Friends and Lovers (3 page)

Lauren, on the other hand, was shy and quiet. She was a silent observer, perfectly content to be the wallflower to Sarah’s blazing glory. She never envied her sister’s social success. Then Sarah met Will. He was handsome and equally confident. Lauren had watched with growing concern as he singled Sarah out and slowly separated her from her other friends

It wasn’t unusual for Sarah to make more time for a boy when she liked him, but she never neglected her closest friends until Will. She dropped sports, cut back on her hours at the pharmacy, and allowed her grades to slip. Unfortunately, their parents weren’t much help either. Their immediate fear was that Sarah might be pregnant or on drugs, but once reassured, they were content to believe this phase would be short lived. They chose to trust their daughter.

Lauren remembered how Will would phone to check up on Sarah when they weren’t together. If she was out, he wanted Lauren to tell him where Sarah was, what she was doing, who she was with, and when she’d be back. His invasive questions rattled Lauren. She didn’t trust him, didn’t like him. He was outwardly sweet to Sarah, but she was crying more in private, crumbling in ways Lauren didn’t understand.

Lauren understood it all now. Will was methodically chipping away at Sarah’s self-confidence, making her distrust herself, her instincts, and crave his dwindling approval more and more.

Lauren never cried at weddings, but she’d cried through Sarah’s. She watched her sister pledge her love to Will with a sinking heart and a pessimism she couldn’t banish.

Sarah and her son were gone now, dead nearly four years, and Will’s parole hearing was coming up. Lauren could hardly stand it. He would get his life back, probably move on to another unsuspecting woman, while her sister and nephew were ashes under the apple tree in her parents’ yard.

Lauren needed to do more, because Sarah did everything she should have to protect herself and her child. She filed restraining orders, changed the locks, and kept everyone informed about her movements, and still he found a way to get to her by breaking into the house one night and brutally raping Sarah then choking the life out of her. Even more shocking was the discovery that Will did all this while their son’s body lay cooling in his bed, his innocent, perfect face covered by his favorite pillow.

Will had been out on bail at the time, and he shouldn’t have been. While abusive men were a constant threat, they could be particularly dangerous in the interim between arrest and trial. Yet the system was slow to respond. Laws weren’t changed, bails remained too low to hold them until their court dates, and lives were irreparably changed forever.

Shaken by her trip down memory lane, Lauren went to check the locks on her front door a third time before heading to bed. The only way she could sleep nowadays was with sound playing in the background. White noise was fine. She preferred the wind or surf. Tonight, she chose surf.

Slipping between the sheets, she turned off the lamp then hunkered down until only her forehead showed above the covers. She knew it was crazy but she needed to be overlooked in her bed by whoever might break in. That’s why she never moved, never changed position during the night. If she could make herself invisible, she would. She didn’t know what a peaceful night’s sleep was anymore.

* * * *

Seven forty-two in the morning and Wes and Chuck stood staring at a damaged privacy fence with the red-faced homeowner cursing his head off beside them. No question the man had gotten a nasty shock when he’d gone out to his stoop to pick up his newspaper thirty minutes earlier.

Wes bent and retrieved the battered license plate lying in the grass. “Nice of him to leave his calling card.” He straightened and faced the angry man. “We’ll follow up on this. You’ll be hearing from us.”

“I certainly hope so,” the man blustered, trailing them to their car.

Chuck slipped behind the steering wheel while Wes called in the plate. As soon as they had the address they went hunting.

The car was easy to spot. The idiot didn’t hide it.

Getting out of their unmarked car, they walked around to the front of the suspect’s car, noting the damaged grill and bumper. The right headlight and turn signal were completely gone. The floor inside the vehicle was littered with empty beer cans, both front and back. Evidently, this was not the guy’s first offense.

Wes shook his head and walked to the front door with Chuck right on his heels. Wes rang the bell first but when nothing happened he pounded on the door. It took several minutes before a bleary-eyed man opened it to them. He was quite a sight in his saggy boxers, heavy stubble, and funky bed hair. He tried to focus on them while he scratched his furry belly but his red eyes didn’t look cooperative. The guy pushed open the screen door and poked his head out. His breath was noxious enough to drop an elephant, and Wes had to force himself not to take a step back.

