He even got on my bed. What a pervert!” She screamed. She picked up the throw pillow from the floor and started hitting the headboard and other pillows in a rage. The accent pillows flopped with each hit and bounced around the bed like Mexican jumping beans.

Mike watched her personal pillow fight as she destroyed the arrangement of pillows at the head of the bed. He’d expected her to be a mess of emotions, but he hadn’t expected her to be this kind of mess of emotions. He was prepared for tears and snot to be smeared on his shirt as she buried her face in his chest. But this rage was interesting. He actually liked it. She was a fighter.

He retrieved his cell from his pocket and texted Cole. Cole would get on the information he’d left at work and try to piece something together. Then Mike called the police.

Mike walked to Alisha and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her back against his chest and nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Let’s go downstairs and wait for the police.”

She still held the pillow, her hair was now a wild mess, her chest heaved with each breath, and her eyes narrowed. She stepped around so she looked directly at him. “I’m really pissed,” she seethed. “And I don’t normally swear, so you can imagine just how pissed I am. I’m so pissed that I may transform into a puddle of piss right here on my carpet.” She jabbed her finger towards the carpet.

It was clear that she didn’t cuss very much. She really didn’t do it very well, but he could work with that. He pulled her to him again. Her warm breath heated his chest as she sighed. He slipped his fingers into her hair and massaged her head as he held her close. “Baby, if you turn into a puddle of piss, I would be more than happy to suck you up.” She pulled away and narrowed her eyes at him. He couldn’t help but smile. He was trying to bring her back from the edge, and he hoped humor would help.

Alisha laughed into his chest as she pressed herself against his body again. She liked being in his arms. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” she asked. She knew she was all over the place emotionally, and she was glad that he was her rock. She needed someone she could count on, and she’d found that someone at the gun store.

“I try to be,” he said, deciding that her laughter was better than rage. “Let’s go downstairs and wait for the police.” He stepped out of the embrace, letting his hand slide down her arm so he could take her hand as they went back to the family room.

Alisha plopped onto the sofa on the first floor while Mike went to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. Even though she had no idea what her stalker looked like, she couldn’t help but visualize a creepy man pawing through her things. The notion revolted her.

Forrest must have sensed her jumbled emotions because he circled her feet, then took a running jump and landed beside her on the sofa.

“Who’s a good boy,” she cooed as he settled into her lap. Looking at that little bundle of energy and love did help soothe her emotions. She inched her fingers into his hair at the top of his head and scratched. He gave a bark in appreciation. She fiddled with his long hair and considered putting a little bow at the top of his head again.

Forrest must have read her thoughts because he stood on his back legs and propped his front legs on her shoulder. He gave her a slobbery kiss on the cheek and took off.

Mike tried to work the problem as he walked through the kitchen to get the water. He had some knowns, but there were still too many unknowns. Since the stalker didn’t have a record, he was probably someone who blended into society and typically played by the rules. The man was most likely white and in his twenties or thirties. Stalkers usually stuck with their own race and age range. He wasn’t sure about the stalker’s relationship status. Normally he’d think the guy was single. That would explain his focus on Alisha. But Mike knew outliers were a possibility. The man could feel trapped in a miserable marriage and see Alisha as an out, a sort of solution to his problem. Right now, Mike didn’t want to make assumptions. The cost would be too high if he missed something because he’d closed his mind to a possibility. He grabbed a water bottle off the top shelve of the refrigerator and made his way to the sofa.

“Thanks,” she said as she took the bottle from him. She twisted the cap and took a long draw, gulping down the water. Mike sat beside her and set his arm on the top of the sofa behind her. She leaned into his side and rested her head on his shoulder as they waited for the police.

When the doorbell rang, Mike strode to the door and welcomed the police inside. He quickly introduced himself and showed the two officers to the family room where Alisha waited on the sofa. When she saw them, she stood and held out her hand. “Hello,” she said.

Police officers came to school annually to talk about drugs with kids. She’d always chatted with them, but she never imagined one would be at her house in an official capacity.

“Alisha, this is Officer Nichols,” Mike said.

Officer Nichols extended her hand and shook Alisha’s. Alisha liked the warmth she saw in Officer Nichols’ light brown eyes. They softened the hardened look the tight bun gave as a first impression.

“I’m Officer Smith.” The man gave her a curt nod and looked around the room. He hated these calls. There was usually nothing they could do to help. Most B & E cases never got solved. They’d end up with a pile of paperwork and another unsolved case. It was frustrating.

Alisha nodded to Officer Smith. He hadn’t offered his hand for a shake, so she didn’t bother extending her hand to him. Of the two officers, she liked Officer Nichols the best. She seemed approachable and eager to help. Officer Smith, on the other hand, was clearly looking forward to his retirement years. With his bald head, deep lines that etched his face, and rotund belly that hung over his belt, retirement was barreling down on him.

