Her Dangerous Promise - Part 1: (Romantic Suspense Serial) Page 3

  “He let her go,” Thom murmured to himself. “This guy snatches her, nearly kills her and then let her walk. What are you involved in Mary? What kind of trouble are you in?”

  The station itself was just a twenty by ten foot shack with plywood boarding up the windows and door. The state removed the pumps years earlier, leaving the rusted awning to cover a bare patch of gravel.

  Allen Wiseman, the nightshift forensic supervisor, directed the patrolmen who poked around the gravel and the grassy ditches on either side of the road and were collecting bits of trash on the off chance the perpetrator dropped them. The side door of the van, filled with equipment that Allen drove to every crime scene, stood open. He sorted the evidence bags into storage boxes and marked them on his log.

  “Allen, tell me something good,” Thom crouched next to the boxes of collected flotsam so far mined from the area and flipped through them.

  “Nothing spectacular so far. Do you have an idea of what you might be looking for?” Allen removed his reading glasses. With his trim white beard and post-middle age spread, the forensic scientist resembled Santa Claus and the glasses only added to the effect.

  “Did you take fingerprints from the building?”

  “The phone too.”

  “Any footprints?”

  “Not on this gravel or the paved street. Tire marks wouldn’t show up either.”

  “Look for anything that might have been used for restraints. Rope or cable, that sort of thing.”

  Allen consulted his list, “Nothing like that so far.”

  Thom tossed the evidence bags back into the box. None of the bits of trash would point him in the direction of the kidnapper. He stood and scanned the area again, willing some shred of evidence to leap out at him.

  “Did you check the grass for disturbance patterns before letting these guys trample the area? Mary…the victim has scratches on her legs and grass and brambles on her socks and shoes.”

  Allen jammed his glasses back on his nose before returning to his paperwork. “I do know my job.”

  “Sorry.” Thom made a slow circle. No other buildings were visible, just fields of wild grass growing yellow in the autumn chill and the occasional clump of trees. “So, no signs?”

  “Not in the immediate area.”

  “Rats. This grass grows all up and down this stretch of road and goes who knows how far back into the woods. She could have come from anywhere.”

  “Well, there is grass and then there is grass.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When I get back to the lab I’ll be able to determine what species of plants she brushed up against. It might narrow down the scope some.” Allen glanced up at Thom, scrutinizing him like a fingerprint. “You’re letting the job get to you again, Thom. Keep this up and you’ll need blood pressure medicine. Have you given anymore thought to taking a vacation? You know if you don’t take it by the end of the year you’ll lose it.”

  “I know.” Thom spiked his fingers through his hair, annoyed with himself and the situation. They had nothing to go on, unless Allen produced some feat of forensic magic. Nothing to catch this guy except what Mary Seeton could tell him. His hopes of a quick capture dried up. As tough as it would be on her, he had to get the information he needed from Mary. So much for sparing her that pain.

  “Listen Thom, go home and get some rest. It’s past midnight already and I know you were on the job at six this morning. I’ll work through the night and have a report for you tomorrow. Deal?”

  “Thanks, Allen. Work a miracle, okay?”

  “That’s what I’m known for.”

  Chapter Six

  Mary struggled awake. In her battle, she tugged loose the lightweight sheet covering her and flung it away so it fluttered to the floor. When the dream assailant finally released her she jolted upright in bed. Her hands scrambled to her neck, covering and protecting it. The presence of the dream hands still squeezed on her skin. In her nightmare, he choked her again as he had before. Mary gulped at the air, which her dream mind thought she’d been denied. The tang of antibacterial cleansers filled her nose, replacing the dank odor of a basement.

  “Are you okay?”

  Mary started at the voice. A man she didn’t know slouched on the chair at the foot of her bed. His long legs stretched across to another chair. He kicked that chair back, planted his feet on the ground and rose to his full and impressive height. Everything about him screamed danger—the size of his biceps, the power in his eyes, the speed of his long strides as he approached.

  Adrenaline stung her blood as panic flooded her senses. Mary recoiled, pushing her palms out toward him as if that gesture alone could force him away. “Stay back!”

  “Whoa.” He raised his hands innocently. “I’m not going to hurt you, Mary. I’m one of the good guys.”

  “Don’t come any closer!”

  “I won’t,” he said, offering a compassionate smile that looked natural on him as he eased his hands slowly to his sides. “Miss Seeton, my name is Inspector Thom Brady. I’m with the Stony Bend Police Department’s Missing Persons and Violent Crime Division. I can show you my ID, if you like. My badge is here on my belt.” When Mary didn’t respond right away, he added, “We actually spoke for a few moments last night when you were first brought to the hospital. Do you remember?”

  Mary scrutinized Thom. His rumpled, slept-in clothes creased where his muscles strained them. The sleeves, rolled up to his elbows, revealed well-defined and moderately-haired forearms and she recalled seeing him and noticing the sleeves before. With his athletic build and broad chest he could certainly overpower her if he chose, but he didn’t.

  Her gaze trailed down to his trim waistline and the badge on his belt. Whatever comfort the badge provided, the gun holstered beside it counteracted. Thom was tall and while probably only a head more than she, his cop aura magnified his intimidation factor.

