Cole in My Stocking (37 page)

Heads adorned with knitted hats and festive headbands blurred across the screen as Heather turned the phone toward the river so I could see the show.

“Thanks, hon,” I shouted over the noise, “but I’ll let you go. Thanks for ringing in the New Year with me!”

The phone swung around again until her freckled face was in frame. She had on a green knitted hat with a pom-pom on top and a scarf wrapped tight against the chilly waterfront wind. “What? Did you say something?”

I laughed. “I’m going to let you go. Enjoy the rest of the show.”

She pushed out her lower lip. “You don’t want to watch with us?” She angled the phone toward our friends Caryn, Paul, and Maggie, tempting me with their familiar, friendly faces. Paul waved, and Maggie smiled. Caryn was watching the fireworks, but when Maggie poked her, she blinked and said, “You’re missing a great show, Mandy.”

“I’ve got the Boston show on Cole’s TV right now. I’ll watch that while I text him. You guys have fun. I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

Heather’s face filled the screen again. “You’re breaking my heart. Are you sure this is what you want?”

“It is,” I assured her. “He’s worth it.”

“Then go for the gold, chica. See you when you’re ready to pack up that apartment of yours.”

“You bet. Happy New Year!”

“Back at you. Tell loverboy I said hi.”

My cheeks heated at Heather’s nickname for Cole, especially after last night. If the whole gang hadn’t been listening in while waiting for the fireworks to begin, I might have summarized the evening for her. As it was, she didn’t know we’d taken a turn for the intimate in our relationship, but from the twinkle in her eye as she’d listened to me talk about Cole, I could tell she understood just how much I cared for him.

I signed off with Heather and started to text Cole. Before I could hit send, I got a message from him.

Happy New Year honey.

I returned the sentiment and told him to stay safe. Then I settled in with a mug of eggnog to watch the rest of the fireworks display on his big-screen. The plan was to wait up for him, but when my ringing phone woke me from a dead sleep, I gathered I hadn’t made it.

Lying on Cole’s sectional, I swiped my phone off the table. It was three twenty-seven, and I didn’t recognize the incoming caller. I answered.

“Mandy, it’s Stacey. I’m so sorry, hon, but it’s Cole. He’s at Exeter Hospital. He got hit tonight while out on patrol.”

My heart lunged into my throat. “What? Hit how? Like by a car?”

“Yes. Someone swiped him in a hit and run while he was writing a speeding ticket.” Her voice trembled.

“How bad?”

“I don’t know. I got the call from our lieutenant ten minutes ago. All I know is Cole’s at Exeter. Rob’s driving us over right now. You want us to swing by and pick you up on the way?”

Stacey and Rob lived in Dover, which was North of Exeter. Newburgh was south. “No. I’ll meet you there.”

I launched myself off the couch and ran for the bedroom. I’d changed into my jammies for the fireworks. Tears pricked at my eyes and my heart hammered as I yanked on jeans and a sweater. Finished dressing, I jogged down the stairs. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

It was cold downstairs, too cold, like someone had left the front door open to the night. A quick glance showed the door was closed, and the security system was armed.

Out of the darkness in Cole’s living room came a voice. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Fear froze me on the bottom step.

I recognized that voice. It was a voice I thought I’d never hear again. It should be impossible that I was hearing it now. I scanned the living room, squinting until movement drew my gaze back to the front door. A moment ago, the door had been plainly visible. Now a shadow in the shape of a man blocked it.

“Dad?”

“There’s a dangerous man out there. Where’s that .45?” The voice wasn’t coming from the shadow. I seemed to be hearing it inside my head.

My heart just about jumped out of my chest, it was beating so hard. A strange sense of time standing still settled over me. Regardless, I needed to get to Cole. “It’s upstairs,” I said, my voice thready with fear. “I’m just driving to Exeter. Cole is hurt. It’s three thirty in the morning.” I was laying out my rationale like I’d been caught out past curfew.
It was just us girls. No one was drinking. No one else has an eleven-o-clock curfew.

“I raised you smarter than that. Go get it.”

The shadow dissipated, and the cold lifted. Time seemed to restart, and my head cleared as if I were waking from a dream. Only after it was gone did I realize my ears had been buzzing with some kind of strange static.

I broke out in a clammy sweat. My hand tightened on the railing.

