L.A.P.D. Special Investigations Series, Boxed Set: The Deceived, The Taken & The Silent (39 page)

“Can you ask your mother?”

She scoffed again. “My mother is a Stepford wife. She’s a robot who does everything my father wants her to do. She won’t talk about it because he doesn’t want her to talk about it.”

“I’m sure if you tell them what you discovered tonight, they’ll be honest with you.” He waited a second, then added, “I’ll go with you if you want.”

She clasped her hands, weaving her fingers together, then looked at him with wide sad eyes. “They’re on vacation. Probably in flight right now on their way to Paris.”

“They have a contact number, don’t they?”

“Yes. And they always stay at the same hotel. But it won’t do any good to call them,” she reiterated.

They sat in silence. He felt as if his hands were tied, and she felt…well, he didn’t know what she was feeling. Hurt. Betrayal. Frustration. Uncertainty. He placed his hand over hers. “Why don’t you get some sleep. Things might be clearer in the morning.”

The resignation in her eyes made him want to punch whoever was responsible.

“I don’t think so, but there’s nothing else to do.” She pushed her cup away. After a moment, her face lit up. “Yes, there is.”

“Is what?”

“Something we can do. There’s my father’s computer. You heard him say he keeps everything on his computer.”

“Like what?”

“Like everything.”

“I’m sure whatever he has on file is password protected.”

“But you’re an expert. You could hack into it, couldn’t you?”

He tensed. “I could, but that would be the same as breaking and entering.”

“Not if you’re with me. Not if I want you to do it.”

If she had a key to her parents’ home and took him inside, that wasn’t a problem. But hacking into someone’s computer…that was a violation of personal rights. “If your father is adamant about not revealing what happened twelve years ago, what makes you think he’d have anything at all on his computer?”

She nipped at her bottom lip. “He made the burial arrangements. He bought the vault. Even if he tried to clear the information, he has to have some record of that. I have to believe there’s something there that will tell me what I need to know.”

He shifted, more uncomfortable by the second. “It’s really late. We’re not going to get any answers tonight. I should go.”

This time she reached out and took his hand, sending an electric jolt up his arm and directly to his dick.

“Stay with me.”

Oh, yeah. Great idea, especially with his hormones raging. Just talking with her, touching her hand, made him want to do her right there on the couch.
Animal
. Here he was thinking of himself…of sex…of getting as deep inside of her as he could…when he should be comforting and protecting her. Hell, if he stayed, who would protect her from him?

Removing himself from temptation was the only solution.

“I have an extra bedroom.”

The need he saw in her eyes made him feel like a jerk. She was going through hell and all he could think about was sex. You’re an ass, Rico. Plain and simple. And he had to leave.

“I’m sorry. There’s something I have to do. But I’m only a phone call away.” She would know he was lying. What did he have to do at midnight? “In the morning I’ll talk with the people at Haven’s Gate, again.”

“Again?” Her eyes widened.

“Uh-huh. I…went over after you told me about Danielle. I spoke with the physician and asked about their procedure for filing records.”

“And?”

“And nothing. He said all he did was sign the papers. I told him your son’s death certificate had never been filed and I wanted to see the log. He gave me some runaround — that I’d have to talk to the director and she was on vacation. So, I told him to have her contact me.”

“Has she?”

“No. I don’t expect her to, either.”

“Why not?”

Because Rico didn’t believe the papers had ever been filed. Because he didn’t believe her child had been stillborn, and he couldn’t tell her anything unless he had proof. “They don’t seem too accommodating. It probably has something to do with my previous investigation. I put a lot of pressure on them.” And nearly got thrown off the case.

Macy wasn’t sure she understood, and two hours after Rico had gone, she was still trying to fall asleep. Oh, she knew what he’d said, but there was more. The subtext was almost palpable. What wasn’t he telling her? What was he leaving out?

She finally got up and went to the bathroom. As she finished, she heard Hercules growling low in his throat.

“What’s the matter with you, puppy dog?” she soothed him as she crossed to the bed and lifted him into her arms. Usually when she picked him up, he calmed down, but this time she felt the low growl vibrating like a motor revving in his chest.

She heard a rustling from somewhere down the hall. What on earth… She set Hercules down and he zipped past her on a tear toward the living room, barking and yapping as if he were a dog five times his size. She was about to call him back, but heard his non-stop bark, a totally different sound…the way he sounded when he was protecting her. And he kept on—barking and barking. Then she heard a yelp and suddenly it was quiet.

She started out the door. Another yip sent her heart to her throat. She froze. Someone was inside the condo. Every instinct had her rushing to save Herc, but she needed a weapon.

