Intimate Danger (Empire Blue) (22 page)

Like an anchor dropping in the ocean, her hope fell as the caller display revealed a number she didn’t recognize.

She flipped it open. “Lopez here.”

“Detective.” Dark sensuality oozed over the line, and she fought a shudder.

“What’s up?”

“We’ve got another victim, I’m afraid,” Echols relayed. “I just got the call and was going to head out, but Agent Rossi seemed to have taken the cruiser for the night. It’s just outside of Nyack, but I’ve arranged for us to get into the crime scene to check things out. If we can make the connection to our guy, then we’ll take over the investigation.”

With the mention of Trent’s name and yet another victim, her heart sunk lower than she’d thought possible. That heavy feeling, like concrete sitting on her chest, returned. “I’ll come get you
at the hotel.”

“I’m
not staying at the hotel, Lopez. Didn’t you know?”

She frowned, and a suspicion tickled at the back of her neck
.

“I didn’t,” she said slowly. “
Give me your address.”

He rattled it off, and she snapped her phone shut, and then
glowered. She lost focus and scowled at yet another crime occurring, and Trent being nowhere in sight.

“Who was it?”

“Special Agent in Charge Echols. He said there’s another victim, one right outside Nyack, but he needs a ride.” She stood, grabbed her brown leather jacket from the back of her chair.

“Where?”

She paused, then shrugged into her jacket. “I didn’t catch that, but once I pick him up, I’ll let you know.

He cursed and reached for her arm. “Look Charlie, maybe you should let me take this one.”

She turned to face him and gave him a gentle smile. “I love you, I really do, Uncle Woo. But I’ll be fine. I need to work out a few things in my head. None of those things will affect tonight and my work on this scene. If this guy has left anything behind, maybe this will be our chance to catch him. We’ll talk as soon as I know more.”

Woolsey looked like he wanted to argue, but apparently seeing
her resolve, let it go.

“I’m here if you need me, Charlie. And not just as your boss. I hope you know that.”

She smiled, and impulsively tossed her arms around him. Her face turned into his shoulder, and the scent of butterscotch brought memories gushing in a rush. He was home to her, a comfort that reminded of sweet memories, happy ones. “I’ll be fine, and I know.”

He gave her a quick, hard hug back, then released
her. She stepped away and heard him call gruffly, “Be careful. You’re all I have left, too, Charlie.”

With a last wave, she stepped out of the building.

Chapter Sixteen

“I’m sorry, Mr. Rossi, but I’m going to have to insist you move her to a more secure location. It’s for her safety more than anything else.”

Trent sighed
, turned from the bed, and glanced up at the plump assisted living agent standing in the hospital doorway. Susan Delaney had been working with him for the past year, ever since the day he’d found his mother bloodied, bruised and laying in a heap on the floor—all at the hand of his step-father.

“I understand, Susan. And I think I’m beginning to get an idea of why. If you have any suggestions, I’d love to hear them.”

She smiled, and her face transformed from harsh lines into a classic beauty, one that spoke of what she must have looked like in her youth. Brown hair was highlighted with gray and sat in an impeccable bun, not a strand out of place. Her face was devoid of make-up and the only jewelry adorning her tall, thin frame was a single gold band on her left ring finger. “Of course.” Her focus moved to the woman next to him, and her expression softened. He’d seen a stronger version of that look on Charlie’s face hours before. “We all care for her. We’ll do whatever we can to help.”

He nodded,
his throat too tight to speak, and turned back to the hospital bed. His hand, already holding a frail one, tightened slightly. He had to ignore the purple bruises on her hand from repeated IV attempts, the thin skin showing blue veins beneath, and lifted it to his lips. As he brushed his mouth over his mother’s hand, he closed his eyes and whispered, voice raw with emotion, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him.

“Mom, wake up. Please.”

No movement, not even a sound. He dropped his head between his shoulders and welcomed the surge of despair working through his chest. Once again, when he was supposed to have been looking after his mother he let his job get in the way, let it override his responsibilities, and left her on her own.

He had seen the signs, listened to what the doctor told him
, and still decided to ignore it all. He did not want to admit that she couldn’t live alone any longer—or even continue to stay in the assisted living facility.

One year ago, after suspecting something
to be wrong from her tone through the phone, he had made an impromptu visit to her house. She’d been coming out in public less and less and when he managed to finagle some time with her, she had gone to extreme lengths to cover her arms. It wouldn’t have been something he’d normally catch onto, except for the fact she’d been wearing those shirts in the hot, humid, summer air heat.