I was probably still half asleep. That’s all. I certainly hadn’t just spoken with my dead father.

Cole. He was hurt. In the hospital. That could mean so many things, none of them good.

I dashed into the kitchen and grabbed my purse and keys from the counter. While I jammed my arms into my coat near the front door, I paused. Maybe I should go get the gun. It wouldn’t hurt to have it. I could even leave it in the lockbox in the beast if they didn’t allow weapons in the hospital.

I ran upstairs and grabbed the .45 and holster off the bedside table. By habit, I checked the chamber and safety. Not taking the time to slip the holster on, I jogged down the stairs, armed Cole’s security system for away, and locked up. While I crossed the driveway to where the beast was parked in front of Cole’s garage, I heard a vehicle turning off the main road into Cole’s driveway.

The engine noise grew louder as the car approached, but I couldn’t see it through the trees yet. That had to mean the lights were off.

A dark sedan with a dented bumper and a dangling headlight rounded the corner into the clearing between Cole’s house and garage, triggering the security light. Why would anyone be visiting Cole in the middle of the night with their headlights off? It couldn’t be Stacey and Rob. They were headed toward the hospital, and I suspected Rob drove something nicer than this banged up sedan.

My stomach churned with nausea as I remembered hearing my dad’s voice.
“There’s a dangerous man out there.”

As the car pulled to a stop, angled away from me and toward the house, I slipped the gun from the holster and crouched behind the beast. Had I been seen?

Peering around the bumper of the beast, I watched a man get out of the car. His back was to me. In the fluorescent wash of the security light, I could tell his shirt was a burgundy Henley. He also had on a denim vest and jeans that sagged in the butt. No coat, hat, or gloves. Long, dark hair streaked with gray was pulled into a raggedy ponytail.

He staggered toward the house. I recognized that kind of listing gait. I recognized it well. Whoever the man was, he was drunk.

I slipped my phone from my purse and dialed 9-1-1.

The man raised a fist and pounded on the door. “I know you’re in there, Mandy,” he shouted, leaning back to aim his voice toward the second floor. I knew right away from the deep growl of his voice who it was. Gonzo. “And I know your fuckbuddy ain’t coming to your rescue this time. Get your ass out here and tell me where that money is.”

“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?” A female voice. Calm.

The exact opposite of how I was feeling. How did Gonzo know Cole wouldn’t be coming? Had he been listening to a scanner or something?

I gasped. What if Gonzo was the accomplice who had called Brock when he’d been confronting me?

“Someone’s banging on my boyfriend’s door,” I whispered, pushing the orange pin to take the safety off. “I think he’s been involved in a crime, and he’s drunk. It’s Gonz—Gordon Zondovan.”

The dispatcher asked for the address and I gave it.

“Playing coy, huh?” Gonzo grumbled loudly. “Not your style, honey. Not from what I heard. You’re loose as a sloppy shoestring. Why don’t you come down here and tell me where your dad’s money is, and I’ll give you a little reward.” He cupped himself through his jeans and gave a thrust.

I tasted bile.

“Is that him I hear?” the dispatcher said.

“Yes.”

“Are you inside?”

“No. I was going out to my car when he came down the driveway. I’m crouched behind it. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

“Stay hidden. A unit is on the way.”

“No problem. Oh, I should probably let you know I’m armed. I carry concealed. A .45.”

“I’ll inform the officer en route. They’re two miles out. Stay on the line.”

“What have we here?” A male voice behind me. Not Gonzo.

I sucked in my breath and whipped my head around to find a man with a long moustache stepping out from behind the beast. I didn’t recognize him.

“Thought I heard someone whispering over here. Looks like I hit the jackpot.” He must have been riding with Gonzo. When I’d crouched down, I’d lost sight of the car. All the noise Gonzo was making probably covered the sound of this guy getting out.

“Yo, Gonz. Got her. She’s right here.” He came at me, hand outstretched, like he was going to grab me.

Heart in my throat, I dropped the phone and swung the gun up in a two-handed grip. “Back off.”

The man froze mid-step. Hands up, he took two big steps back. He didn’t appear armed, but who knew what might be lurking under his denim jacket. His eyes darted over my head. Gonzo was coming. I heard his footsteps getting louder on the frozen dirt.

I had a decision to make, and I had better make it quick.

I heard no sirens, which meant the cops were at least a couple minutes from arriving. That was a lot of time when you considered how fast a bullet could travel.

