Protective Instincts (5 page)

She could feel Sam's concern when Sean left the room but he didn't leave her. For now, she needed his support.

After several swallows of water she continued. "Poor Sean," she whispered, then tried to continue, "He slapped me and .... " Brit swallowed convulsively and turned her face against Sam. If she could just burrow in and hide!

"Ms. Roberts, please describe your assailant? Distinguishing features?" Officer Smythe was business-like but kind.

"He's over six feet. Blond hair, icy blue eyes." Brit shuddered. "He is m-muscular, has a strong drawl."

"Had you ever seen him before, maybe hanging around here?"

"No, Officer, he did mention he'd changed my order for flowers and a takeout meal last night."

Officer Smythe looked puzzled. Had she explained about last night? She did well to remember what she had to tell him about what she had just experienced. Her eyes hurt with unshed tears. She took in a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying for calm.

"B-b-bastard has seen my tub, my robe, God knows w-what else."

* * * *

Sam broke into the questioning, his voice impatient. "Officers, I can tell you about the attacker's invasion of her privacy and telephone harassment and his obscene phone call last night."

Their puzzled expressions said they hadn't learned of last night's incident.

"We reported the incident then but she had no police protection from the bastard. I'll also tell you what I saw when I arrived, but this injured woman really must have medical attention!" He had to be reasonable but he seethed inside. Brit had called for help but none arrived.

Blood had dried on her lips where she'd been hit. Scrapes and fresh bruises marred her cheeks. Sam opened and closed his fists at his sides. The urge to slam his fists into something made his hands ache.

Sam turned to the woman paramedic.

The tall paramedic, who seemed to be in charge, turned toward the policemen and nodded. The other paramedic, who returned with a white-faced Sean, signaled his partner.

The other man moved toward Brit on the gurney.

Sam waved the man away. He placed his arms under her arms and knees, ignoring the gurney and the hands extended to help. Sam carried his precious bundle from the room down to the ambulance.

Sam put Brit on the gurney in the ambulance before turning to look out the door. Sean looked up at his dad with a timid smile. "I can drive your truck to the hospital. You should ride with Ms. Roberts. She probably needs a familiar face and a hand to hold."

Sam pitched his keys to his son. "Damn, that's one great kid," Sam said to the young EMT cleaning the blood from Brit's lip. He turned to the woman who would need someone she knew to hold her and let her cry or even give in to hysteria, if she needed to.

* * * *

Well, shit! Douglas Drake never failed. Shit! Shit! Shit!
He'd had his hands on the damned teacher. He'd been hard, ready to stick it to her.

This time had been different. Something had taken control of the calm, cool killer. He'd become the rapist he'd planned to make people think was responsible. He'd enjoyed the attack too much to kill her quickly. He had taken too long and been caught before he finished his job. He'd been seen with little to disguise him. Fortunately, there would be no mug shots and no way to match his prints, if there were any.

Damn! It would've been over if the man and the boy hadn't shown-up. The days of watching the woman had gone to waste.

He'd set the scene so carefully with the food and the flowers last night. The teacher had been scared, the way he liked his victims. He liked the taste and scent of fear. Just listening to her reaction to the hang-up calls was enough to get him hot. With the hearing devices he'd planted in her house, he'd listened to her report to the police last night. He'd scared her good when he'd let her know he'd been inside her house.

In the weeks he watched the woman, he'd never seen the man with her.
Who the Hell is he?
There had been the kid, too.
Now I'll have to wait 'til things die down to get at her again
.

He hated complications. He'd watched the ambulance arrive. Now it was leaving. He hadn't hurt her enough for an ambulance. The hero of the day was riding with her. How sweet.

The cops should be leaving. He'd never come so close to being caught before. He really needed to sneak in and wipe the light switch. Shit! He had failed to follow his plan and execute his victim on the first try. It would never happen again. He'd just wait to get her alone again and finish the job. This time he'd do it right.

CHAPTER FOUR

It was only ten o'clock in the evening but it seemed much later, like a whole day had passed since ….

During the past three torturous hours, Brit had wondered if she could answer even one more question about worst and second worst experiences since she'd lost her husband.