Glancing around, she couldn’t imagine how someone could get in. Her building had security codes and guards downstairs. He thoughts circled. What to do? Hide? Turn on all the lights? Call 9-1-1. Her pulse pounded so hard she thought she’d stroke out.

She flew back into the bedroom, locked the door, picked up the phone and punched in the number, giving her name and address first. “Someone’s broken into my condo. Send the police!”

The dispatcher asked her to keep calm and not to hang up. “Did you see this person?”

“No. I locked myself in the bedroom, but my dog is out there.”

“Can you hear him now?”

“No, it’s quiet. But I didn’t hear anyone leave.”

“Do you know for sure someone’s there?”

“I heard someone,” she spat out. “I think he hurt my dog.”

“The police are on their way, miss, just breathe deeply and…

She heard footsteps outside the bedroom. Panic seized in her chest. Oh, God! “He’s in the hallway. The doorknob’s moving! He’s trying to open the door!” She dropped the phone and scrambled into the walk-in closet, feeling around in the dark for any kind of weapon. Her fingers touched the bat she’d bought for Cody.

A loud crash sounded against the bedroom door and then another. She left the sliding mirrored doors open just a hair so she could peer through the slit. It was too dark. She couldn’t see anything. Another crash and the door banged open. Her fingers tightened, gripping the bat like a vise. She could see now—enough to know a man stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the nightlight in the hall. He had something covering his head. A mask.

And a gun in his hand.

She froze…immobilized by fear. Was he there to rob her? Or hurt her? He had to have known the security code.

She watched him look around, her fingers gripping harder and harder, her legs tensed, ready to hit and run. He stepped farther into the room. Maybe he’d realize no one was there and he’d leave. Maybe…

Sirens pierced the air. The man lifted his head, then cursed, stomped to the bed and ripped back the blankets. He turned, scanned the room. “Where are you, bitch!”

She flattened against the wall inside the closet next to the door, her heart pummeling her chest so hard she thought her ribs would break. Sweat beaded her skin. She held her breath.

He was so close she could hear him panting.

Just then the sliding door slammed to the side and the man stepped forward. She swung out with all the power she could muster. Bones crunched, and the bat broke in half, one side flying across the room. She raised it again and jammed the ragged end into his chest and he screamed, a horrible, guttural sound, but she just kept stabbing until he stumbled backward then fell.

Fighting her panic, she darted around him. With the nightlight as her one source of light, she scrambled out of the room and down the hall — her only thought to find Herc and get out of there before the man recovered.

Reaching the front door, she fumbled with the dead bolt, at the same time calling Hercules. “C’mon doggie,” she whispered, her throat raspy. “Where are you?” God, she hoped he wasn’t hurt. Something soft rubbed at her ankle. She reached down. “Oh, thank heaven you’re all right.” With Hercules in her arms, she fled out the door, afraid to look back because he, the burglar, the rapist, the murderer, whoever he was, might be right behind her.

In the hallway, she bypassed the elevator because who knew when it would reach her. But just as she reached the door to the stairwell, the elevator doors opened and three police officers barreled out. Guns drawn.

Thank God. “He’s in the bedroom. I hit him,” she said, panting, unable to catch her breath. “With a bat.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

RICO HEARD THE SCRATCHY dispatch and wheeled his car around, speeding back to Macy’s like a man on fire. Shit. He wouldn’t have even heard the call if he’d gone directly home instead of stopping for a hamburger.

All he’d heard was the code — burglary in progress. He recognized the address and the condo number immediately, and dammit, she was fine when he left her. Well, as fine as she could be, considering.

Fuck! He banged his palm on the steering wheel. He should’ve stayed. Been there for her. God knew he’d wanted to.

But how could someone break into her place? With all that security in her building, how the hell had that happened? Maneuvering around the vehicles in his way, he gripped the steering wheel so hard, his knuckles went white.

At her condo, he bolted from his car almost before he’d shut off the engine, and on his way inside, he flashed his badge to one of the blues at the door. Rico recognized the cop from the academy. “Hey, Melvin. What’s going on? I heard the dispatch.”

“Some guy broke into a woman’s apartment and she tagged the guy. Hard.”

“Macy Capshaw?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Is she okay? She’s a friend.”

“Yep, but the guy isn’t in very good shape.”

Just then the EMTs pulled up, sirens blaring. “What’s the MO?”

“Looks like a burglary,” Melvin said. “Lots of money here. But the vic caught the guy and nailed him with a bat.”

The elevator was on it’s way down, so Rico waited, but when the doors opened, the emergency team coming in shoved him aside and filled the space with their gurney, outfitted with life support paraphernalia.

