Smolder (13 page)

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Authors: Graylin Fox

BOOK: Smolder
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Chapter Twelve

 

I got up on Saturday morning to find Josh already gone. I changed into my bikini. The cooler was in the garage, so I pulled it inside and filled it. If I was going to be lazy, that would include not getting up for food or drinks. There was a small hot tub next to the pool, and I put it on high while I swam some laps and did water aerobics. I hated working out, but if I could fool my mind into pretending it was swimming, or self-defense practice, it helped.

Steam came off the hot tub by the time I got in it. I turned on the jets and let myself fade away. Two hours later, I woke up relaxed and shriveled. The steam fogged up the glass pool enclosure around the hot tub. I turned the heat down, and when I looked at the glass, I started to shake in fear. Words were scrawled into the steam.

“Don't testify against Travis or else.”

And the capital 'E' written underneath it matched the carving on the inmate from the hospital.

As I got out of the tub and went to my phone, I realized the writer had to be on the
inside
of the pool area to write that. My fingers shook as I dialed Owen's phone number. He didn't answer, so I hung up and decided to call the lady cop's number. Her card was stuck to the refrigerator but I found myself afraid to walk inside my house. What if the person who wrote this waited behind the door?

I dialed 911. “This is Dr. Ellie Quinn. Someone broke into my home and left a threatening message in the steam over the hot tub
while I was in it.

The officer on the other end calmed and reassured me. She asked if I had a smart phone, and then asked me to take a picture of the message before the window cleared up. It took me three times to get a picture that was clear. She stayed on the phone with me until the police arrived. I let her know the person may still be in the house, and she passed that information to whoever was on the way.

The lady cop, Officer West, arrived first. She stepped out from the kitchen, through the sliding doors I had left open.

“How did you get in?” I asked her.

“The front door was open. We saw someone run down the street as we turned the corner. It appears they left in a hurry,” she said matter of factly.

“So when I woke up?” I asked.

“He or she was still here with you, and likely moved quietly to the front door to leave. It's okay, Dr. Quinn. If Travis wanted you dead, you would be,” she assured me.

That doesn't really help me. But thanks...

“So he just wants to play with me. I hate this,” I said.

I wrapped my towel around me. The entire investigation took an hour. The police turned the hot tub back on so they could see the writing clearly. Even thought they found a good fingerprint. I know that was supposed to reassure me, but I was being harassed by a serial killer from solitary confinement. I worried about how many assistants he had, and if any one of them would kill me the next time no matter what he said.

They wrapped up, and Officer West joined me at the table. I put my shaking hands in my lap.

“Are you planning on testifying?” she asked.

“I didn't know I had to. The inmate at the hospital could identify the man who attempted to kill him, and you guys have evidence from the other crimes. Right?” I didn't like where this conversation was headed.

“Travis's cell mate was killed two days ago. He had been back in jail less than a day before someone slit his throat.”

“Shit.” His wife would need serious levels of assistance. Apparently, he couldn’t stay sick enough to remain in the hospital.

“That's close to what the chief said,” she stated.

I didn't know what else to say, so I sat stunned and was only vaguely aware when she got up to leave.

“Dr. Quinn, I know this isn't the time. But your brother lives here now?” she asked.

“It's okay, Officer West. It might be a good idea to move fast with this going on. You never know...” I trailed off for a moment and thought of Dmitri. “Yes, he lives here now. I don't know where he is at the moment, but I'll let him know you asked about him.”

She thanked me and left. I followed her, and made sure the front door was dead-bolted before she got into her car.

More locks couldn't hurt.

This time, I pulled the blinds over the bathroom window while I showered. There was a muffled pounding sound at the front of the house when I emerged from the bathroom. My knives were in the bedside drawer. I grabbed my discarded clothes from last night and got dressed in a crouched position. The back wall of my bedroom was sliding glass doors to the backyard, and the curtains were open. With knives in both hands, I crawled down the hallway. It bisected the home and ran from the kitchen to my bedroom at the back to the front door. The door buckled as it was hit from outside. I crept the two yards from my door to Josh's door, and hid in the doorway. I could hear someone yell and hit the door over and over. My cell phone rang. It was still on the back patio and I had it on the loudest setting.

Oh God, don't let him hear it.

There was a break in the noise. I held my breath and hoped he wouldn't head to the backyard. The doors from the patio to the kitchen were unlocked. I heard nothing for five minutes, and then glass shattered out back. Someone broke into the pool area. I could see the doorway to the kitchen and the shadow it cast across the hall. I waited.

The shadow of someone's head moved through the doorway. That put them on this side of the kitchen. I adjusted my stance so I could throw both knives and head for the front door. My heart pounded. No amount of knife-throwing training or karate in a studio prepared me for this. I hoped my aim was good when I shook.

A hand crept along the baseboard of the hall by the doorjamb. I didn't hesitate, and threw a knife. It sliced across the top of his fingers and slid into the kitchen. He yanked his hand back. All I could think was that now we had DNA for the police. I'd watched too many crime shows on TV.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

I thought I recognized the voice.

“I've got another knife here, and four more hidden around. Get out of my house!”

I shuffled along the hallway to the kitchen door, close the ground. His boot landed in front of my face. I pulled back to stab him in the leg, and he grabbed my arm and twisted it. I had my back to him as he pulled me to my feet. I still had the knife in my left hand, but couldn't move it without cutting myself.

