Taylor's End, page 14
Chapter Eleven
Nick Bremner pulled into his driveway well after nine that night, just as Mrs. Walsh had sagely predicted. He put the car in park, pulled on the handbrake, and killed the engine. He remained in the car, listening to the ticking of the engine as it cooled. What a truly awful day it had been. Watching the savaged body of Todd Vincent loaded into a van and taken to the morgue was one of the most heartbreaking things he had ever witnessed.
The boy’s mother was taken to the hospital. It was a precautionary measure because of her state and so she didn’t have to watch the body being taken away. Not that it made much difference. The woman had seen her son lying dead and defenseless among the shrubs, his mangled body discarded by a callous killer.
He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, wishing he had eased off the caffeine earlier in the day. Between the artificial stimulation from the coffee and his inability to switch off his brain when he clocked out for the day, Bremner knew that it would likely be a long, sleepless night despite the deep exhaustion he felt.
Looking up at the lightless bulk of his house, acutely aware of the emptiness within, he knew the only comfort he would find inside would come from the half-empty bottle of scotch sitting on the kitchen counter.
Realizing he couldn’t spend the rest of the night in his car, he climbed out and made his way up the walk to the front door. Usually, he was unfazed by coming home to an empty house. Tonight, though, it felt like the sparsely furnished bachelor pad that it was. Despite being large enough to contain a boisterous young family, it was wasted on a man too busy trying to maintain law and order to fill it with the love and laughter it had been built to accommodate. Plus, finding the right woman wasn’t exactly easy. Taylor’s End was a small town, and most eligible women already had a ring on their finger. And those he did manage to date simply held no true connection with him.
As he closed the front door, he switched on the lights and laughed at himself. The Vincent boy’s death had left him feeling maudlin. If he didn’t do something to distract himself, he would end up crying in front of the TV, watching some pathetic rom-com on cable. Screw that. If he couldn’t go to sleep, he would keep working until he was too tired to keep his eyes open.
He dumped his pile of case files onto the coffee table and continued through to the kitchen. His last meal had been breakfast: a soggy cheese and tomato sandwich he had found in the staffroom at the station. He went to the refrigerator and checked for anything remotely appetizing. Unsurprisingly, nothing jumped out at him. There were a couple of containers of leftovers, but they had probably evolved into a biohazard by now. Eating them would be digestive suicide. He shut the door. He unscrewed the lid from the bottle of scotch and poured himself a finger of the amber liquid. Reconsidering, he poured in a little more before taking a sip. It burned going down, spreading its warmth through his empty stomach, and by the time he returned to the living room and planted himself on the couch in front of the case files, the alcohol had dissolved some of the tension winding him up.
Before long, the seed of an idea crept into his head. The alcohol, exhaustion, and loneliness led him to what could only end in disaster. It disturbed him. Nonetheless, he found himself scrolling through the contacts on his cell phone and hitting the call button before he could talk himself out of it. The phone rang once, twice, three times. By the fourth ring, he was relieved nobody was going to pick up, but then:
“Hello?”
“Kate.”
“Nick. Is everything all right?”
“Yeah, it’s been a rough day, and I guess I just needed to hear a friendly voice. But it’s late. I shouldn’t have called.”
“I don’t mind,” she assured him gently. “Truthfully, I’m glad you called. We haven’t spoken since I burst into your office the other day like a madwoman. I’m so embarrassed for acting like that.”
“Don’t be embarrassed. We’ve been friends for a long time, and friends look out for each other, right?”
“Right.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line.
“Nick, do you want me to come over?”
His breath caught as he mulled over her words. He knew he should say no. She was married, and he was a public figure, but her husband was a cheating jerk, and he was so damn lonely.
“Well?” she asked when he didn’t respond. “You sound like you could use some company.”
“Yeah, I want you to come over, but it’s probably not a good idea.”
“Probably not,” she agreed, “but at this point, I couldn’t give a shit whether it’s a good idea. I’ll be there in ten.” Kate hung up.
Nick was left holding the phone to his ear, wondering what he had just set in motion. His head swam with all sorts of crazy thoughts. Was Kate coming over as a friend to provide support when he was overwhelmed? Or was she coming over for something else? He had always felt the chemistry between them, and if she weren’t married, he would have done anything to be with her, but did she feel the same way?
He placed his cell phone down on the coffee table and returned to the kitchen for a second drink. He had to fortify himself against whatever was about to transpire. Kate would arrive in minutes. An anxious glance around the house confirmed his suspicions—the place was a complete mess. Ordinarily, he kept the house tidy, but with the recent increase in his workload, he had struggled to find time for some shut-eye, let alone the housework.
Without much hope of making a dent in the mess, he collected all the empty takeout containers piled on every available surface and dumped them in the trash. He dashed upstairs two at a time to change out of his uniform and freshen up a bit. He slipped on a pair of jeans and a comfy long-sleeved tee, wishing he had time for a shower. A fresh spray of antiperspirant would have to do the job. He splashed some water on his face and dabbed it dry with a fresh towel.