“Yeah?” the man asked stupidly.

“Mr. Sullivan, can we come in?”

* * * *

An hour later Wes and Chuck left the station. Wes clipped his cuffs back onto his belt and headed over to the driver’s side.

“Now what?” he asked across the roof.

Chuck gave it some thought. “I know it’s early but I could eat. Vickie’s grapefruit diet is killing me. I need a big juicy burger, and if you sell me out to my wife I’ll have to kill you.”

Wes laughed. “Noted. A hamburger sounds good.”

“But let’s walk over. It’ll give the car more time to air out. Goddamned fumes were making my eyes burn.”

Wes stepped back with his hands up, key ring bouncing against his palm, and grinned. “Now you’re talking. You sure you can handle a Broiler burger? Maybe we should find you a bib?”

Chuck snorted. “The wife will never know if I roll up my sleeves. Hell, I’ll open my shirt if I have to.”

“My day’s getting better and better,” said Wes dryly.

They cut across the parking lot, hopped a couple of curbs, and after a brief wait at the crosswalk, finally placed their orders at the window. The enticing smell of caramelized onion, sizzling beef, and crispy fries hung in the air. Wes’s mouth was already watering when he picked up his tray and they claimed an empty picnic table.

Wes bit into his burger, then tugged a napkin out of the dispenser on the table, stopping a drip before it reached his watch. He glanced up at his partner and snickered at all the napkins strategically poking out between his buttons. At least the guy was still dressed.

“So, you start teaching tonight?” Chuck asked, munching a fry.

“Right.” Wes shook his head. “It’s weird how some things just seem to work out, like me dropping by the gym and finding out they were already looking for someone to take the class.” He took another bite, mulling it over as he chewed. Swallowing, he reached for his glass, using the straw as a pointer. “You should come too.”

Chuck screwed up his face in distaste. “No way. Unlike you, I
have
a woman who would miss me if I didn’t come home right away.”

“Rub it in.”

“Every chance I get.” He popped a pickle into his mouth. “You really should give that woman at the shelter a call. It’s pretty obvious she floated your boat. What’s her name again?” He thought about it for a second and snapped his fingers. “Lauren.”

Wes set his burger down and blotted the corner of his mouth as it curled up. “Way ahead of you, big guy.”

“Good. There was something happening there, no denying it.”

Wes reached for his soda. “Is that right?”

“Most definitely.”

Wes grinned and slipped his straw between his lips, allowing that comment to be the last thing said on the subject.

Chapter 3

Lauren’s afternoon meeting at the United Way stretched into three hours, so by the time she got back to Gloria Fields there was little time left for anything but returning a few phone calls. If she hustled she could just make her evening aerobics class, but having missed the last two, she didn’t exactly feel inspired to race to this one. Lauren decided to skip it and just go home.

Of course she was driving up Lester Parkway when she realized she’d completely forgotten to give Bob a heads up on Wes. She pulled into the parking lot across the street from the gym and ran inside to the office. Bob was just hanging up the phone when Lauren knocked on the jamb. He waved her in.

“Ms. McKay. What brings you our way?” he asked, his coarse gray whiskers giving him a grungy look.

“Hi, Bob. I thought I’d drop by and see how the self-defense classes are going and tell you I might have another instructor for you. I meant to call you days ago but I haven’t had a chance.”

“You talking about Wes?” He nodded at the window overlooking the small gym.

“Yes,” Lauren said slowly, approaching the glass.

* * * *

Wes beckoned to a woman standing at the edge of the mat with her coworkers. “Joyce, would you come up and help with this next demonstration?”

The woman in gray sweats took off her glasses and handed them to a friend before walking over to him.

“Situation,” Wes began, directing his comments to the entire class. “You’re walking to your car in a parking lot. What should you do first?”

A chorus of women’s voices said, “Scan the area.”

“And?”

“Look in and under the cars.”

“Why under the cars?”

