Officer on Duty (Lock and Key Book 4) (19 page)

Lucia had never felt shittier. The stupid thing she’d done had spawned a tidal wave of guilt, one that had sucked her under on the way to the hospital and still held her in its thrall, making her wonder if it was possible to literally drown in misery.

God, she had to be the biggest idiot in Riley County! Olivia was gone – God knew where – and it was her fault. At first, she’d harbored hope that Olivia had run, escaped their attacker and hidden while Lucia had lain unconscious in the grass.

But if that’d been the case, the police would’ve found her by now. They hadn’t, though. And although no one had said as much to her yet, the truth was glaringly obvious: Lucia had probably only been left alive so that her attacker could focus on Olivia.

Fresh tears welled in her eyes as she lay on her side in an emergency room bed. The bright lights hurt her eyes, but she made herself hold them open, grasping the shred of penance. Why should she be comfortable when Olivia was probably suffering, maybe even – God forbid – dead?

Before suturing her head wound, the ER doctor injected her with a long needle. Where all of it went with her skull in the way, she had no idea. Then came the tug of sutures in her scalp, and the doctor reminding her of what she already knew: she had a concussion.

They wanted to keep her overnight.

She agreed, mostly because she couldn’t imagine driving and didn’t want to call any family or friends to come get her. Calling someone would’ve meant explaining what she’d done, and she couldn’t stand the thought. Not tonight.

All she wanted to do was close her eyes and lie alone in the dark. Sleep would probably be impossible, but she’d welcome the solitude.

It didn’t happen that way, though. Shortly after they moved her into an overnight room, somebody rapped on the door and entered. When he first walked in, she assumed he was another cop there to question her again, a stranger.

Then the breath was knocked out of her lungs for the second time that night.

There was no blow this time, no assault. Just the sight of Jeremy walking toward her.

 “Concussion?” he asked when he reached her bedside.

“Yeah.”

“How many stitches?”

“Ten.” As if it was a big deal when Olivia was still missing.

A thought drifted through her aching head: maybe Jeremy
was
there to question her.

She asked, and he shook his head.

“No. I heard what happened on the radio, then when I got your name, I came to see you.”

She considered thanking him for caring enough to show up, but there was a knot in her throat.

“God, I was so stupid,” she finally managed to say. “Olivia’s gone!”

“Y’all were going for a walk, right?”

“Yeah.” How much did he know? She’d explained everything to the officers who’d questioned her, including the reason she and Olivia had been downtown. “I took her to the women’s center for a pregnancy test. I was going to drive her home, but she was upset and so—”

A tight feeling in her throat made it impossible to finish explaining.

He nodded. “They’re looking for her.”

“She might be dead when they find her,” Lucia managed to say after a while, “like Kaylee and Brianna.”

He lowered himself onto the edge of her bed, and the white hospital sheets creased beneath his weight. “Hey – listen to me, Lucia. This isn’t like what happened to Brianna and Kaylee. Neither of them disappeared. We don’t know what happened to Olivia, and there’s no point in assuming the worst.”

“How can I not, though? You said investigators think the person who killed those girls was female, and the person who attacked us was wearing women’s shoes. How many violent female criminals can there be around here? This is my fault. If Olivia’s dead, I killed her with my stupidity.”

“No, you didn’t. You were trying to help.”

“You were helping when you shot that criminal, and you’ve still been beating yourself up over what happened to Richardson.” It was different – the shooting hadn’t been his fault at all. And he’d stopped it.

But her words seemed to have cast a spell of silence over him.

“All right,” he said after a while, “I know guilt. And I know it doesn’t do any good to let it tear you apart.”

“I can’t help it.”

He grasped one of her hands.

And didn’t say anything else.

* * * * *

Jeremy picked Lucia up at the hospital and drove her home the next day, parking in her driveway and not giving a damn who saw.

He had the day off work, and he was glad. Lucia lived alone just like Kaylee Wright had, and he couldn’t leave her on her own after what’d just happened. Especially not with the concussion.

Her attacker was still out there – a fact that set his teeth on edge. How damn hard was it going to be to find a murderer in a town the size of Cypress?

The person who’d attacked Lucia and Olivia should’ve been caught already. And yet, she was still MIA, along with Olivia.

As badly as he longed to catch the murderous bitch, keeping Lucia safe was his priority. He’d already called his mother and told her to double-check that her doors were locked and that her security system was set. As for Olivia…

There was nothing he could really do, at the moment. He was no detective, and it was his day off anyway. Lucia, on the other hand, he could help.