Alisha wasn’t sure what the protocol for meeting police officers under these circumstances was. She cleared her throat and said, “Someone broke into my house. He’s been stalking me for a while.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning,” Officer Smith said. He had a feeling this would be a lengthy explanation. He tried to smile, but it was getting harder and harder for him to pretend that he loved his job. He’d seen to many criminals slip through the justice system and too many victims left to deal with the aftermath that haunted them. It made him feel weak and powerless that he couldn’t help more people.

“Okay,” Alisha said. Her nerves rattled her. She wanted to be strong, to courageously confront her enemy, but in reality, the true danger of her situation was getting harder and harder to downplay. “You can sit if you’d like.” She forced a smile and motioned to the seating options in the room.

Officer Nichols read the stress on Alisha’s face. She wanted to help her feel at ease. They normally didn’t sit while they were at a crime scene, but if sitting would help Alisha relax, she’d do sit. Officer Nichols gave a slight nod to Officer Smith. He understood her meaning.

Officer Smith sat in the reclining chair. He wished he could pop up the footrest, lean back comfortably, and settle his hands on his lap, but he didn’t. He leaned forward and rested one arm on his knee and held a notepad in one hand and pen in the other. Officer Nichols went to the love seat. She adjusted her utility belt and sat. Mike nestled close to Alisha on the sofa.

Alisha started at the beginning, with the delivery of the flowers to school. Mike retrieved the box of crazy she’d collected over the weeks to show the officers. And she summed up the retelling with the message written in the soil and the destruction to her bedroom. She handed Officer Nichols her cell, glad they’d taken pictures of the message in the soil earlier.

Officer Nichols scanned through the photos. “Do you mind if I send these to myself?”

“Go ahead,” Alisha replied. From reading the officers’ faces, she had a feeling that they would be of little help.

Officer Smith stood from the recliner. It rocked at the loss of his weight. “Would you show us your room?” He adjusted his utility belt and rocked back on his feet.

Alisha nodded and took her cell back from Officer Nichols. She led the officers upstairs. Anger boiled within her. She didn’t know what her next step should be. How could she fight someone she couldn’t see? It seemed like this whole time she’d been on the defensive, but she wanted to be on the offensive. She thought when she’d bought the gun that she’d started that, taking control, but she was wrong. She was no better off now than she was before she bought the gun.

Alisha led the officers down the upstairs hallway. “This is my room,” she said. They followed her into her bedroom. Alisha looked at the window. She’d never imagined a man would crawl through her second floor window in order to harm her. In the spring and fall she liked to sleep with it open so she could enjoy the fresh air. Never again would she be able to enjoy that simple pleasure. It wasn’t safe.

Officer Nichols stared at the bed. It had obviously been made at some point during the day, but now the pillows were strewn across the bed and a few accent pillows had toppled to the floor. “Did he do that? Destroy the bed?”

‘No,” Alisha said, somewhat embarrassed. “I did. I got mad. Threw around a pillow… or two.” She gave them a forced smile. “But he had been on the bed,” she stated with a nod. She pointed to the middle of the bed. “It was rumpled in the center. A pillow was also out of place.”

Officer Smith walked across the room towards the en suite bathroom. “You said he broke your mirror.” He stepped into the doorway and looked at the large cracks webbing through the mirror and spotted the broken birth control package on the floor. “You’re on the pill?” He looked over his shoulder at Alisha.

“Yes,” Alisha nodded.

Mike thought the officer’s question was inappropriate. Whether she was taking the pills or not was irrelevant. She obviously has the pills, and the stalker found them and lost his shit. The question was stupid and shouldn’t have been asked, but Mike kept his face neutral. “Clearly he doesn’t like that she’s on birth control,” Mike began. “It appears he got angry when he saw the pills and lost his temper.”

“Hmm,” Officer Smith knelt and picked up the half of the pill container that held the little pills. He was careful to only touch the outer edge. “We try not to make assumptions.” He looked over his shoulder at Mike and then set the pills on the counter. “We like to focus on the evidence.” He hated being told how to do his job. Civilians watch a few television programs and think they’re Dirty Harry.

Officer Nichols stepped up to the dresser drawers. She hated this shit. Someone riffles through a woman’s things, and then the woman is subjected to more embarrassment when she attempts to get help. She wanted to tell Alisha that everything would be all right. That they’d find the man who was stalking her, but she knew better. She pulled open the drawer with the bra straps hanging out. “He went through here? Is anything missing?” She turned her head to see Alisha’s reaction.