“Because it’s easy to pull a woman off her feet by the ankles.” Their voices almost sounded like a chant, but he was happy to hear they were paying attention.

He turned to Joyce. “Where are your keys?”

“In my hand, ready to go.”

“Are you done yet?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I still need to look inside my car before I get into it.”

He nodded, giving all of them a satisfied smile. “Very good. Now, I’m the bad guy and I’m going to take advantage of the fact that you’re distracted and your back is to me. When I grab you like this, what are you going to do?”

She gave an involuntary yelp when Wes came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her chest, locking her arms down so she couldn’t fight back, or so it would seem.

“I’ve got you, Joyce. What are you going to do about it? Think fast, otherwise I could throw you into your car and take your keys.” Wes could see he’d shaken her. Now he had to lead her back to a rational response. “Think, Joyce. You aren’t powerless. Did you drop your keys?”

“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “No.”

“What can you do to me with them?”

“Stab you?”

“Go for my hands, my arms if you can. If you can’t manage that, stab into my leg, go for my groin, anything you can reach. Be merciless. What else can you do?”

“I can kick.”

“Go ahead.”

She gave his padded shin a weak kick and he frowned.

“Don’t hold back. You’re not going to hurt me. Fight, go for my weak spots. Kick me in the knee.”

Her next feeble kicked pissed the hell out of him.

“Come on!” he shouted at her. “Kick me like you mean it, like your life depends on it. It just might!” He needed to psych her up.

Joyce slammed her soft rubber sole into his protected knee and he set her down.

“Better. Your kick just bought you enough time to get away.” Wes addressed the entire class next. “What else could she have done?”

“Stomped your instep.”

Wes nodded. “Good. What else?”

“Punched you in the groin,” another voice answered, and there were uncomfortable titters and giggles but he smiled.

“Ladies, don’t underestimate a good wallop to the nuts. At the very least he’s going to relax his grip enough to let you squirm free. Best case scenario he’ll be down on the ground in a ball, gasping for air and unable to chase you. So go for it. Don’t be shy or reserved. This is not the time for social niceties.” He turned and patted Joyce on the shoulder. “Good job.”

The poor woman looked tremendously grateful to be excused.

Wes looked over all the faces and raised his eyebrows. “Who wants to help me demonstrate a frontal assault?”

* * * *

Lauren stared in horror as Wes was pummeled by an old woman. Sure, he was wearing full protective pads but still, that little spitfire was beaming like a maniac with every blow she landed on him.

Lauren cringed. “My God, she’s trying to kill him!”

Bob chuckled. “He’s insane, likes to rile them up.” There was approval in his voice.

Lauren glanced over with a frown. “But why would he do that?”

“To prepare them. It’s one thing to know what you’re supposed to do when you feel safe. It’s completely different when emotion gets in the way. They have to know how to handle it. The last thing you want them to do is freeze up.”

They both winced when Wes took a solid kick to the groin. It was incredible that he managed to stay on his feet, even with the pads. Bob was shaking with silent laughter when Wes pointed the woman off the mat.

Lauren took that opportunity to slip away while Wes dismissed the class.

* * * *

Ten minutes after class ended Wes wandered out of the gym with his huge, black duffel of equipment slung over his shoulder. He was limping a bit. He shook his head and chuckled ruefully. Leave it to the sweetest little woman to get in the best shots. He’d never underestimate Lois again.

Still, Wes loved teaching self-defense. It gave him a satisfaction entirely different from police work, though he considered the two related. He liked to call it his ounce-of-prevention approach. There was nothing more satisfying than taking a big chunk out of the potential victim pool, and if even one perp had to suffer a little retaliation they might just reconsider targeting other easier marks later on. Let them take on ninety pound Lois in her baby blue sweat suit and matching hair. Wes laughed softly, imagining how some goon would pay dearly for that fuck up.

“Wes?”

He swung around and saw Lauren walking toward him. “Hey!” he said cheerfully. Smiling, he tossed his bag into his trunk. “What are you doing here?”

“I dropped by to tell Bob you might be calling, but you were already here.”

He closed the lid and laughed. “I know, he reeled me right in.”