He hit the button again and waited for the second elevator that seemed to take forever. When he reached the top, the EMTs were getting back on the other side with a large man on the rack. Rico tried to get a look, but the suspect’s face was too bloody. The emergency technicians were slinging medical terminology and someone shoved Rico aside. Within seconds, they were gone and the sirens faded into the night.

When Rico reached Macy’s, the door was still open and she was sitting on the couch with the dog in her lap. Two officers were questioning her.

His heart wrenched when she looked up at him, terror in her eyes. Her face was pale as chalk. He flashed his badge to the officers. “Friend,” he said, and the blues looked at Macy for verification.

“He’s a friend,” Macy said.

Rico saw she was trembling so he sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.

“You okay?” A stupid question. “I mean are you hurt in any way?”

She shook her head. “But if the police hadn’t come when they did…” Her voice cracked.

“Do you have any reason to believe it was anything other than a burglary?” one of the officers asked.

Macy looked at the man, her eyes dark. “He smashed down the bedroom door. I heard him say, ‘Where are you, bitch!’ and he was searching for me when I hit him.” She took a shaky breath. “So, yes, I think he had something else in mind.”

“Do you know anyone who’d want to hurt you?”

“Can’t this wait?” Rico asked. “I mean you’ve got the guy and from what I understand, he’s not going anywhere.”

The officers eyed each other. One shrugged. The other said, “I guess so. I think we have enough information for now.” He looked at Macy. “I’m sorry, miss. But we’ll need to talk to you tomorrow, and we’ll need a list of anyone you can think of who might want to harm you.”

She nodded.

“You’d better get your locks replaced, too.”

After they left, Macy went limp in Rico’s arms, a small sob shaking her shoulders. He held her even closer.

“I should have stayed,” he said, his chest tightening with anger. Anger at himself for leaving and anger at the son-of-a-bitch who’d done this to her. “If I had…”

Sniffling, Macy pulled back. “It’s okay. I think I handled things just fine.”

She’d just had her life threatened and still, she had to assure him she could handle herself. “I meant that if I had stayed, if someone else was here, maybe the guy wouldn’t have even come inside.”

She stood, wiping the palms of her hands on her shirt. “They said he was critical. Th-that he might not make it.”

“Well, don’t expect me to feel sorry for the guy.”

She rattled on as if she hadn’t heard him, “What if he dies and all he wanted was money? I didn’t need to hit him so hard, but I thought he wanted to hurt me, and I heard Herc yelp in pain and then he…the man broke down the bedroom door…I just…” She wavered on her feet. “And there’s so much blood…” Her bottom lip quivering, she waved a hand toward the bedroom

Rico launched upward and caught her in his arms. “It’s okay. You did the right thing.” Helping her down on the couch again, he picked up a glass of water someone had put on the table and had her take a sip.

“You’re going to be fine.” He sat next to her, took her hand. “You did the right thing. You protected yourself. God knows what that guy wanted.”

“I couldn’t sleep and…”

“Shh. There’s plenty of time to talk later. I think you better grab some things and stay somewhere else tonight.”

“Oh.” She shook her head and motioned toward her office. “I can’t do that. Everything I have is here. All my work.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” With the guy in the hospital, it wasn’t likely she had to worry, but he didn’t see how she could sleep here. Especially if there was blood all over the floor in the bedroom.

“I’ll call someone in the morning to fix the door and clean up the mess,” she said.

“And get new locks.”

“That, too.”

But for all she’d said, her bravado wasn’t convincing. Her eyes said she was scared to death. “Where’s your booze?”

In her skimpy pajamas, with her ponytail hanging at half-mast and dark smudges under her eyes, she didn’t look anything like the Macy Capshaw he’d met in her law office a few weeks ago. And every protective instinct he possessed filled him with a rage so raw, he wasn’t sure what he’d do to the guy if he ever got hold of him.

She pointed toward a wood credenza with glass shelves and mirrors to reflect the expensive crystal. “Over there. Inside the doors to the side.”

He found a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and poured them each a glass.

“I think I’m going to need a double,” she said.

“That’s cool. You can have as many as you want. No one’s going to give you a DUI on your way to bed.”

A wan smile tipped her lips. “But I’ll need a designated walker to get me there.”

It was obvious she was trying to lighten the conversation, probably for herself as much as him. But she didn’t fool him one bit. “That would be me. I’m staying here tonight and will gladly do the honors.”

“Only I never get drunk.”

Yeah. He could’ve figured on that. She wouldn’t want to be out of control. Not for a second. “Well, there’s a first time for everything. But I don’t think this is it.” He brought both drinks to the couch.

“Are you really going to stay?” she asked.

“Whether you like it or not.”

“The man is in the hospital.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Well, then, after this drink, I’m going to bed. I have some early appointments in the morning.”

“I know it’s not my place to tell you what to do, but I’d suggest you take the day off.”

