Safely Home (21 page)

Carl had looked as relieved to see her as she was to see h
im. That realization helped ease guilt on both parts. And if Carl was right, if things happened for a reason, then she had much to be thankful for. Thoughts of Alex’s affection, his warmth, his strength brought a smile to her face as she passed another grove of trees, their leaves dancing in the quickening wind, her heart joining the dance, light and carefree.

Until a hand touched her arm, a familiar hand. Too familiar.

James.

Cress hadn’t light-stepped her rise to detective status. She did a spin move that put her out of his reach, away from his touch, enough to brace herself against whatever might come her way. With James, you never knew, and the look in his eye
was as familiar as the touch, a mix of anger and disgust, as if she’d disappointed him yet again.

Like what else was new?

“Don’t touch me, James.”

He sighed a
s if her reaction was blown out of proportion, totally out of reality’s realm. “I just wanted to see you. Talk to you. You’ve been ignoring me, blocking my e-mails, not answering my calls. It’s annoying, Cress.”

“Whereas I’d call it self-preservation,” Cress shot back, her gaze locked on his, her mind exploring
her available options.

She’d walked too far, figuring the half hour waiting for
Alex would be better spent moving, but she’d done fifteen minutes in quick-step time and that put her over a mile from the original meeting spot, trees and curves removing her from any vantage point Alex might have.

James smirked, reading her mind. “Lover boy won’t see, hear or have a clue when he gets back.” He moved closer, daring her to make a move, to run, to flee. “And there’s plenty of tree cover and wild grasses between here and there. Lots of cover on a nice, quiet day in the park.”

The rain started then, not too hard, but firm with the promise of a growing storm. The rain would make footing dicey in the sand and the grass, and James was right. The parks commission had designated certain areas for natural growth to minimize mowing expenses. The tall grasses and wildflowers leant a natural look to the landscape, but trying to escape through them would be short of ridiculous. A distance runner in college, James prided himself on his running skills, and his longer legs would eat up ground quickly.

She couldn’t outrun him, so she had to outsmart him. Buy time.
Alex would be back soon, and what would he think? Do? Would he know she was in trouble or just assume she’d gone off somewhere with Carl? Why hadn’t she called him when Carl took off?

Dumb.

She backtracked from that thought instantly. Feeding into her self-doubts offered James an advantage she couldn’t afford. “So you’ve upgraded to stalking now? Why am I not surprised?”

“Not stalking,” James corrected. He stepped forward.

She stepped back.

“I needed to see you. Talk to you. Apologize.” He added the last word
as if he’d just thought of it. He stepped forward again and stretched out a hand. “I’m sorry, Cress. I really am. And I don’t want us to part like this, angry and antagonistic.”

Cress matched his moves forward with steps back, refusing to be within his reach. “Apology accepted. Now go.”

He shook his head, the patronizing smile scolding her like a father would an errant child. “We had good times, Cress.”

“I’m having a hard time remembering those, James.” Cress began backing down the beach, each step taking her closer to the picnic table she shared with Carl, and her meeting spot with
Alex. “But it’s over. I’ve put it behind me. You should too.”

“Can it ever really be over?” James mused, following her moves, his steps a little bigger, a little longer, his question snaking fear along her spine. “Can I just go on, imagining you with someone else? Being with someone else? Sharing his life, his bed?”

The niggle of fear mushroomed into growing panic.

Cress fought it down.

“You look good, Crescent.” James’ gaze skimmed top to bottom, his expression dark with appreciation. “But then you always did.”

“Stop, James. Before this gets out of hand, like we know it will. Because this time I will press charges, do whatever it takes. Just turn and walk away, leave it alone. It’s over. We’re over. My job’s over.”

“It’s over when I say it’s over, Cress. Not before.” He lunged forward, the sand giving him trouble, his move less crisp than usual. As he closed the short steps between them, he found himself staring into the no-nonsense end of a light, compact Glock aimed straight for the heart.

He stopped.

She didn’t. “Leave it, James. Leave me alone, do not touch me or come near me ever again.”

He followed, either stupid or doubting she had the guts to pull that trigger. James knew her, he played to her weak side time and again, only this time…

She had no weak side. Not anymore.

His glance flicked to her legs, as if to drop-tackle her. She kept her gaze trained on his face, his body mass. “The bullet will be in your heart long before your impact takes me to the sand, James. Think again. Walk away now, while there’s still time.”

She read his face, his dark expression, the challenge she offered, and knew he wouldn’t walk away. Maybe couldn’t walk away.

She prayed for strength. Commitment. Courage
. What had Alex told her? Something about locking the dragons up and throwing away the key? Well here was the most formidable dragon of them all, plenty scary in the here and the now.

But she was different
from the woman she’d been. She clung to that as he assessed the situation, sizing her up, wondering if she had the guts to do whatever proved necessary to maintain her safety.