The doctors examining her had been gentle, considerate. She'd still been mortified. Photographs recorded bruises now darkening on the fair skin on her wrists, groin, and her face. Studying her reflection in the mirror in a dressing room, Brit noticed the beginning signs of a black eye. She looked down at the borrowed scrubs, well laundered, soft against her skin. At least she didn't have to sit around in an open-backed hospital gown.

Her clothes were in a plastic bag to be searched for hair samples and would be held as evidence when they caught and tried the man. She had to hold onto her control until she could get home. Tears had threatened to overwhelm her as she tried to fill in the blanks left from her interview with the investigating officers. They'd cleaned under her nails for skin or blood samples.

A rotund man showed her pictures of facial features as she tried to help him create a likeness of the maniac who had violated two places she considered safe and hers. She'd been unable to.

How would she tell her parents about last night's events? Worse, how could she tell them of the horror of this afternoon? She didn't want to upset them tonight, but she could hardly keep the enormity of her fear and revulsion to herself. She'd need their help to get past everything. And her attacker was still loose.

She'd call her parents in the morning, after some rest and time to distance herself enough to tell the story without bursting into tears. They'd imagine things worse than what had actually happened. Things could have been so much worse. She could have become a statistic. Why would anyone want to hurt her?

If only Julie were here. Sam and Sean had been wonderful, but there were things only a woman could understand. A choking sound alerted Brit to look past her pitiful reflection to the startled reflection of Julie. Had she conjured up her friend?

"Brit? Oh my God, Brit, honey." Julie's voice quavered. "What did the bastard do to you?"

Though Julie's hand covered her mouth, her horror was evident in her eyes. Biting her lip to delay her tears, Brit whirled around to move into Julie's comforting embrace. She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't.

"I'm alright, now," Brit assured, stepping back from her friend's support. Her attempts at a smile failed miserably. "Thanks to Sam, Sean's Dad. He and Sean were w-w-wonderful. I … don't know what I would've d-d-done if Sam hadn't c-come in when he did." Her voice faded as she swallowed past the lump in her throat.

"Hon, I couldn't believe it when Mr. Samuels called to say you were in the hospital. He said you'd been attacked and to hurry – like I wouldn't have rushed here. How did he know to call my number?"

"I'm glad he did. Sean must've told him we're friends. We do hang out together at school. You're in the phonebook, like I am."

Julie brushed Brit's hair behind her ears as she had many times before. If Brit could have chosen a sister, she'd have chosen Julie.

"Have you called your folks?"

"No, I'll call tomorrow morning, after I've rested. You know I'd break d-down if I tried to tell them what that m-monster did." Brit shook her head. "They'd assume the worst and rush here. Daddy was scheduled for a full day of surgery today and tomorrow. It wouldn't be good for either of them."

"So, pal, when do you escape this place?" Julie put her arm around Brit's shoulders.

"Soon," The young doctor who had examined Brit stepped into the room.

She jumped at the deep voice but relaxed when she saw his kind, youthful face.

"The police want to make sure the photos we took of your injuries are good enough. I'll be back with something to help you sleep for the next couple of nights."

"Thanks, but I don't take sleeping pills." Brit spoke to the retreating back of young Dr. Blake.

"Take 'em anyway, girl. You might need 'em after all that has happened." Julie patted Brit's hand. "I'll take you to my place. You can sleep in the guestroom I just redecorated after I got rid of that no good Bill. My nightgowns will fit you."

"No," Brit said too quickly. "I have to go home, to my own house! I won't run." She took Julie's hands, squeezing a little too hard. "I've taken care of myself since I stopped hiding from life in my parents' home. I bought that house, took a job, and built a new life. I can't let a monster chase me from my home, I just can't."

"Shush, honey." Julie hugged Brit. "It's okay, I'll stay at your house with you."

"But I can't ask you to do that."

"You don't need to ask. I'm coming home with you. I'll stay as long as you need me. We'll face this together." Julie rubbed her friend's back, comforting her.

Brit pulled away, sniffing. She took the package of tissues Julie had found on a table. "Thanks."

