Officer in Pursuit (22 page)

She sucked in a quick breath and tried
not to gag. A minute ago, she’d been so sure that whiskey bottle
would be the end of her. But it had hit the wall beside her head.
Now, having emerged from her brush with death, she experienced a
precious surge of inexplicable clarity and bravery.

She had to get out, now. Before he
really killed her.

Pretending to be weak, she gave his
arm another pathetic smack. Brad was clearly buying her charade –
he’d always underestimated her. The idea was to look like she was
panicking, though in truth, it wasn’t much of a stretch to fake
it.

His mouth twisted in a mocking smile,
and another blast of his breath hit her face. “That’s not gonna
help you get on my good side. That’s—”

She moved quickly, throwing the
hardest, most vicious right hook she could muster.

She hit him right on the jaw, and his
head snapped to the side.

He looked at her, rage flashing in his
eyes, but he didn’t let go.

And when she jerked, pushing against
the wall with all her strength, she couldn’t get free.

Really frantic now as the reality of
her failure dawned on her, she succumbed to a primal last resort:
she screamed, loud and long, hoping that someone – anyone – would
hear and do something about it.

* * * * *

God. The bitch had nerve!

Through the haze of whiskey – not
nearly enough whiskey – Brad’s jaw ached where Kerry had hit him.
Hit him, after he’d explained to her how he was going to let her be
his wife again, let things get back to normal, after she paid her
dues.

He slapped a hand over her mouth to
stifle her screams and forced her down to the floor.

Beneath his weight, her knees buckled
on the whiskey-soaked carpet.

“Shut up!” He’d always had an iron
stomach, but it roiled and twisted now, churning with rage. So she
thought she could hit him and get away with it? She must’ve
forgotten who she was dealing with. Too much time in the sun had
made her even stupider than before.

He raised a hand, looked into her
hateful, mocking eyes.

She moved fast, like a snake sneaking
and striking when your back was turned. Her fist was a small white
blur and he braced himself for another blow, ready to show her
exactly how useless her resistance was.

But she didn’t hit him with a closed
fist. She opened her hand and smashed it against his face, causing
it to explode with sharp, biting pain.

He rocked back on his heels, pulling
his hands to his face. God, it fucking hurt! His head spun, and
when he touched his face, he felt the hard, jagged pieces of the
whiskey bottle she’d mashed into his skin.

Still reeling, he lunged and stumbled
after her as she sprang across the room.

She made it to the door and struggled
with the chair, screaming as he closed in on her.

CHAPTER 17

Grey was still a block away when he
saw that Kerry’s car wasn’t in her driveway. A sinking feeling hit
him like a blow to the gut, making him realize more than ever how
much he’d been looking forward to seeing her.

As he parked in front of her house, he
pulled out his phone, remembering what she’d said about working
overtime. He’d figured she’d be home by the time he showered,
changed and made it to her place, but maybe she was working later
than she’d anticipated.

If that was the case, he could kill
some time by driving to Cypress’ little downtown and picking up
dinner for them both. Something good, and not junky – seafood,
maybe. He could grab a bottle of wine too, make a romantic surprise
out of it.

She’d like that, he was sure. Though
every time they’d been together had been hot and intense, they had
yet to have a truly normal date night. She was understandably
shaken by the fact that someone was harassing her and the
possibility that it might be her piece of shit ex-husband. But
today and the day before had gone smoothly; they should be able to
enjoy themselves in the safety of her home.

He didn’t get an answer when he
called, which wasn’t that weird, when he considered that she was
probably still working. After sending a text message asking her to
call when she was free, he sat in her driveway for a few seconds,
deliberating.

Eventually he turned around and headed
toward downtown, mentally cataloguing the local seafood offerings.
He’d pick something up and hope to hear from her by the time he got
back.

Twenty minutes later, he’d just
emerged from a restaurant with a bag full of peel-and-eat shrimp
and a chilled bottle of white wine when his phone went
off.

He barely paused to check the ID, he
was so sure it would be Kerry.

But it wasn’t. It was
Henry.

“Hey, man.” He loaded the food into
his car, disappointed.

“Where are you?” Henry sounded like he
was auditioning for a job as a Clint Eastwood impersonator, but
then, he sounded like that a lot.

“Downtown. Why?”

“Have you heard from Kerry
today?”

Grey hesitated. Liam and Henry didn’t
know he was sleeping with Kerry. No one knew, as far as he was
aware. “Yeah. This morning.”

“What time?”

“Early. Before she left for
work.”

There was a pause, but Henry didn’t
ask any questions. “I have bad news.”

Grey’s heart sank lower than he’d
known it could possibly go. A sense of dread made the back of his
neck prickle and his mouth taste like a sock full of moldy coffee
grounds. “Is it about Kerry?”

“She never showed up at work today.
The sheriff’s department found her car in a ditch. She wasn’t in
it.”

It took a split second for Henry’s
words to settle in, and then, all of a sudden, the anger Grey had
experienced at work that day seemed pale and weak. This was the
most devastating thing he’d ever heard.

“Nobody knows where she is,” Henry
said. “You haven’t heard from her since before she left for
work?”

“No.”

The silence that came next was
deafening. Grey had questions – so many fucking questions – and had
to fight to decide which one to ask first.

“She wrecked her car, but she wasn’t
at the scene?” He needed to hear it again, needed to make sure he
had the story straight. He didn’t want to believe it, but if it was
true, he needed to.

“Yeah. Sasha thinks you and Kerry have
been spending a lot of time together lately.”

“We have. I need to talk to
Jeremy.”