For the first time in a long time, Cress knew she had everything it t
ook. She just hoped and prayed she didn’t have to use it.

“You’d never do it, Cress.” James faced her, hands out, a defenseless stance, giving her a full frontal shot if necessary. “Not after all we’ve been to each other. Meant to each other.”

“Save it for Oprah. I’m done with soft-sells.”

“Your upscale boyfriend doesn’t do rough?” James’
assessing grin found Alex wanting and that irked her. “Then he’ll never keep you happy.”

He stepped forward, invading her space again.

Cress countered, feet braced apart, pushing toes into the sand, heels raised slightly. She hadn’t played years of swimsuit-clad beach volleyball without gaining a few tricks. She refused to banter with James, knowing that’s what he wanted, to keep her talking, moving, waiting for his optimum moment.

He wouldn’t get it. Not ever again.

A car sounded in the distance, the motor of Alex’s SUV drawing her awareness. It wound past, the sound softening as Alex headed to where he’d left her.

James seized the opportunity to come in low, the tackle spot on. His thrust drove her to the
sand, the impact sending the gun hurtling into the air before it landed in the sand just out of reach. “How big you feeling right now, Crescent?”

James’ weight pushed her into the ground, the
friable sand limiting her choices.

She tried to scream but a rough hand clamped over her mouth, the smell of his fingers horridly familiar. “Nobody walks out on me, Cress. Not now, not ever. I’m in charge, I run the show, we play this out on my dime, got it?”

She nodded, knowing agreement was her only current option and hating it, angry that she found herself in the same frightening situation she’d walked away from.

“Good.” He settled against her, eyes dark and more than a little manic, making Cress wonder if he was high. With James’ profile, it shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it did, and the knowledge offered
a mixed bag of leverage and added danger.

Keeping her gaze trained on hi
s, she waited him out, knowing she’d have one chance, one shot, literally and figuratively, hoping to buy time but not afraid to use whatever means necessary to save her life. The small knife she carried as a useful tool was within reach of her right hand if he shifted just a little. One press of the button would release the razor-sharp blade. The trick then would be to stab James and not herself, a tricky move considering their positioning and the rain. And the fact that she’d have to stab him through her favorite khakis totally ticked her off. It was hard enough to find pants that fit all the right places and then to sacrifice a pair to James’ power lust?

Infuriating.

Would the right moment come? James hot breath and self-satisfied expression had her uttering another silent prayer for strength and good aim. He had her right where he wanted her, helpless and prone beneath him. She’d use that as her momentum, play dumb, play placid, feed into his control frenzy.

And then make that one strike count.

Chapter
Sixteen

The empty picnic table stabbed fear through Alex. Where was she? Where was Carl?

“Cress?” He called her name as he ran to the water’s edge, his eyes raking east and west. “Cress!”

No answer. Not a sound. The rain intensified, the wet sand leaving no trace of her path left or right, at least not to a greenhorn like him. He swore lightly, pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. When the dispatcher answered, Alex growled Carl’s name.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but that information—”

Alex cut her off. “We have an officer in danger at Lake Nokomis. Ingstrom was with her when I left. Find him, give him this cell number and tell him it’s an emergency. Now. He’ll understand.”

His cell rang seconds later. “Ingstrom?”

“What’s going on?” Carl sounded rushed, angry and more than a little put out. “Where’s Cress?”

“That’s what I’d like to know. I left her with you, in your care, and she’s gone.”

Carl swore.

Alex echoed the message. “Where is she, Carl?”

“I have no idea. She said she was going to take a walk along the shore since you’d be a little while.”

“You left her alone.” The accusation in Alex’s voice made the implication clear that this was Carl’s fault, his responsibility. “Which way did she go?”

“I don’t know, but help’s coming. I’m on my way too.” He cursed James as a car horn sounded a driver’s indignation.

“You think he’s here?”

“My call was a false alarm. A set-up. Yeah, he’s there and he’s armed. And flippin’ furious that she dumped him.”

Dear God.

The sound of sirens punched fear into Alex’s gut. Would they be in time? Would they find her unharmed?
Making a decision, he raced west, the wet sand slowing his progress at a time when he badly wanted grid-iron speed. He rounded the first curve and saw nothing out of place, the stand of trees whipping in the rising wind, rain sheeting, soaking him, his feet, the sand.

The sirens grew louder, closer, a combination of tones from multiple directions. Tires screeched to a stop not far away as Alex barreled around the next grove of trees, his pulse thrumming, his mind envisioning dark outcomes.

Bad cops had robbed his father of any chance he might have had at rehabilitation, at finding new life. And even though the rational Alex knew the chances of his father’s redemption might have been slim, they became none at the hands of a trio of cops who made sport out of thrashing a drunk, then dumping him across the county line for someone else to find. His father’s internal injuries had been his death knell, and the power-hungry cops?