She gulped down the whiskey as if it were water. “Thanks for the suggestion.”

But she wasn’t going to take it.

She set her glass down and headed for the hallway, which he assumed led to the bedroom. After a few steps, she turned. “The spare bedrooms are this way.” She pointed down the hall. “You can sleep in one and I’ll take the other. I don’t want to go into my own bedroom quite yet.”

She started to go, but stopped again. “Thank you, Rico. I don’t think I could sleep at all if you weren’t here.”

And he didn’t think he could sleep with her in the next room.

***

MACY AWAKENED IN a sweat, sheets damp and corded around her. Rolling over, she saw it was three in the morning. She’d barely slept at all. Then in a flash, it all came back to her. The man. The bashed-in door. His cryptic words. A body on the floor. The blood.

Her chest squeezed. Oh, God. It wasn’t a dream. Throwing off the covers, she waited a moment to get her bearings, then rose, went to the door and eased it open. Hercules followed on her heels, so she picked him up. Across the hall her bedroom door hung crookedly off its hinges, smashed and splintered. But the man was in the hospital. Rico was in the next room. She was safe.

She took a few tentative steps and peered inside her bedroom. Everything but the door looked the same. She inched her way across the room toward the night table, then taking a deep breath, flipped on the light. Blood pooled on the floor by the closet. She gasped. Then remembered the man had her security code. He knew how to get in.

He had been there to hurt her.

And she didn’t have a clue why.

She tore out of the room squeezing Hercules so tightly, he yelped. She stopped in the hall when she saw Rico’s door was ajar and she could see moonlight coming in the clerestory windows above the blinds. Pulse thrumming, she peeked inside.

Rico catapulted upright, gun in hand and aimed directly at her. Her heart stopped. She reached for the door frame for support. “It’s just me!” She could see him clearly now and hoped he saw her.

“Oh, geez. I’m sorry,” he said, and quickly laid the gun on the table next to the bed.

Her chest heaved. “I … I never thought about you having a gun.”

“I should’ve mentioned it. I’m really sorry I scared you.”

Finally able to breathe, she answered, “My fault. Detectives are known to carry weapons. I’d just never thought about it, so it…surprised me.” That was better than saying she was just plain terrified. That she didn’t want to be alone. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I can understand why. Come here.” He patted the side of the bed.

It dawned on her then that she was wearing her skimpy nightclothes, but she didn’t care and walked over to the bed.

As if he understood her dilemma, Rico said, “Why don’t we share the bed for what’s left of the night. We’ll think of an alternative tomorrow.”

She put Hercules at the foot of the bed, but as she started to slide under the covers, Rico stopped her. “Uh, warning here. I’m naked.”

She barely hesitated. “I’ve slept with naked men before.” Then she slipped under the covers and tucked the sheet between them. Although she wasn’t touching him, and didn’t plan to, it felt good to share a bed with someone.

No, not just someone. With Rico. “An alternative to what?” she asked.

Rico propped himself on an elbow to look at her. “An alternative to your staying here by yourself. That guy wasn’t here for a little chat. I want to be sure you’re safe.”

His words were disturbing and yet at the same time, comforting. But did he want to make sure she was safe because he was a cop or because he was concerned about her? She wanted to think the latter.

“I’m sure it’s okay now that he’s in custody.”

“Did you recognize him?”

“No. I told that to the police.”

“Well, then, you don’t know if he was out to hurt you or if he was sent by someone else.”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her. She lay there staring at the ceiling. “No,” she whispered. “No, I don’t.”

A second later, she added, “But I don’t know why anyone would be that calculating. I’m not a witness in some high-profile case or anything.”

“I’ll find out more tomorrow. Hopefully the officers will have run the perp’s prints through the system. In the meantime, I think you should find someplace else to stay.”

He was right, of course. But her choices were limited. “I could go to a hotel.”

“That would be less safe than staying right here. Here you have some security downstairs.”

“But obviously not enough.”

“What about friends? Your parents?”

Friends. Amalia, her best friend since grade school, was gone. The rest of her friends had married and had families. They’d either moved away or drifted away because they had nothing in common anymore. She didn’t have a husband and children to talk about over long lunches, and besides, work took up most of her own time. “Nope. No friends close enough to stay with. My parents are out of town and I wouldn’t go there anyway.”

“Okay.” He looked thoughtful. “Why don’t you stay with me until we get this resolved?”

“With you?” She couldn’t imagine. And yet she could.

“Yeah. I have room. And I’d be there most of the time.”

“Oh. I don’t think—”

“What?”

“I don’t think that would look good.”

“Anyone I care about would understand and I don’t give a rat’s ass about anyone else. They can think whatever they want.”