“He’s at my place right now, talking
to Sasha. Apparently she and Alicia are the closest thing Kerry has
around here to family. The police don’t have anyone else to ask,
besides them and her co-workers.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. Tell
Jeremy not to leave.”

He climbed back into his car, and the
scent of the steamed shrimp made him feel nauseated. He drove to
Henry’s place, wondering how he could possibly have gone through
his day completely oblivious when something terrible had happened
to Kerry.

* * * * *

The chair wedged beneath the door
handle might as well have been the Great Wall of China. Kerry
struggled with it for a second, then another – a lifetime as Brad
came at her, flying when he wasn’t stumbling.

His face full of shattered whiskey
bottle pieces was horrifying, even to her. Already, he wore his own
blood like a mask, his short beard matted to his jaw. The worst
part was that she knew he’d get her back a thousand times over if
she didn’t get past the fucking chair and out the door.

She bent over, feeling unbearably
vulnerable, and seized it by its legs, pulling with all her
might.

It came free, taking her by surprise
as its momentum threatened to topple her. She twisted, flinging it
behind her to compensate.

She heard the heavy wood collide with
Brad, but she couldn’t look back, only had eyes for the chain latch
as she tore it free with bloody, trembling hands.

When she forced the door open she
didn’t know where she was, not even what state she was in. She
hadn’t had a chance to look at a clock, but she could see that
there were mountains, and that the sun was dipping behind them. She
ran out into the dusky, alien place screaming like a
banshee.

She didn’t scream for help – she knew
better.

“Fire!” She screamed that there was
fire, over and over as she ran, taking a flight of stairs three at
a time.

Like something out of a horror movie,
undead and unstoppable, Brad was right behind her.

* * * * *

Grey sprinted to Henry’s front door.
There wasn’t much of a reason to do so, but urgency had ahold of
him, making him burn to do something, anything. He ran into Jeremy
about six feet past the door, in the living room.

“Whoa.” They both stumbled a little,
and while Jeremy braced himself with a hand against the couch, Grey
mumbled a halfhearted apology under his breath.

Wolf, Henry’s German Shepherd, jumped
up from where he’d been lying on the floorboards but didn’t make a
sound. Henry and Sasha sat on the couch together.

“If Kerry never made it to work,” Grey
said, “I was the last one to see her. What do you need to know –
what can I tell you that’ll help?”

“Hold on just a minute.” Jeremy looked
like this was all news to him. “You were with her this
morning?”

“I spent the night at her
house.”

Sasha made some sort of noise in the
background, but Grey barely heard it, couldn’t identify its
meaning.

“Okay. I’ll need you to tell me
everything about this morning – what she did, what she said, what
she was wearing. Normally we’d wait 24 hours to call this a missing
persons case, but in light of recent events, plus the fact that she
might be injured—”

“How bad was the crash?” Grey tried
his best to steel himself. He had to know.

“She hit a ditch, but it could’ve been
worse. She was probably driving more slowly than usual because of
the rain. The ditch stopped her car, did some damage to the
vehicle, but didn’t flip it. As to the extent of any injuries she
may have sustained, it’s impossible to say without seeing
her.”

Grey nodded as his brow beaded with
sweat. “You’re looking for her ex-husband, right? That son of a
bitch… She was so afraid of him. Afraid something would
happen.”

“Her vehicle was the only one found at
the scene of the crash, and there’s no evidence of a hit and run.
It looks like she may have hydroplaned.”

Grey’s temper had already been through
the wringer today. Now, it snapped. “Then where is she?” He was
yelling. “Where the hell is she, if it was just an
accident?”

Jeremy’s uniform had started to
crease, and as he met Grey’s eyes, the skin around his mouth
creased too. “We don’t know where she is.” His frown was deep, and
he shook his head. “That’s why I need to talk to you. Come on, down
to the station with me. We’ll leave Henry and Sasha in
peace.”

Henry stood suddenly, left Sasha alone
on the couch. “Grey didn’t have anything to do with her
disappearing, if that’s what you’re thinking. He was at work all
day, and our shift starts earlier than hers. He was already behind
prison walls by the time of the accident. I can vouch for that, and
so can Liam and dozens of other officers.”

Jeremy shook his head. “He’s not a
suspect in her disappearance. We don’t even have any evidence that
she was abducted.” He met Grey’s eyes again. “It’s just that stuff
like this is hard to deal with, hard to talk about. And we want to
get all the information we can, so we have our best chance of
finding her. This might take a while.”

Sasha was crying. Had been for some
time. Grey realized that now.

His own eyes were dry, but he’d never
wanted to punch something so badly.

Since it wasn’t his house, he kept his
fists to himself and followed Jeremy outside.

* * * * *

He’d left Kerry’s house for work at
7:30 am. She’d been planning to leave at 8. She’d been wearing navy
blue capri pants and a white blouse. She hadn’t indicated that
there’d be anything unusual about her day, but she’d still been
nervous about the vandalism and her ex-husband. They were looking
for her ex-husband, right?

Grey answered the same questions over
and over, kept making it a point to bring up Kerry’s ex. Though
Jeremy was patient and thorough with his questions, a part of Grey
was terrified that he was the only one who took Kerry’s worries
about her ex seriously, that the police weren’t looking for Bradley
Sawyer.

Grey clung to the theory
and kept shoving it in their faces because he was sure it was what
Kerry would want. He and Jeremy were the only ones she’d confided
in, and they had to do something. He didn’t know what else
he
could
do,
besides make sure that her ex-husband wasn’t forgotten.