Lethal Affair (39 page)

Tonight, Stacie Hoyle took a turn at
protective duty. Settled in the cruiser with the officer assigned
to partner her, she watched Lyle Morris drop off Jolene Sparta
after her evening shift.

Hoyle wasn't one for small talk and it
didn't help that she was annoyed. She'd been hyped to have an
evening off with her husband, maybe order in, watch a movie.
Instead she had to fill in for an officer who'd called in
sick.

She wished she'd called in sick. But
then she hadn't made Detective by playing the sick card over every
little sniffle either. A hard worker, she was proud of what she'd
achieved and planned on going places. Next step up: Ethan Crane's
job.

By and by the lights went out in the
apartment. It was well after midnight, the witching hour, thought
Hoyle bemusedly.

The rookie officer was close to
nodding off.

“
Run up the street and get
us some coffee,” she ordered.

Grumbling, the rookie got out and
sauntered down the sidewalk. The all night convenience store was
two blocks up; he wouldn't be gone long. Hoyle got out of the
vehicle and stretched her arms and legs to avoid
cramping.

An odd flicker of light played across
the lawn beside the building.

Hoyle made her first mistake by
investigating without advising her partner or the dispatch
operator. Rounding the building she saw nothing in the alley.
Suddenly the garbage cans rattled. Shining her flashlight she
spotted a raccoon darting into the inky night. Laughing, she
relaxed and rolled her shoulders to disperse the tension. It was
her second and last mistake as behind her a knife arced, cutting
off a scream before it left her throat. The one fatal stroke would
have been enough, but the killer's own tension was released into
her flesh as his mind roiled with poisonous pleasure.

The rookie returned balancing two
coffees and sandwiches on a tray. He peered into the cruiser and
wondered where Holye went. It was against protocol to leave the
cruiser unattended without so much as a radio shout-out.

It was a puzzler that came with a
flicker of panic. He tried to raise Hoyle on his radio to no avail.
Placing the tray inside the cruiser, he decided to walk around the
building to check things out, calling in his intentions to
dispatch.

He found her in the rear amongst the
garbage cans, her eyes staring blindly into the dark and rapidly
chilling night.

Drawing his weapon, the rookie spun
around, heart pounding, eyes wildly searching the dark
alley.

The alarm from Kylie Lambert's
apartment went off! Yelling into his shoulder microphone, “Officer
down! Need assistance! I need backup, now!” the rookie took off
around the front of the building and ran up the stairs to the
apartment above.

* * * *

CHAPTER
NINETEEN

Drew had been educating himself. He'd
had huge time slots to burn while his face healed and he'd used
them well. Thanks to his new best friends Google and Youtube; he
could learn about anything he wanted. Alarm systems for one, and
how to disarm them.

Kylie Lambert.

To his mind, his ultimate nemesis.
She'd forced him to hit her in the stomach. Was she still pregnant?
Hard to say, looking at her from a distance. She'd be a few months
along by now. Surely her belly should be bulging a
little.

He considered paying the good doctor
Lydia Barrymore a visit and prying Kylie's current information out
of her. Before he killed her. Or not. He could be forgiving. He
could overlook the fact that the old bitch was promoting single
motherhood on her web site. He'd watched her videos counseling
young mothers on how to take care of a baby on their own. What a
crock. He might have to do her anyway, just because.

Speaking of bitches, he'd
honed in on another, more blood-boiling one. Fat ass Stacie Hoyle,
whose mocking tone and accusing eyes had dared to defile his place
of residence, his couch, the very air that he breathed. Who was she
to question him about stupid things that had nothing to do with
anything?
I can re-bandage it for you; I'm
trained in medical emergencies
. Like he was
going to let her come anywhere near him with her pudgy cop fingers
and her beady-eyed stare.

The web had supplied him with a police
scanner too. It had just been a matter of time before opportunity
had presented itself.

A part of his mind banged on the
closed doors of his conscience. The doors remained tightly shut. He
was a new man now, one who would live, truly live, the way he'd
always wanted to. This new version, 2.0, was so much more fun than
his old, party-pooper self.

Good. Stacie Hoyle's side-kick was
leaving. Probably going for donuts. He snickered to himself at the
time worn joke. His new self appreciated humor, however
cliché.

Emerging from his hiding spot behind
the garbage cans, Drew positioned himself and turned on his
flashlight, playing the light along the grassy path that ran
alongside of the building.

Time to lure out his newest
prey.

Kylie was dreaming.

She walked a forest path. Blood red
roses adorned massive tree trunks while small pine cones crunched
underfoot. She reached into her apron – not Gretel's but instead
Alice In Wonderland's, her subconscious mind realizing the
incongruity – and pulled out bread crumbs, tossing them onto the
path behind her.

A massive web shaped like a dome with
a trap door at the bottom appeared before her. The colorful flowers
muted to gray and curled in on themselves, turning to dust. The web
door slowly opened...

...suddenly she couldn't
breathe!

Gasping for air, she wanted to claw at
her throat but found her arms immobilized. Her eyes popped open.
This was no dream! In the dimness of her room she came fully awake
and tried to take in oxygen, a terrible weight on her
chest.

No! Not possible!

Drew was on top of her, his eyes
gleaming like burning coals in the darkness, his lips a sneer. He
wrestled her wrists together over her chest and tied them with
another of his plastic ties, then pressed his thumb against her
larynx, cutting her air intake in half. In his other hand he held a
knife, a twin of the one the police had found at the
cabin.

“
Hello sweetheart,” he
whispered, staring into her terror stricken eyes. His face was a
twisted mask of scar tissue and angry glee. “I've missed you. Have
you missed me? Never mind, I see the cat's got your tongue. I'll do
the talking.”