They got away with a written reprimand and a few months of desk time.

And now another power-tripping cop might have Cress. Old anger choked him as he followed the tree line left, a tiny cove jutting into the sand.

His heart froze. Literally.

She stood, feet braced, her hair a mess of wet sand and tangles, the back of her cute pants wet and soiled, arms out, hands clenched, a gun pointed directly at the heart of a guy wearing a mock-designer jacket stained with blood.

“That you, Alex?”

She didn’t sound scared. Or panicked. Not in the least bit damsel-in-distress. Nope, not her. Not his Crescent. “It’s me.”

“We’ve got help?”

“Pouring in from all sides from the sound of it.”

“Good. Saves me from putting a bullet in his heart. Or his head. He is soooo not worth the paperwork.”

“I can’t disagree, honey. And his jacket’s a knock-off.” Alex let his derisive tone underscore his words.

A tiny grin eased her taut jaw, her rigid stance. “Once a phony, always a phony.”

Cops approached from all sides, weapons drawn, sizing up the situation. Cress put her hands high, the gun pointed skyward. “Detective Cress Dietrich, MPD.” She jerked her head Alex’s way. “He’s with me. And that blood-sucking vermin over there,” she pointed a hand to where James stood, “is armed and dangerous, in need of a doctor and a lawyer which I’m sure Daddy will provide. Feel free to wait on the doctor, let him bleed out a bit.”

“Cress.” Carl pounded up the beach, calling her name.

She turned, offered him a wan smile, then holstered her gun into her back waistband. “A false alarm, I take it?”

“I’m so sorry.” Carl reached her side and gave her a hug that should have been Alex’s, especially since Carl left her alone, in harm’s way
. Carl stepped back. Eyed Alex. “You probably want to kill me.”

“Twice. What
were you thinking, leaving her alone like that?” Alex shrugged an arm around Cress and pulled her close, his grip and stance leaving no doubt about his feelings, his intentions. “He could have killed her this time.”

“But he didn’t.” Cress pulled away just a little and slanted her gaze up to Alex, then Carl. “I stood my ground. Defended myself. And ruined my favorite pants in the process, and they
don’t even make this style anymore.”

Alex dropped his chin to her hair as the officers cuffed James and read him his rights. “I’ll buy you more. I promise. As many as you want, okay?”

“Okay.” She pretended to be mollified, then jerked her head James’ way, her gaze trained on Carl. “He won’t be able to buy his way out of this one, right?”

“No.” Carl looked her over, his expression serious. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Nothing major. A few bumps and bruises when I hit the ground, but my handy little pocket knife took him by surprise. Twice, actually.”

“Good job.” Carl’s look of appreciation said he approved whatever means it took to stave off James’ attack.

With Cress snug in the shelter of his arm, Alex hit a speed dial on his phone. She leaned away. “Who are you calling?”

He tugged her forward, figuring they could talk just as easily someplace where it wasn’t pouring rain. “Home Depot. I’m ordering locks for the knife drawer.”

“Very funny.” She stopped and looked up at him, worry shadowing her face, her eyes. “I don’t like hurting people.”

He pulled her in for a long overdue hug. “I know that, honey. I know that. But I’m still ordering the drawer lock. Just in case.”

She laughed against his jacket, then half-sobbed, realization setting in. He dipped his head, ignoring the rain, the commotion, the gathered police presence. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

She huffed a breath and nodded, scrambled a hand into her pocket for a tissue, came up empty and used her sleeve.

Total Cress.

She raised her gaze to his
. Her expression said she heard and believed his pledge, his promise. “But I did it, Alex. I stood up to him. Took him down. All by myself.”

He
understood the magnitude of the turning point. “Yes, you did. And I’m proud of you.”

“Me too.” Carl jerked his head toward the road. “Can we finish this back at the station? Where it’s not raining?”

Cress dropped her forehead to Alex’s shirt, nodded and started moving toward the road. “Let’s get it done.”

*

“Nice jeans.” Alex shot her baggy pants a teasing look. “I take it you keep nothing in your locker?”

“Not a thing. These are Mary Kay’s. The shirt is Mona’s. And the sweatshirt is Carl’s.”

“Looks great.”

She smiled up at him, hearing the warmth behind the words, the appreciation of her despite the rag-tag outfit. “Thanks, Counselor.”

“You’re welcome, Detective.” He swept the squad room a questioning look. “We’re good here? Done?”

“Yes.” Carl approached them from the side. He hugged Cress then stuck out a hand to Alex. “I want to say again how sorry I am. That I left her.” He shook his head, guilt shadowing his eyes, his gaze. “I never thought James would go this far.”