He caught his reflection in the mirror above the vanity. Although Mrs. Walsh had been on the mark regarding his empty home, she was freaking nuts if she thought he was handsome. Not that it mattered. Enforcing the law didn’t require dashing good looks. But damn, he wasn’t looking good. His eyes were red and tired looking, and the fine lines on his forehead and around his eyes were more pronounced than usual. His skin was dull. To top it all off, he needed a haircut. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Kate trying to jump his bones.
Disheartened, he switched off the light and headed back downstairs. Not wanting Kate to see the gruesome contents of the case files, he shuffled the papers and photographs in the manila folders and placed them beneath the newspapers long overdue for the recycle bin. He scooped up a pair of stray socks in front of the TV and straightened a pile of DVDs he had been meaning to rewatch.
A tremendous crashing sound outside startled him. “What the hell was that?” he wondered aloud, dropping the socks on his way toward the rear of the house.
He flicked on the exterior light and flung open the back door, sending the screen smacking against the exterior wall. The recycle bin lay on its side. Empty bottles and cans rolled across the concrete walkway that ran the length of the rear of the house. Many of the bottles had smashed in the impact, creating a lethal carpet of glass that glittered in the light cast by the bulb above the back door. Bremner tried to see into the darkness beyond the weak circle of light illuminating the back steps. The shadows were too dense beyond the perimeter of his yard, but he wasn’t too concerned. The cold drove the local wildlife to act more boldly than they would during the warmer months when food was more abundant. It was most likely a hungry raccoon.
The doorbell rang. He hurried back through the house and let Kate inside before the neighbors noticed. As she squeezed past him, her hair brushed Bremner’s cheek, tickling his skin. He inhaled the light floral scent that trailed after her and quickly closed the door.
Kate smiled up at him sheepishly. “I feel like a naughty teenager sneaking out after curfew. I hope none of your neighbors saw me. I would hate to send the nosy gossips into overdrive.”
Bremner helped her out of her coat and hung it on a hook by the door. “The porch light is out, so I think we might have sneaked you in unseen,” he winked conspiratorially. He could already feel his mood lifting.
She smiled up at him warmly and looked around the room. A lengthy silence stretched between them, neither person sure about how to proceed.
Finally, Kate broke the awkward silence. “This is stupid. We’ve never had trouble talking before.”
Bremner laughed nervously. “I know. It feels different somehow. I’m not sure why.”
Kate circled the room, too keyed up to stay still. She walked over to the bay window and pulled the curtains closed. Bremner swallowed. The tension in the room was unbearable. He would explode if something didn’t happen soon.
She crossed the floor and stood only inches from him. A rosy glow stained her cheeks, and he could see by the rise and fall of her chest that she was just as excited as he was.
Her hand trembling, she reached out and clasped his hand in hers. “I’m tired of being alone, Nick. I want more from life. I want love and warmth and laughter. And I want all that with you. If you’ll have me.”
Bremner stared down at her for the longest time, then pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. The physical contact, missing from both their lives for too long, was a pleasure neither wanted to end.
At some point her hand found its way down the waistband of his jeans. Her fingers slid beneath his underwear to cup the muscular curve of his buttock, pressing him close against her so she could feel his growing hardness against her stomach.
“Kate?” he asked huskily. He wanted to give her one last chance to change her mind before they did something that would forever change the dynamics of their relationship.
“Shhh,” she replied. She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed him. Their lips melted together hungrily. He pushed her skirt down over her hips and let it fall to her feet. He continued stripping her while his tongue slipped into her mouth, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his enthusiasm.
Fumbling with the clasp on her bra, he eventually got it off. He was rusty. She stood before him in nothing but pale pink underwear, and Nick took a moment to appreciate the view before he stripped off his T-shirt and unbuttoned his jeans. He pulled her against him once more. The heat of their touching flesh was almost dizzying. The cool air made Kate’s nipples jut out. He cupped her breasts, reveling in their weight, and gently caressed them. She moaned, and her head tilted back, exposing her neck. He kissed her throat and slowly made his way down to her collarbone, teasing her with each featherlight kiss.
“Nick, please. I can’t wait,” she whispered.
He felt the same sense of urgency, but he wasn’t willing to rush things. He had waited too damn long for this moment. Kate guided his hand down between her legs. He could feel the dampness through her underwear. He reached into his jeans and freed his cock. She stroked him eagerly. He wanted to fuck her then and there, but he held back, slipping his fingers inside her instead. She pressed down against them, pushing them deeper into her body and kissing him with wild abandon. Then, when neither of them could take it anymore, they sank to the floor. Kate straddled him, rubbing herself along his length, watching him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her hair fell around her shoulders in loose waves, and Bremner had never seen her look so beautiful and carefree. If she kept on teasing, he would blow his load before they even made love. “Get on,” he growled, grabbing her hips and pressing her body down on his. A cry of delight escaped her lips as she sank onto his cock, and Bremner watched, openmouthed, as he disappeared into her moist center. She rode him without inhibition. Her breasts bounced to the frantic rhythm of her hips as she slid up and down the length of his cock. A faint sheen of sweat gathered on her forehead, and she panted like an animal.