Gonzo carried concealed like most of Dad’s friends. He was several paces behind me and probably already had me in his sights. If I let him get any closer, I’d end up at point-blank range between two potentially armed men. My attention would be divided. I’d be a sitting duck.

Making a split-second decision, I lunged up from my crouch and tackled the unfamiliar man around his waist. I figured the odds were good Gonzo had a gun in his hand, and if I looked at him and saw it, I’d be too terrified to act. But he wouldn’t shoot if I was in a tangle on the ground with his friend, and if I was in a tangle on the ground, I could potentially keep the other man from drawing any weapons if he had them.

After my assault, once I was in school in Philly, I’d taken some self-defense classes. I’d learned one of the best weapons a woman has against a man who outclasses her weight-and-muscle-wise is the element of surprise. Gonzo’s friend wasn’t particularly big, but when I buried my shoulder in his gut, a wall of muscle stopped me. He was strong. But I’d surprised him.

He staggered back. His arms came up and reached for me.

Hand glued around the .45, finger off the trigger, I locked my arms around his waist.

A flurry of curses erupted into the night.

“Just throw her down.”

Hands grabbed at my coat. Gonzo’s friend was trying to pry me off himself.

I squeezed with all my strength.

“She’s like a fucking spider monkey. I can’t get her off.”

“Shit, I hear sirens. Bring her. We can’t leave her. She knows too much.”

Nope. Wasn’t going with these men.

I heard the sirens too, and I was determined to get to Cole’s side tonight. Which meant the cops needed to arrest these jerks.

The man I was latched onto tried waddling backwards around the beast to get to the sedan.

I wrapped one of my legs around one of his.

He lost his footing and stumbled. “Get off me, bitch!”

The sirens were getting louder.

Wild-eyed, Gonzo made a break for the sedan.

“Don’t you fucking dare!” his friend said. “You leave me here like this, I’ll tell them how you fucking mowed down a statie and pulled a gun on his woman.” He was still trying to make it to the car. “Jesus, get this gun away from her. She’s going to shoot me in the ass.”

Gonzo came closer.

I kicked out, and he grabbed my leg. Not good.

“Come on, Mandy. Get in the car! Don’t make me hurt you!” Hands like a vise, he twisted.

Something in my knee popped. Pain shot up my leg.

I let go of his friend and fell facedown to the ground. Rolling to my back, I got the .45 up even though my arms were shaking with fear.

Gonzo was coming at me, pistol in one hand. He brought it up to aim it at me.

I fired. The recoil sent the hammer flying toward my face. Everything went white. I flashed back to when I’d hit that can Dad had thrown in the air and dented my forehead with his 9mm.

Surrounded by sunshine, Dad’s handsome, bearded face broke into a smile.
“Atta girl. You done good, honey.”

* * * *

The next thing I knew, I was blinking into a bright light.

“Mandy? Mandy, you with us?”

The light moved away, and I squinted at the face that came into focus above me. “Jeremy Folsom?” We’d shared a table in Home Ec. and made a quilt and several batches of burned cookies together. “What are you doing here?”

“She’s back,” he called out. Then he gave me a lopsided smile. “I’m a paramedic. Looks like you knocked yourself out while firing your weapon.”

I noticed his dark blue paramedics uniform. The ground was cold and hard under me. I tried to sit up.

Jeremy kept me on my back with a hand on my shoulder. “No. Just relax.”

“Take it easy, Ms. Holcomb. You’re going to have quite the shiner tomorrow.” Chief Glenmore’s gravelly voice was a welcome sound.

I blinked him into focus. Pain rolled over me in a nauseating wave. My knee ached. My cheek throbbed. My ears were ringing. “Cole?” My voice sounded far away.

“He’s at Exeter. Don’t know his status yet. Looks like you’re going to be joining him. Let’s get you loaded up, and you can tell me what happened once the little birdies stop circling.”

“Gonzo?”

“You hit him,” he said grimly.

I swallowed hard. “Dead?”

“Not yet. On his way to Exeter. Don’t worry about him. Billy Frackas, guy with Gonzo, told us everything. Nine-one-one operator was still on your cell line. She’s talking to Bennets now. So far she’s corroborated his story. Gonzo was trying to get you in the car. You fought to keep that from happening. She got it all on tape. You’re in the clear.”