  After drinking in his substantial presence, Mary’s gaze finally drifted to his face. She did remember that face and the sense of security she’d felt when he’d held her hand. Those eyes, preternaturally green, stole away her defenses.

  “I remember you,” she breathed, barely more than a whisper.

  Thom dragged his fingers through his dark hair. “I’m glad.” He smiled in a sexy, shared-secrets kind of way that liquefied Mary’s insides. “I’ve been worried about you. Everyone has.” Without seeking any further approval, Thom scooped up the sheet from the floor and covered Mary’s bare legs.

  For the first time, she noticed that nothing more than a flimsy hospital gown shielded her body from Thom’s view. Even then, in her struggle it had ridden high on her thighs. She blushed at her immodesty but Thom didn’t seem to notice either her bare skin or her embarrassment. Instead, he drew the sheet up under her chin and when she reclined on the mountain of pillows, he added a blanket and tucked her in for good measure. His hands, drawing the blanket snugly around her body, sent a river of excitement along her nerves.

  Disarmed by his gentleness, Mary simply said, “Thank you.”

  With one arm, Thom hoisted a heavy padded chair, designed for comfort during long bedside vigils, to the head of the bed and he settled back into it. “Did you notice the flowers? They are from your principal. She’s blaming herself for what happened.”

  Mary glanced at the enormous bouquet on the bedside table, astonished she could have overlooked it until now. The floral display practically exploded in leaves and blossoms with dramatic exuberance. The rich floral scent surrounded her immediately, as if it had politely waited for her notice before embracing her. The velvety petals invited her touch. Mary just stared at them, knowing that at least a polite smile was appropriate but unable to summon one.

  Like a cloud of black sludge, memories overtook her. As real as the cackle of a specter, she h
eard him whisper, “Swear on the life of your cat. Swear on the lives of your children.” No longer the voice of a child in the body of a man, now the voice dripped with malice. Her cat she could send away if needed, to Mrs. Jorgenson across the street most likely. But the children, how could she protect them without admitting her selfish promise? Their lives were not hers to bargain with. She wanted to cast the flowers from her, along with the reminder of the place and people she cared about the most and had betrayed. The beauty and love embodied in that gift mocked her for her weakness.

  “Shall I read the card for you?” Thom offered, reaching for it.

  “No, please.” Mary grabbed at the card to stop him but instead her fingers slipped into his palm. Like a shock, Mary vividly recalled him enfolding her hand into a tender embrace last night. Their eyes locked for a breathless moment. All menacing thoughts fled before him, driven away by his vitality that sparked a response low in her belly.

  “Mary, I need your help to catch the guy who did this to you.” Thom leaned closer, intense in an “us against him” conspiratorial posture.

  Again, she felt the dream hands upon her throat, threatening to squeeze. Mary rubbed her fingers over her neck, needing to check if they had truly materialized there or if they only existed in her fears. He waited for an answer, one she could never risk giving to him. “Inspector—”

  “Please, call me Thom.”

  She swallowed. He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. With all that was at stake, she dare not speak with him. Even being seen with him posed too much of a risk. How could she convince him to just leave her alone? “I just want to take a shower, get dressed and go home. I need to put this whole matter behind me.”

  “I can understand how you feel. You’ve been through a traumatic experience. You want to just pretend nothing happened but you can’t.” He stroked a fingertip across her bandaged wrist, sending a spark along her skin. “Believe me, I’ve been around enough to know closing your eyes and denying it won’t make it go away.”

  Thom’s gentleness crumbled her reserve. She’d been prepared to stand tough against an interrogation. If anything she deserved rebuke for her behavior. She hadn’t been prepared for tenderness. If only she could share her secret with one person, Mary thought, she might be able to endure the burden of it. The guilt swelled like a palpable weight in her heart until she no longer could sit upright. She slumped against the soft pillows, which by the very nature of their gentle support, felt only a tiny fraction of the understanding and caring that she perceived in Thom’s voice. The cold front of guilt and the warm front of his kindness collided into a storm of grief inside her that left her helpless to endure it. The tears swelled and brimmed on her eyelids.

  “It’ll haunt you,” he warned.

  How could she tell him that it already did? First one, and then another tear, trailed down her cheeks.

  “You have to face this head on. You have to focus your hurt and anger into catching this man and making him pay.” Thom whipped several tissues from the box on the bedside table and mopped at the tears clumsily. “It’s okay to let it out. I’ll help you. We’ll get through this together.”

  With that simple assurance, Mary’s control ruptured and she wept uncontrollably.

  Chapter Seven

  Mary indulged in what Thom’s mother called “a good cry”. From all his years on the force, Thom understood the therapeutic value of simply allowing the dam to break and wash away all the emotional blocks that prevented people from dealing with their tragedy and starting over. He let Mary sob freely until she regained some control, offering her tissues as she needed them.