“Remind me to call first,” Owen said behind me.

He let go, and I spun around and punched him in the jaw.

“What the hell are you doing?” Furious, I held onto my remaining knife and kept it between us. “This house was already invaded today, Owen. It's a bad time to make smartass remarks.”

“I know about this morning. I came by to see how you were, and the door was bolted shut,” he explained.

“And kicking it down was your first response?”

“You could have been in danger,” he defended himself.

“I'm in more danger from you today than the kid who wrote on the wall.” I retrieved the other knife from the floor and washed it in the sink.

He rinsed his hand in the sink and walked onto the back patio. “Where is the writing?”

I joined him. “In shattered pieces on the ground. I hope you know
you
are fishing the glass out of the hot tub and pool. And you will pay to have that wall replaced.”

The hole was three or four yards wide, and rose to the level of the roof. The panel he broke met up with the house on this side. I had an idea.

“It would be a better idea to replace it with a non-see-through material. Maybe match the wall of the house,” I suggested.

“Ellie!” Josh was home.

“Out back, Josh. Owen busted our front door and took out a glass wall.”

My brother, dressed in a suit, walked onto the patio and headed straight for Owen. He stopped within inches of the smaller man and stared at him. Words weren't necessary; Owen got the message and left.

“We can't protect an open hole.” Josh walked through the broken glass and looked toward the front of the house. “But the wall is still there, and so are the security cameras.”

“The security cameras!” I had forgotten the security company gave us access to the recordings. I ran inside to watch the replay of the break-in earlier.

I filled Josh in while I played and replayed the recording that matched the time I was in the hot tub. There was nothing on there. Not even on the front of the house view where he had to come from. Not one moment of the guy in black.

Officer West called Josh and said Owen showed up at the police station to report the damage he caused. Josh told her about the intruder missing on the security recording, and she said they knew that already and the installation company would check into it.

“I either have to update my will or learn to fight better," I said.

“Another place to live would have been my first choice,” he said and walked outside again.

I followed. “The serial killer is in jail. We don't know how this person got our address, and frankly, I'm not going to feel safe anywhere for a while. At least here, we have great security, and today, I'm getting new locks and a stronger front door. Besides, I signed this lease for a year, and I have to repair everything anyway.”

“So why not increase the safety while we are at it?” Josh finished for me.

After showering, we got in the car and ran to the local builders’ store. We found a new door, a set of tools, and an alarm system. The salesman assured me these would be easy to install and would sound anytime a door or window opened. We thanked him for their help, paid for our things, and left.

We'd missed lunch in the midst of the chaos, so we drove through a hamburger place on the way home.

Owen's car was in the driveway, but he wasn't in it. The front door was still in tatters, but the deadbolt remained locked. We entered through the garage, and when we got to the kitchen, we knew where he was. Stooped over the hot tub with a kid’s fishing net, Owen tried to get the glass.

“Oh, now that's funny,” Josh said. “Can I go make fun of him?”

“Of course you can.” I was tempted to join him. “You don't have to treat him like a potential suitor anymore. Breaking into our house today gave me a personal view of his anger, and I don't want to see that again.” I’d already dismissed him, but any lingering attraction died at the end of my knife.

“Then, I can tease him and dunk him.” He headed off to cause havoc.

I needed to do something constructive. And now we had a ready-made project. I removed the front door, cleaned the area up, and with a hand from Josh to hold it, I installed the new one. The alarms were installed on every door and window in minutes. Working with tools made me happy. I loved to build things. Anytime I bought furniture, I put it together myself.

“Ellie, we need to talk,” Josh said after we put everything away.

We sat at the kitchen table where we could see Owen hard at work.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I quit wrestling.” He looked happy.

“Without a final hurrah match?” I said. He loved the crowds and the pageantry of big matches.

“They offered me a last stand match in Atlanta next weekend. I'll go out with a win.”

“I'll be there," I said. “I was there for your first match, and I'll be ringside for your last.”

Owen completed his work and came over to us.

“I think I got it all. Please let me come back tomorrow and make sure.” He sat down between us. “Did I miss anything?”

“During your ‘roid rage?" Josh asked.

Owen fumed, and I saw him purse his lips. “I thought someone was in here with Ellie.”

The bill from the builder store lay on the table. Josh pushed it over to Owen. “This is yours. From now on, you call us if you are coming over, no showing up without warning. Ellie and I have the only keys to the doors and codes to the alarms. Clear?”

“Clear,” Owen said. He got up from the chair and walked to the front door. “Is the alarm set now?”

I got up and went to the door. “It's clear.”

He left, and I set the alarm. “That was awkward.”

Josh started to apologize, but I held up my hand to stop him. “No need. He means well, and I don't doubt he thought I was in trouble. But his methods are a little rough for me. My gut says I should take more time to get know him before I make a final judgment. There’s a story there.”

“Your gut is right ninety percent of the time,” Josh said. “Promise me if something else happens, we can move,” he said.

“I promise,” I said.

“I could use a mental health day, what's left of it,” I said.

“Let's be tourists for the day,” Josh said. “We can walk down River Street, eat dinner while we are there. I heard they have an amazing candy shop.”

“You have a match coming up.”

He handed me my purse. “With the excitement around here, I've lost weight over the past two weeks, and you look a little thin to me. We need caramel apples the size of your head.”

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