Fourth of July (17 page)

“Okay.” Luke reached over to help her from her chair. “That’s all we need. You did great.” He opened the door for her. “Let me walk you out.”

“Thank you,” was all Alexis could manage. Her hands wouldn’t hold still. She didn’t question why Officer Johnson held her hand. She appreciated his warm grip stabilizing her shaking frame.

They walked from the room and headed toward the front door, but not before Alexis’ attacker glimpsed her in the hallway as he was being escorted from the viewing room to his prison cell.

“I can see you,” he yelled at her. “Don’t think I’ll forget your face or that red hair. I’ll find you.”

“Get him out of here.” Luke waved angrily at the other officer.

The policeman dragged him away as the man continued flinging threats and degrading comments at Alexis.

“I’m sorry.” Luke turned to Alexis. “We won’t let him bother you again.”

The threats were more than Alexis’ already fragile psyche could handle. She crumbled. Luke wrapped a strong arm around her shoulder, drawing her into his side. The comforting arm was exactly what Alexis needed. Turning into his embrace, she allowed him to hold her close.

“I’ve got you now. You’ll be all right.” Luke’s soothing voice filled Alexis’s head. “Don’t worry, he can’t hurt you anymore.”

“How do you know?” Alexis pulled away. “When he gets out of jail, he could easily find me.”

“Here’s what we’ll do.” Luke studied her as he spoke. “I’ll make sure the prosecuting attorney knows he threatened you again, which will make the case that much stronger. When he’s released from prison, we will inform you immediately. He will also have a restraining order placed on him. If he dares come near you, he’ll be thrown right back into prison.” His brief smile was warm. “Does that make you feel any better?”

“A little.” Alexis rubbed at her bare arms. The only thing that would make her feel better was knowing she would never encounter that awful man again.

Luke walked her outside. The bright sun seemed to mock her unsettled emotions. Its warmth couldn’t chase the fear away.

“Thank you, Officer Johnson.” She flashed him a wobbly smile. “You’ve been wonderful.”

“Please, call me Luke. It was my pleasure to help you.” He grinned at her.

Alexis grew embarrassed. “I’m sorry for, clinging to you.” She cringed from her verb choice and lack of composure.

“No, don’t apologize. Once again it was my pleasure.” Luke paused for a moment. “Alexis, would it be all right if I called you sometime, maybe took you to dinner or a movie?”

“Um, well...” Alexis was taken off guard. It hadn’t escaped her attention that he was attractive. His ash blond hair, bright blue eyes, and nice build were traits any woman would take note of. She had been too preoccupied with her fears to focus on his attractiveness before. But acknowledging his good looks or the kindness he had just shown her didn’t diminish the truth. She was only interested in Chris.

“I’m sorry, Officer Johnson.”

“Luke,” he interrupted with a charming smile.

“Luke,” she repeated. “I am sorry, but I’m actually involved with someone right now.”

Liar. Just because you have one date scheduled with Chris does not mean you are dating him exclusively.

Alexis could read the disappointment etched into Officer Johnson’s manly features. “That’s all right.” He shook her hand. “If it doesn’t work out with the other guy, you know where to find me.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief.

Alexis walked away, knowing Luke watched her movements. The thought wasn’t unpleasant, but she didn’t have room for anyone other than Chris in her thoughts right now.

Dylan and Chris arrived at the New York precinct late Wednesday afternoon. As they hurried through the building, they argued about whose turn it was to interrogate.

“We’ve got no time,” Chris argued. “You know I’ll get results faster.”

Dylan cracked a smile. “Maybe, but we always get in trouble when you get quick results. Let me start, then you can take over.”

Chris groaned. Dylan could spend hours buttering up a suspect and never get an ounce of information out of them. Chris had never hurt anyone, just offered a few threats or banged chairs around. He and Dylan had rarely been reprimanded.

“It’s great they called us in, so much better than studying paperwork.”

Chris held up his hand, silencing Dylan.

“What?” Dylan asked.

“224?”

“Yeah.”

Chris reached for the door handle as it burst open. A young man exited the room, bowing his head and bumping between them. “Excuse me.”

“Whoa, hold up.” Chris grabbed onto the man’s arm.

“Chris!” Dylan swung the door wide.

Chris moved to his partner’s side, dragging the man with him. He caught a glimpse of what he assumed was their former suspect. A tiny hole pierced his forehead as he slumped in the chair. Blood trickled from the wound.

Chris spun the man he was holding around, pinning his arms behind his back.

“It wasn’t me,” the man protested.

“We’ll see.” Dylan reached into the man’s suit pocket, producing a Gloucester.22 complete with silencer.

The young man didn’t have the stereotypical appearance of a terrorist. He was Caucasian, a couple of inches shorter than Chris, dressed in a casual suit and tie. Dylan pulled a NYPD badge out of the other pocket. He looked like any other plainclothes detective.

Several policemen heard the commotion and arrived to assist Dylan and Chris. One officer handcuffed the suspect while another read him his rights. Dylan hurried to the victim’s side, searching for a pulse. He looked up at Chris and shook his head.

“He’s gone,” Dylan paused, thinking. “I guess we’ll have to interrogate him.” He jerked his thumb in the direction of the handcuffed man.

“That’ll work,” Chris said. “If he is who we think, maybe he’ll have more information anyway.”

They moved out of the way of the police and into the adjoining interrogation room. Chris felt bile rise up in his throat. A second victim. Dylan knelt next to the slain police officer. He lifted the man’s wrist. Chris watched silently.