She’d brushed off his concerns claiming falls, old bones, and weak nutrients in her body. Age had been what she said.

Trent shook his head, brought her hand up to cradle to the side of his neck and tucked his face into the crook of her arm. Baby powder and lilacs, the combination bringing a rush of memories from his childhood.

His stepfather was now behind bars, a task he had seen to once he made sure his mother was cared for. The old fool would die there. But she hadn’t been okay, had she?
She lost her ability to speak English and reverted to her native language until he was forced to get a caretaker assigned to her who spoke Italian.

He’d show up at her room, and in states of lowered lucidity, she’d call him by his father’s name
, God rest his soul, and refuse to believe him her son.

Severe dementia had been the diagnosis, and it was growing to the point where she now wandered aimlessly, got lost in the big city of New York, and ended up in neighborhoods she had no business going to. The latest outing resulted in her being hit by a local taxi when she stepped off the curb
and into traffic.

His eyes burned and he pressed his body tighter to the bed,
ignoring the awkward level of the chair and mattress. All he wanted was to simply crawl up and lay in her arms, like he had as a child.

She’d always set his needs above her own and protected him from the hand of his stepfather. He had been a mere child. His mother did everything for him and in return, he’d given her nothing but neglected attention. Too selfish with his own time, he never saw the abuse until it was too late.

He lifted his head, wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve and gave a hearty sniff.

“Never again, Mom. I won’t leave you. We’ll get you set up some place where you’ll be happy. Where you will be safe. Even if I have to keep you with me in the meantime.”

He stared at her, willed her to wake up. She looked so tiny, so frail lying in the big hospital bed. Despite her petite size, she’d managed to coral him as an energetic child and put him in his place more than once as a teenager.

Soft black lashes lay against her pale skin, blue veins showing beneath the surface speaking of the frail status she sat in. He leaned up and brushed back her graying hair, pushed it out of her face and behind her ear.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, wanting to give his entire attention to his mother. The kind she deserved and nothing less.

The buzzing stopped just as a tall doctor walked in. Trent stood, his hand never leaving from the clasp of his mother’s.

“Doctor.”

The older gentleman, Doctor John Moran, wrapped big palms around a silver chart and
held it against his body. He glanced at Trent’s mother and then back to him, his mouth a grim, thin line.

“
Her dementia has advanced, Trent. We’re classifying her at stage five.”

He frowned, startled when he shouldn’t be, and sucked in a breath. Staring at the aging man, he wanted to swear. To kick and scream like a child. He knew what the doc relayed, but wanted to deny it with everything he was. This was it, wasn’t it? He’d run out of time. He needed more, had to show her how sorry he was.

Doctor Moran took a step toward Trent, and when he blinked, he found the man standing at his side, clasping his shoulder.

“We’re going to do everything we can to make her more comfortable. She needs to be moved to a different care facility, though. I’m sorry.”

He shook his head, didn’t realize he was crying until the doctor shoved a tissue in his direction. He took it and wiped at his eyes. Cleared his throat and spoke.

“She’ll stay with me.”

The doctor shook his head. “I don’t think so. You need to manage your life, too. She needs proper care. Since it’s developed rapidly, it’s likely she’ll only have a number of months, maybe a couple of years left. It’s important for you to make her as comfortable as you can right now. I wish I had more, and again, I’m sorry.”

Doctor Moran gave another squeeze on his shoulder, then released. “We’ll all do what we can to help. She’s lived a long life, Trent. Know that and be grateful for it.”

The doctor turned to leave at the same time Trent’s phone buzzed on his hip again. Impatience snapped and he dug it from its holder and barked a terse greeting.

“What!”

“Agent Rossi?”

Trent
jerked, surprised at the tone on the other end. He turned and his gaze sought out his mother. “Chief Woolsey?”

A deep clearing of a throat followed. “Yes. I’m sorry I’m calling when I know you’re dealing with
some sort of emergency, but I need your help. I wouldn’t bug you if I didn’t think it wasn’t important.”

Trent frowned, released his mother’s hand and turned to
stare out the window at the buildings lifting to what seemed like a vaultless sky.

“What can I do,
Chief?”

“Have you—have you heard from Charlie?”

A trickle of unease licked down his spine. “No,” he said slowly. “Why?”

The chief let out a long, ragged sigh. “Shit, Rossi. I think she’s in trouble.”

All of his senses went on high alert. His vision sharpened, his ears picked up conversations down the hall, and his skin prickled with a spike of fear. “Tell me.”