With one hand still on her throat, he
pulled up her nightshirt and lowered the knife to her belly, making
swirling motions with the tip against her skin. “Where shall I make
the first cut, hmm? Here?” He poked and she gurgled a whimper. “How
about here?” Another jab, this time enough to break through the
first layers of skin.

Kylie wanted to scream. Even if she
could it would bring Jolene running into the room and she wouldn't
risk it. Would he kill Jolene anyway, after he was done with
her?

Drew was intent upon his mission. “A
little C-section? Get the baby out, while the getting is good? I
must say, my pet, all that running you do pays off. Your belly is
quite flat. Is there even a baby in there at all?”

His sing song voice and glazed eyes
were a testament to his mental state. Had he lost touch altogether
with reality?

“
Don't fret, precious girl.
I'm not going to kill you just yet. You and I are going for a
little night stroll. I'm taking you to a nice secluded spot where
we can take up where we left off. It's going to be so much fun for
both of us. I can be a pretty good date. Isn't that right,
sweetheart? I can show you a good time.”

How the hell had he gotten
in? Her mind was in a frenzy, her own words coming back to slap her
in the face.
Never give up. Find your way
out of a predicament.

And then it came to her.

Using all her strength and surprising
them both she surged up against Drew's body, knocking him to one
side. With her hands tied, she threw her weight onto the bedside
alarm and pushed down hard. It went went off with a shrill, her
screams joining in harmony.

When she twisted around again, Drew
was gone.

*

“
Complacency costs lives,”
said Crane as he pondered the window ledge where Hammond had broken
the glass, making a quick exit down the fire escape.

He looked down at the cluster of
garbage cans where Stacie Hoyle's rookie partner stood vigil until
the medical examiner arrived. The man was clutching his stomach,
trying not to vomit.

“
Hey Calhoun,” Crane shouted
down. “If you're going to lose it, don't do it in my crime
scene!”

Rookie Calhoun waved weakly and sucked
it up, partially turning his back on the victim. As Crane watched,
reinforcements came in and they began to cordon off the area and
set up lights.

He turned back to Kylie and Jolene.
“You didn't hear anything?” he asked Jolene.

“
Just the alarm,” she told
him miserably.

Kylie couldn't stop shaking, her face
ghostly pale. “He was going to take me somewhere to finish what he
started,” she mumbled.

Raised voices sounded from below where
a cop stood guard. Crane's radio erupted with indecipherable
static.

“
Send them all up,” he
instructed.

Will, Lyle, Rita and Joe rushed into
the room.

Searching Kylie's eyes, Will saw angry
fear. “Are you hurt?”

“
Just a nick.” She ran a
hand over her belly. “He doesn't know I've lost the
baby.”

Rita took a blanket from the couch and
wrapped Kylie in it while Joe asked Crane, “How did he get
in?”

“
Overrode the security
system. Didn't know about the bedside alarm though.”

“
If he overrode the system,
how did the bedside alarm work?”

“
It's on an independent
circuit,” Kylie supplied, inwardly thanking Jay Humphrey for the
extra effort he'd gone to.

Joe was spitting mad. “There's a dead
police officer downstairs and my daughter has been through enough
hell to last her a lifetime! What are you people doing about
this?”

Crane bristled but reeled it in. “We
people,” he said succinctly, “don't take lightly any killer, but
one who takes one of our own...” He trailed off, thinking. “Stacie
Hoyle was one of our best, but she made a mistake that got her
killed. I'll be holding a staff meeting in the morning. This won't
be repeated.”

“
Damn straight it won't,”
Will stated angrily. “Why don't you girls pack up whatever you
need? You can't stay here tonight.”

“
Kylie's room is off limits
until forensics are through,” admonished Crane.

“
You can borrow some of my
stuff,” Jolene told Kylie. All three women left the
room.

“
How about I take Kylie off
island?” Will asked Crane.

“
He'd follow you. Keeping
her on the island reduces our perimeters. Hammond's obsessed. He'll
stay close. We have a better chance of closing in on him
here.”

“
Like she's bait? Look what
happened here tonight. If he'd wanted to kill Kylie he could have
done it!”

Crane chose to ignore the hysterics.
“Bring Miss Lambert into my office tomorrow, Mr. Delaney. I'll need
her full statement.”

“
Don't worry, your
bureaucratic needs will be met,” Will spit out. “Tell me Detective,
how much paperwork will Stacie Hoyle's murder involve? Plenty, I'm
sure.”

“
While I don't appreciate
the sarcasm, Mr. Delaney, I understand it. When I'm done here, I
have the unfortunate duty of informing her husband of her death. I
don't think he'll care much about the damn paperwork
either.”

Will nodded, his lips a twisted line
of commiseration as the women reappeared dressed and with bags in
hand.

*

Olivia knelt between rows of green
beans on their trellises and dug into the soft dirt with her
trowel, unearthing errant weeds. The garden was located at the rear
of their property away from the prying eyes of the police officers
parked out front. There was nothing conspicuous about them; good
gossip material for the neighbors no doubt.

The sunlight was milky at best; soon
her garden would stop producing and she would yank out the
withering vines and remaining plants with their final offerings.
Drew had been right, she would donate the vegetables to the soup
kitchen for the homeless at the downtown Cathedral.

Drew was never far from her
mind. Nor from her heart. Lord help her, she still loved him
despite his recent undertakings. Unconditional love wasn't
called
unconditional
for nothing.

Swiping a gloved hand over her brow,
she left a streak of soil behind.