The good doctor didn't make it from the room. He stopped and turned back to the ladies.

"Mr. Samuels has been pestering me to let him in here to talk to you, Ms. Roberts. He's been pacing like an expectant father."

"Tell Sam I'm decent. He and Sean may come in, if they wish, but this room isn't really party size.

"Did I hear you call Mr. Samuels Sam? On a first name basis, are you? You and I are in for a long talk."

Brit started again at the sound of another deep voice, one she recognized quickly as belonging to her rescuer and new hero.

"We've seen too much of each other in the past twenty-four hours to stand on ceremony, haven't we, Teach?"

"What?" Julie and Sean chorused.

"Tell you later," Sam and Brit answered in unison, then stared at each other, startled.

Sam wore his wire-rimmed glasses and held a rumpled newspaper. The neon bandage strip above his lip could not diminish his blatant look of strength. With his torn shirt and bruised chin, he was a welcome sight.

* * * *

Brit winced as she eased down into Julie's white Thunderbird. The digital clock on the dash read twelve o'clock. Sam squatted beside the open doorway so she could look into his eyes. "I wish you'd go home with Ms. Devereaux." Sam's voice was gentle, concerned.

"Call me Julie, please. I tried to talk some sense into her," Julie rolled her eyes. "She's too stubborn for her own good."

"I need to go home," Brit insisted. She needed to feel as though things were almost normal. She wouldn't be run from her own house. Dammit all, she wouldn't! She'd lost a husband and now her sense of security in her safe places, but she wouldn't give up her independence.

"It's alright." Sam patted her hand in her lap. "I don't have any right to tell you what to do. I'll take Sean to my parents' house to spend the night and I'll be at your place as soon as I can."

"No need, Julie will spend the night with me."

"I'll be there." Sam rubbed his neck. "The pains in my gut are acting up again, nothing would keep me away."

"He's having gut pains?" Julie asked. "Why is he sharing this personal information?"

"Don't ask; just take me home so I can have a long, hot, relaxing soak, please."

* * * *

Douglas watched the teacher get into the T-bird with her blonde friend. They were always together. The hero and the boy showed up everywhere. Too bad, he couldn't off 'em tonight. One kill per job and one per town. He'd never killed for free before.

* * * *

Brit's head was fuzzy from the light sedative she had been persuaded to take. Julie's car was so quiet Brit could hear herself think. She'd rather not think. She couldn't ignore the police car following them since she had insisted on going home.

Two police officers examined doors, locks, rooms, closets, and the grounds around Brit's house. Julie even checked under beds before they could relax. Trust her to do anything she thought might help.

Sometime around two AM, Brit had time to relax.

Julie had run hot water with lavender and chamomile oils in the guest bathroom for Brit.

She took a sedative, as if she could sleep after everything that had happened. Soothing hot water and bath oils soaked away the aches in her muscles. The sedation fuzzed away some of the terror, dulling horrific memories. Domestic sounds and quiet conversation in the house assured Brit her friend was changing sheets on beds and washing them. Had her assailant handled them?

What had he touched when he checked out her bathroom, her robe? The doorbell chime roused her from her steamy stupor. Hearing Sam's deep voice so near was reassuring. He and Julie spoke in quiet tones, like they were afraid they'd wake her.

She heard something about Sam's being glad there had been no ambulance chasing reporters at the hospital. She'd had her fill of nosey reporters after Tommy's death.

Julie cracked the bathroom door enough to pass a fluffy robe, Tommy's big robe, into Brit's hands.
She warmed it in the dryer. How sweet, how like Julie to know what I needed.

Brit floated through her bedroom toward the hall. She'd say good night and send Sam back home. She and Julie would be just fine. Sam, kind, considerate ....

"Thanks for coming over, Sam, but .... " Whatever she'd intended was lost as she stared into his eyes. "Lost that thought. Must be the drugs." Or because she breathed in his comforting Old Spice that robbed her of thought? "Well, night, Julie," she said, "You, too, Sam." She turned on her heel and found her way to her bed, barely.