Once again, Dylan shook his head. Chris nodded, he should have known by the amount of blood on the floor the man couldn’t have survived.

“The officer in charge of the suspect?” Dylan asked.

“I guess we know why the suspect was unprotected,” Chris muttered. “Why didn’t he just knock him out?”

Chris strode from the room. Dylan followed. Chris reached the closest officer, placing a heavy hand on the man’s shoulder. The man turned, glancing curiously at Chris.

“Officer down.” Chris gestured toward the nearby room.

Chris and Dylan moved out of the way, their hearts heavy, fully relating to the screams of outrage that filled the precinct. They both knew how it felt to lose a friend and fellow officer.

“Let’s go outside,” Dylan said.

The policemen didn’t need Dylan or Chris standing around. Respectfully they walked away, leaving the officers with their grief. They spent some time halfheartedly searching for a gift for little Madison. After attempting to swallow a few bites of lunch past the lumps in their throats, they went to face the young suspect.

Over eight tense hours of interrogation passed and the man had yet to utter one syllable. Dylan and Chris finally decided they needed to stop. They had pushed enough for one day. They went to their hotel room and attempted to rest. After six hours of stealing glances at the alarm clock, they gave up any hope of a good night’s sleep.

It didn’t make any sense, Why was that man hovering over a parade float? What was he doing? He held an awkward package in his hands. Why was he mounting it underneath the float? Alexis must question him. What if he was planting a bomb to kill more innocent people? That’s crazy. The Fourth of July is over, and there aren’t any more parades scheduled for a while.

Alexis could see the man’s outline as she approached him. He looked familiar. She was almost upon him. He turned around. Alexis’s heart constricted with fear. Her attacker. It couldn’t be. He was in prison.

“Don’t move, Beautiful,” he directed her. “As soon as I’m done here, I’ll be right with you.” His cackling laughter reached out to smother her.

Alexis tried to flee but her legs were like solid blocks of concrete. The horrible man moved toward her, his evil intentions evident on his smooth face.

“I’m ready for you, Beautiful. There’s no one around to help you now.”

“Help, help, someone help me,” Alexis tried to scream, but the words were barely vocalized. She couldn’t even hear herself. How would someone know to come and help her? “Help,” she tried again, but to no avail.

Thump. Alexis attained a semblance of consciousness, falling heavily onto her bedroom floor. She kicked and screamed.

“Help!”

Unable to untangle herself from the sheets clinging to her flailing extremities, she cried out even louder.

Suddenly, the truth struck her. She stopped moving. A dream. It was just a dream.

“Oh, thank heavens,” Alexis said aloud, her voice bringing some comfort to the darkness.

“It was only a dream,” she kept repeating to herself, trying to reassure her disturbed mind. It had been so realistic, that awful man, the fear, him planting a bomb on a parade float.

Alexis closed her eyes tight, her heart thumping. She prayed for the images to leave. The prayer helped, but she needed more. She unraveled her body from the sheets and blankets. Rising from the ground, she didn’t check the time as she reached for the phone beside her bed and pushed the most-called number. It rang twice.

“What?” A gruff voice radiated across states and time zones.

“Oh, Steven, I’m sorry if I woke you. Is Brittany there?”

Alexis cringed. There was no “if” about it. She knew she’d awoken him. What time was it? Five a.m. in D.C. meant three in the morning in Idaho. Oops.

“Of course she’s here. Where else would she be in the middle of the night? Brittany,” he called. “Britt! It’s your sister.”

Brittany’s soft voice came on the line. “Lexie? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a horrible dream and needed to talk to someone. You’re the only person who would understand.”

“Take a couple deep breaths,” Brittany said.

Alexis inhaled and exhaled.

“Did you say a prayer?” Her sister asked.

“Yes, but I’m still terrified.”

“Okay, I’m here. Tell me what happened.”

Brittany knew all about Alexis’s chronic nightmares. She had comforted Alexis since they were small children. Alexis never confided her nightmares to anyone else. Who would trust a psychiatrist who couldn’t control her own mind?

“Maybe I should call back in a few hours.” Alexis curled into a ball on her bed as she grasped the phone. “I didn’t even look at the time.”

“It’s all right,” Brittany reassured her. “I was already up with Savannah. It seems your niece is prone to the same sort of problems that have bothered you your entire life.”

“She’s already having nightmares?” Alexis felt awful. She’d read a few theories about nightmares being hereditary but nothing had been proven yet.

“Yeah, at eighteen months. I hate seeing her so scared. It reminds me of all those nights I spent holding you when we were little. I wonder if Savannah’s nightmares aren’t a result of hearing her parents fighting whenever we are unfortunate enough to have Steven around.”

“I take it you aren’t in the same room as him anymore?”

“We don’t even sleep in the same room anymore,” Brittany said, her voice devoid of emotion. “Thank heavens.”

Alexis cringed. It broke her heart to hear about her sister’s troubled marriage. She knew she was the only one Brittany could confide in. Their parents had plenty of their own stress and their brothers had bought into Steven’s lies from the very start.

“I’m sorry. This isn’t talk about Brittany time.”

Alexis opened her mouth to protest. “I always want to hear about you.”

“I know, but it gets old even to me, especially to me. Tell me about the dream.”

Brittany listened as Alexis retold the vivid nightmare. Sharing her dreams with Brittany usually lessened her fear and made her dream seem silly. Not this morning. She couldn’t stop the realistic images of her attacker’s leering face from playing through her mind.