Cress laid a hand on his arm. “Me either. But it’s over. And it wasn’t your fault, or yours,” she flicked her gaze Alex’s way, her expression frank. “Or mine. One of the first rules of police engagement is to gauge action to reaction. He moved, we reacted. If nothing else, he should spend a decent amount of time in the general population wishing he’d never been born. I’m okay with that.”

Carl nodded. “Daddy’s connections can’t smooth this one. The captain’s already made that clear and the mayor is backing him up totally. After the recent task force scandals, everyone’s on the same page of keeping things clean, on the up and up.”

His words needled Alex, memories of his father’s untimely death washing over him. But then he looked around the police station, the worn desks, the scuffed floors, the paint that could use a touch up. He looked beyond the battle scars and saw hard-working, every-day people, trying to do a tough job and do it right, then having to endure the public smack-down when one of their own turned dirty, making a tough job tougher. At that moment, Alex realized that for every bad cop there were dozens of good ones, for every crooked deal done under a table, hundreds went down according to law. And while the legal side of him hated admitting it, he understood that life was never crystal clear, not one hundred percent, anyway.

And he could live with that.

He wrapped an arm around Cress’s shoulders, pressed a kiss to her temple, sniffed and pretended appreciation. “New shampoo?”

“I used whatever was in the shower room. It smells like death. I know.” She elbowed him, none too easy, either, and he laughed, gripping her tighter.

“Lilacs.” Carl leaned in, sniffed and gagged. “You smell like my great-aunt Rose. I think her sense of smell is gone and she literally pours the stuff on.” He stepped back, eyed Cress, worked his jaw and shrugged, uncertain. “We okay?”

“Always.” She
hugged him, grabbed her phone from his desk, glanced around and gave a brisk nod. “I’ll come back another day to clear things out. I tendered my resignation so once it’s processed, we’re good to go.” She glanced around the room again, as if committing it to memory, turned and whacked Carl on the shoulder. “Later.”

“Right.”

Alex kept his grip firm as they walked out the front door, his collar itching like it always did in the city. He released her shoulders to open the car door, then shut it carefully once she’d settled herself, trying not to think of how close he’d come to losing her.

As he angled the car out onto the road, she leaned her head back and sighed, relieved. “What a day.”

“Listen, Cress, I—”

She put a hand to his mouth in a quick move that reminded him she wasn’t just your average, every day, ordinary girl. “If you apologize again I’m going to get really, really angry. Got it?”

He smiled against her fingers. “Got it. You still up for seafood?”

She thought a moment, then nodded, refusing to let James ruin one more minute of her life. “I’m starving.”

Alex he steered the car toward the access ramp. “And we do need to fill out those jeans. Significantly.”

She laughed and brushed a hand across the borrowed pants. “You know it’s funny. Mary Kay and I used to be
good friends. We came on the force at almost the same time, and she’s one solid cop. No pun intended,” Cress added, pinching excess denim for emphasis. “And then we took different paths, James didn’t like her, and we fell out of touch, so it was real nice of her to run to the rescue with clothes for me.”

Alex nodded, silent, his jaw tight.

Cress put her hand in his lap. He dropped his right hand from the wheel, grabbed hers and gave it a light squeeze.

“I see the pattern now,” Cress admitted, enjoying the feel of his hand, his silent commiseration. “But at the time it seemed normal. Almost justified. James was good at stroking my ego, giving me inflated ideas about myself. Thoughts that probably would have shamed my family. Then when things went totally south, got real bad, I had no one to turn to. Correction,” she added, emphasizing the word, “I felt like I had no one to turn to. But now…” Her voice softened as she gazed out, then shifted in her seat to face him square. “Now I do.”

Alex flashed a quick smile her way. “Family. Friends. You’re surrounded, Cress.”

She settled back in her seat, a self-satisfied smile chasing the day’s early shadows. “I know. I like it, by the way. A lot.”

“Good. Because I’ve got some finish work that needs to be done on my new kitchen, and I’m looking for advice. Female advice.”

Wonder and anticipation tickled her spine. “Really, Counselor? Would this be particular female advice or will anyone do?”

He squeezed her hand one more time before releasing it to make a turn onto I-94. “I’m somewhat exacting about the advice I get these days, so I’m only after one woman’s opinion on matters like this.” He flicked a knowing glance her way. “Yours.”

The Hallelujah chorus began playing in her heart, a total orchestrated rendition by the Minneapolis Philharmonic, front-ended by vocals from the St. Paul’s Cathedral choir.

She turned her head to contain the smile. No sense letting stuff go to his head indiscriminately. The man had an ego outsized only by his heart, staid and solid, tough and true. “I’ll come by this weekend.”

Alex’s expression said he understood too much, but he just nodded, quirked a grin and eased the stick shift into fifth. “I’ll look forward to it.”