  Eleven years on the force had taught him some boilerplate victim psychology. First the flood of emotions, then the spontaneous launch in to the account of the ordeal. Tick tock, tick tock, just like clockwork. Thom smoothed the warm blond waves from Mary’s face, longing to comfort her more fully but restraining himself. Let the tears do their cathartic cleansing so the healing could begin and justice could be done. As she regained control he waited for Mary to launch into her tale but her emotional outburst calmed like the ocean after a hurricane, giving up no secrets of what caused the underlying turmoil. Oh God, Thom thought. Just because the rape kit came back negative didn’t mean she hadn’t been sexually assaulted in some way. Gently, he asked, “Would you rather speak with a female officer?”

  “No.” She dabbed the last of the moisture from her cheeks and composed herself. “No. I don’t want to speak with anyone.”

  Despite that initial outburst of emotion, Mary remained firmly walled up inside herself. Was it merely trauma, or was something else going on here? “Mary, I really need you to give me a statement.”

  “I don’t know what I can tell you, Inspector.”

  Back to the professional title, Thom noticed. Her eyes darted to the window, the flowers, the door; everywhere but to meet his gaze. Her body language symbolically closed herself off from him and his interrogation. She crossed her arms tightly over her stomach and her ankles beneath the blanket, twisting herself up as if that would lock him out. She was hiding something and she was too transparent to pull it off. Lying obviously didn’t come naturally to her. So why was she lying to him now?

  “Did you know this person?”

  “No.”

  “Ex-boyfriend? A coworker?”

  “No.”

  “A family member perhaps?”

  “No.”

  Thom hated twenty questions. Her blunt answers rang true, so he tended to believe them so far. Eyeing her suspiciously, he phrased another question. “Are you protecting someone?”

  Mary twitched visibly, as if a bee had stung her but she fought not to let it show. “No.”

  A lie. Most people demonstrated a physical indicator when they lied but Mary’s obvious twitch made her so easy to read she may as well have been hooked to a polygraph. Thom cocked his head, probing her with his eyes. “Had you ever seen this person before?”

  “No.”

  “So he was a stranger,” Thom announced. “Why would you be protecting a stranger? Especially one who hurt you?”

  Mary flung back the covers and twisted to get out of bed. Thom caught her by the elbow. “Did he threaten you?” Thom demanded.

  “Let go of me, Thom.” Mary’s order sent ice through him. She glared at him with steely determination. If she fired that school teacher look at her unruly third graders, those kids didn’t stand a chance. With that in her arsenal, perhaps Miss Seeton’s willowy appearance masked more strength than he’d credited her with. At least she used his first name, even if he hadn’t liked the tone in which she said it. Why would someone with that kind of spark not fight against her assailant? Would not even try to get him incarcerated? His last question hit a mega nerve, judging by her reaction. The guy scared her, even now. He released her. “I can protect you, if you’ll let me.”

  Chapter Eight

  Mary hesitated. Words slammed to the back of her throat, wanting to come out but she bit them back. No matter what, she had to keep her promise. Saying nothing would be easier than trying to explain why she couldn’t accept his offer to help. Once she began to open up to Thom, Mary wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. While she desired to unburden herself to him, for everyone’s sake she dared not risk it.

  Keeping her back to him, Mary opened the closet. Neat piles of towels filled the side shelves but not her clothes. “Where are my things?”

  “Forensics collected them for evidence.”

  “Then what am I supposed to wear?” Mary glanced back at him.

  Thom slumped back into his chair, laced his fingers together and draped them across his toned belly. Cocking his head to the side, Thom seemed to ponder the merits of her flimsy hospital gown. Wasn’t using sex appeal unconstitutional? Eyes as penetratingly green as his violated her ci
vil rights. Anything she said, or did, under the influence of those eyes shouldn’t be held against her. The boyish grin tugging on the corners of his lusciously kissable mouth told the tale. He knew how his charm and looks affected her, the cheat. A flash of heat swirled across her skin like a sandstorm and spun into a tornado in her stomach. He asked, “What’s your hurry?”

  “Listen, I’m not playing games with you. Not today. I’m going home now. I can walk if you won’t take me. I’ll wear nothing but this nightgown if you won’t give me clothes.”

  “Tell you what. Go take a shower and I’ll see what I can do about getting you something to wear. I’ll get the doctor to sign your release and I’ll drive you home.”

  “And no more questions?”

  Thom paused, his eyes narrowing like a cat deciding how to play with a mouse. Finally, in a warm voice that sent a dribble of desire through Mary, he replied, “For now.”

  Nibbling her lip, Mary accepted Thom’s response at face value. With an armful of towels, she padded barefoot to the bathroom, closed and locked the door. Alone at last. Mary stroked the bathroom door, still feeling Thom’s watchful presence just outside. Quietly, she rested her forehead against the door next to her hand. Part of her wanted to confide in him and yet she couldn’t. Not ever. With determination, she pushed back and turned toward the shower.

  Her own reflection in the mirror over the sink made her jump. She looked like she’d spent a week in the woods. Dirt smudged her normally peachy face but that was insubstantial compared to the squirrel’s nest of hair. Her hair hadn’t been this messed up since that unfortunate home perm incident the night before the senior prom, which subsequently prevented her from going. “Oh, lovely. You look like something the cat hacked up.”