* * * *

Sam wondered when Sean's teacher had wormed her way past his defenses. He'd seen this woman neatly dressed and all business. He'd seen her mussed from sleep, he'd seen her roughed up and vulnerable. He'd wanted to protect her, to beat the Hell out of her attacker. He couldn't afford to dwell on the rage that had gripped him when he'd seen her on the floor, fighting for her life.

Teach wasn't the cold woman he'd overheard guys suggest she must be. Though she was the newest woman in town, none of them had even persuaded her to go out for coffee or drinks. She didn't date, they'd said. No one had seen her out with any man. Ms. Devereaux seemed to be her only friend in town.

Sam's gut was acting up something awful, danger still lurked somewhere near. The gun he'd picked up at home would stay within reach, in case he needed it. Did she have a weapon? Did she know how to use one? He could teach her. She'd sign up for a class in self-defense. He'd see to it. He'd stay tonight.

Julie had been shocked when he told her about what he and Sean had found in Brit's classroom. He sat on her sofa and brooded until Julie went to a spare bedroom.

When Sam was sure Julie slept, he crept into Brit's bedroom where he sat next to her bed, watching her sleep. When moans or thrashing about told him she was reliving a painful memory, he lay on the bed on top of the covers beside her and talked until she quieted. That had always worked for his sister, Esther, when she'd had nightmares as a kid and hadn't wanted to call their parents.

He'd comforted Sean the same way on many occasions, especially after the divorce from his mother.

Something about this woman made him want to slay dragons for her. His latest attempt hadn't gone so damned well. How would he feel about her once she was safe? He'd wait and see. He had no choice.

Sometimes he dozed, but he made himself leave the warm bed. He'd only meant to comfort Brit but, well … he got some much-needed sleep.

* * * *

Brit ran from a monster. She felt breath hot on her neck, smelled her fear as he gained on her. Her heart pounded so hard it made her chest hurt. She couldn't get enough air. She ran until she feared she could run no more. Her feet dragged like she ran in deep sand. Without turning back, she still saw his horrible face. A clawed hand griped her shoulder. She screamed. Sam, the knight, in armor shining brightly, rode in on his white steed to save her.

"It's all right, Teach." She heard Sam's gentle voice. "Just sleep." He chased the monster away, then lay beside her and held her. This was some dream. The warmth of his big body soothed hers. She felt herself drift into peaceful sleep.

Brit heard a scream. Someone was terrified. Who? She was afraid to wake up but she had to. How else could she erase the threatening face, the vile, degrading things the horrible man uttered? She had to wake from the nightmare before it was too late.

Her eyes finally opened. Sam held her in his comforting arms. He was really good at this. He should have a wife and daughters.

"It's okay, Teach, it's okay." His warm, callused hands rubbed her back and arms. "You're safe, now. You were having a bad dream. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Her trembling subsided. Her breathing calmed.

Julie stumbled, bleary eyed but concerned, into the bedroom. Through a yawn she asked, "You alright, hon? I heard you crying." She raised her brow and smirked. "Hi Sam. Looks like you beat me to the rescue. I'll leave you to your nightmare chasing in a minute."

Sam stood and stretched.

Julie offered medication and water.

Brit took it and tried to clear her mind. The fog remained. "Can't remember." Her throat was raw.

"You can remember later. Rest now. Sam, our man, will stay with you for a while," Julie patted the hand of her best friend. "I'm in the spare room." She smoothed the soft brown hair from Brit's forehead, pushing it behind her ears.

Brit drifted in and out of sleep
. Who made the warm body go? Sam? Felt like Sam. Smelled like Sam, or kind of like her daddy, but not. Hurts to think. Strange dream. I liked the ones with Sam holding me, whispering kind words. Nice. What can't I remember?

* * * *

Julie didn't sleep well. By morning, Brit had awakened several times. Around six thirty Julie called Brit's parents.

"Hi, dad Simpson." Julie paced. "Could you put Ms. Ellen on the other phone so I won't have to explain twice?"

"Sure, Julie, girl."

When he called his wife, Julie thought she heard a slight crack in his deep voice.

"Get the other phone, Mother, so we can both listen to Julie."