“Charlie set up those checkpoints. I didn’t think they’d have any sort of success, but I’m willing to concede that in this case, I may be wrong. In fact, I know I was.”

His gaze narrowed, focused on the glass pane of a building across the street and the window washer who hovered some twenty stories above ground. “Get to the chase, Chief. Spit it out.”

“There’s no real easy way to ask this, son, but how well do you know Agent Echols?”

He gave a quick, disbelieving laugh, his shoulders relaxing. “Agent Echols? Hell, he is the Assistant Agent in Charge here in the New York City field office. While I’ve only worked for him for the last few months, he’s been with the bureau for close to twenty-two years.”

“Christ, Rossi. I know that, and I realize this doesn’t sound good, but, shit. You see, at one of the checkpoints Agent Echols came through and chatted up the officers a bit. Asked a few questions and the patrolman recognizing him let him through. They let him go despite his truck matching the vehicle we’re looking for.”

Trent shrugged, at a loss for words. “And? It’s a common vehicle.”

“It is
, but the tire treads matched. The officer didn’t think to report it until just now. He mentioned it as a passing thought. But that’s not all.”

Trent lifted his brows, unease splintering now. “What else?”

“Earlier I was sitting here with Charlie when she got a call from Echols. Told her he’d been notified of another murder, and since you took the cruiser, he needed a ride. I wasn’t made aware of the incident, apparently, since it was outside Nyack’s jurisdiction.”

He glowered. “Another murder? When?”

The chief let out an exasperated breath. “That’s the thing. I wanted to get some information on it and checked with dispatch, who had nothing. Called all the surrounding towns then. No one reported anything tonight. Then it hit me as odd that if Echols had a vehicle, the same SUV he went through the checkpoint with, why was he asking for a ride from Charlie? Why wasn’t he taking his own car?”

Trent
was already walking to the door, fear a chiming bell in his head. The clang grew, terror like an alarm clock intent on waking someone up.

“
I’m on my way.”

“She’s not answering her phone, Rossi.”

He stopped without warning, the sound of his rubber soles squeaking along the hospital floor. “How long has she been gone?” White walls closed in. This could not be happening.

“About ten minutes. Give me the address to his cabin.
I can’t find anything under his name.”

He cursed and turned in a circle, looking for the doctor, a nurse, someone he could make sure would sit with his mother. He spotted Susan down the hall and motioned to her.

“I don’t have it, but I’ll get it to you. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll call you back.”

“Okay, Rossi. But hurry up
. She’s like my ow
n
.”

He paused again and sucked in a breath, understanding exactly what the
chief said. “I know. I know exactly what you mean.”

****

Charlie’s headlights flashed across the dark forest as she pulled into the gravel driveway. Silver rocks laid a path toward the brown wooden cabin centered amongst a plethora of tall pine trees. A lone yellow lamp adjacent to the front door and the full moon shining above provided light over the area.

Charlie set the car in park and shut off the engine, eyeing the closed drapes and the slivers of light peeking through the blinds. She bit her lip with indecision, her gut rolling with some sort of
warning intuition. Something seemed off and she couldn’t put her finger on it. She propped open the car door, sat a boot outside the vehicle and listened. A symphony of crickets sang their song. Owls inserted a low musical beat from their perches above. The slight pop and hiss of her engine spoke of her drive up the mountain.

Chalking her nerves up to the scene she was heading out to and lack of sleep, she stepped out of the car and shut the door. Gravel crunched under her boots like crinkles of paper. She rounded the curve
of a walkway and bounded up wooden stairs. Charlie knocked on the screen door as she reached back for her phone, only to find her hip holder empty.

She cursed and turned around, when the
house door opened with a creak. Agent Echols stood in the doorway, his blond hair pale against the backlight of his home. His brown eyes landed on her intently and his face was set in a chiseled masked that gave none of his thoughts away.

“Detective Lopez, come in for a second. I’ve just got to grab a few things and then we’ll head out.” He propped the screen door open, stepped to the side and waited.

She hesitated a moment, her stomach screaming, mind urging her not to go inside. Her heart sped in her chest. Instincts squealed like the town’s fire alarm. Why was she reacting like this? She shifted her feet, fighting an urge to run, but squashed it as Agent Echols lifted a brow in question.

“
I’ve got to pass on the address to Woolsey. You got the location?”

He motioned his head over his shoulder. “Yeah, the address is sitting on the counter
. I get poor cell reception out here. You can call the chief from my house phone.”