He locked the doorknob and deadbolt himself after escorting her inside her own home.

“Can I get you something to drink?” she asked.

Her display of manners was absurd, given the bandage wrapped around her head like a gauzy tiara.

“Absolutely not. Wait right here.”

He drew his weapon and left her in the kitchen as he cleared her house, searching for any signs of an intruder or forced entry.

There were none; her home was safe.

“I never leave without locking the doors,” she said when he returned.

“Locked doors won’t stop someone who’s determined.” He crossed the room, aware of the fatigue in her voice and the nervous look in her eyes.

He laid a hand on her arm and guided her toward the couch, where he took a seat beside her.

“The doctor said someone’s supposed to stay with you for the next twenty-four hours.”

She nodded, then winced. “I’m going to call my mom, or maybe one of my brothers. I have plenty of family in Wilmington.”

The dent in her lower lip gave her away.

“They don’t know what happened yet, do they?” he asked.

“No. My name hasn’t been on the news, has it?” Her brow furrowed.

“I don’t know. I haven’t been watching.”

She sighed. “I’m dreading telling them how I screwed up.”

“You don’t have to just yet, if you don’t want to. I can stay here with you.”

Her eyes widened, but she quickly lowered her lids, as if the light in the room was too much.

He stood and flipped it off, so the only illumination was the sunlight filtering in through the curtains.

“Thanks. You don’t have to stay, though.”

“I don’t mind. I have the day off.”

“I know, but we’re supposed to be taking a break while you wind down from the incident at work.”

There was a tight, painful feeling in his chest, like someone was squeezing his heart, threatening to tear the pulsing tissue.

Jesus, he couldn’t believe this had happened to her. Couldn’t believe she’d come so close to death.

He was no stranger to crime, including murder. And yet this had torn some part of him he hadn’t realized still existed, injecting his mind with a personal brand of horror as traumatizing as what any civilian would feel.

“A lot’s happened since we decided on that, wouldn’t you say?”

Her nose wrinkled, and the expression would’ve been comical, if she hadn’t looked so miserable.

“I hope you’re not trying to say that you want us to start seeing each other again because you feel sorry for me,” she said. “Although I don’t know why you would – everything that happened last night was my fault.”

She sounded so miserable, he’d have done anything to fix it.

But he knew guilt, and he knew it well. It wasn’t that easy to shove away.

“That’s not what I’m saying. And Lucia, you were trying to help that girl. That was all you meant to do, and you’re an exceptional person for trying. It’s not your fault there are shitty people out there, people who will exploit the good you do at any opportunity.”

“It’s my fault for not anticipating it, for not being more careful. I watch the news, and I even talked to you about it… I’m twenty-nine years old, and I should’ve known better.”

The tightness in his chest was unbearable. His reservations about their relationship avalanched to bare the mountain of his admiration for the woman beside him.

He’d told her she was exceptional, but that didn’t even begin to cover it. She was the type of person who’d shoulder other people’s burdens without thinking, carrying as much of the load as possible. Her heart was soft as silk and – now he realized – tough as nails at the same time.

“We all make mistakes,” he said. “Look at me: I should’ve drawn my weapon sooner last week. If I had, Richardson might not have taken that bullet. I was the one in charge, the one with experience – sort of like you with Olivia. I fucked up, and there were shitty consequences. I hate that someone else has to live with them when I’m the one who should be suffering, but I can’t go back in time, and neither can you.”

She met his gaze and blinked. Her dark eyes were shining.

“It sucks,” she said. “I feel like the worst person on earth.”

He reached out and took one of her hands, squeezed. “You’re not.”

She was silent for a long time, but she didn’t pull her hand away.

“Thanks for coming to the hospital, and for the ride home,” she eventually said.

“Wild horses couldn’t have kept me out of that emergency room.”

“Well, you’ve gone above and beyond being a good cop, and definitely above and beyond being a good neighbor.”

His heart lurched inside a chest so tight he feared he might suffocate, the weight of his desire for her was that crushing. Their last conversation played on a loop in his mind. How had he ever had the strength to say what he’d said, to end what they’d just begun?

He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anyone or anything, even if he didn’t deserve her. The pain of almost having her snatched away was like a full-body chemical burn, and he knew only her touch would ease it.

“So you’ll let me stay?” he asked.

“Okay. Don’t worry, though – I won’t read too much into it.”

Her words stung like a slap, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

He’d been too wrapped up in his own guilt after the shooting to give her the time and energy she deserved, and he’d recognized it. But now he sensed her hurt: a reflection of the same agony he’d been dragging around like a ball and chain.