“Nick,” she gasped as she rocked back and forth, “this feels so good.”
Although he enjoyed her riding him, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, and he wanted his turn at pleasing her. He gripped her buttocks and rolled her onto her back. He took her legs and placed them on his shoulders, then plunged deep inside her. He thrust again and again, delighting in the sensation of her pelvic muscles contracting as she climaxed. Her nails dug into his back as she cried out in pleasure. Unable to control himself any longer, Bremner exploded inside her before slowly pulling out and lying beside her.
They lay with their limbs entwined, his erection slowly softening between them. The sweat cooled on their bodies. He smoothed the hair back from Kate’s face and gently planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I love you, Kate. I’ve always loved you.”
She smiled momentarily, but the expression dropped from her face, and she scrambled to her feet, one hand covering her breasts, the other between her legs. “There was a face at the back door. Somebody was looking in through the glass at us!” she cried hysterically.
Bremner leaped up, confused by her sudden outburst. He was still in a daze. “Kate, it’s OK.” He reached out and put a hand on her arm to try to calm her. “Do you honestly think there would be someone lurking around my backyard, waiting to catch us in the act?’’
Kate peered up at him, “Nick, I’m not imagining things. I saw someone watching us at the back door. It looked like they were wearing a Halloween mask or something.” She shivered and snatched the blanket from the back of the couch, wrapping it around herself. He didn’t want to dismiss her concerns, but seriously? The likelihood of a peeping Tom choosing the house of a man that rarely got any action seemed highly implausible.
Kate scooped up her clothes and quickly got dressed. She was visibly shaken by the incident, which made Bremner wonder if he wasn’t taking it seriously enough. Something had knocked over the recycling bin just before she arrived. “Do you think it was a raccoon or maybe a stray dog?” he dared to ask.
Kate’s eyes narrowed. “Only if it was the world’s tallest raccoon,” she responded drily.
There was a muffled thud overhead. They both looked up.
“Is there someone else here?” Kate whispered.
Bremner shook his head. He held a finger to his lips. “Stay put while I go upstairs and check it out. I won’t be gone long, I promise.” She nodded and moved behind the wall dividing the living area from the kitchen so that nobody could spot her from the rear of the house.
Bremner crept upstairs quietly, his bare feet hardly making a sound on the carpeted floor. He switched off the hall light and waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. His gun was in a secure box under his bed, less than twenty steps away. He heard another noise. It came from the guest bedroom off to his right. It was a stealthy sound, like someone was trying to pry open the window. He didn’t like their chances.
He decided against taking the extra time to retrieve his gun. Instead, Bremner stepped up beside the door to the guest bedroom and eased it open an inch so he could steal a look before he burst inside. There was nobody there. He had accidentally painted the window shut a few years back, and cracking the seal was on his ever-growing to-do list. He kept the door to the spare room shut since guests rarely used it, and he had a habit of tossing all his junk in there. Out of sight, out of mind.
Bremner swung the door open and switched on the light. He caught a glimpse of a pale, long-fingered hand groping along the edges of the window frame-from the outside. Then it vanished. He raced over to the window in time to hear the heavy thud of something or someone hitting the ground below the window. He spun around and flew down the stairs two at a time, using the wall for support as he descended. Regretting his decision to not take the time to retrieve his gun, Bremner grabbed the baseball bat he kept in the plant pot with the umbrellas near the base of the stairs. He raced past Kate, who shrank against the wall, and ran toward the French doors at the back of the house. “There’s someone out there, all right. Lock the door behind me.”
“Should I call the police?” she asked, following him into the dining room.
He unlocked the door and shook his head. “I am the police. Now make sure you lock it behind me.” He crept down the concrete steps. She quickly pulled the door shut and turned the lock before ducking behind the kitchen counter.
Bremner readied the bat. The concrete was miserably cold beneath his bare feet, and the icy air wrapped around his naked torso like a frigid blanket. He stepped across the snowy ground and toward the second-story window where he had spotted the intruder. The light from above the back door ended three feet from the steps, leaving him to edge along the side of the house in near pitch darkness. When he finally reached the area below the guest room window Bremner crouched. Using the bat for support, he ran his hand across the ground until he found the two craters in the thin layer of snow. Indents created by someone landing on the ground from a considerable height.
Standing up again, he scanned the yard. Every shadow was a potential threat. The thick row of pines at the rear of the property could easily conceal a person, but in the dark, it would be risky to hide there. A person could easily poke out an eye on a protruding branch or trip over a tree root. He turned toward his neighbors on the left. Their properties were separated by a six-foot fence and a vociferous Staffordshire Terrier who would like nothing more than to shred the pants off an intruder. That left his neighbors on the right—and the gate between the two properties.
He ran along the back of the house. His foot caught on the garden hose loosely coiled on the ground. He lost his balance, and the baseball bat flew out of his hands as he fell forward. He reached out and steadied himself against the cladding, narrowly missing a nasty tumble onto the unforgiving concrete.
Before he regained his footing, a dark shape materialized from out of the shadows and charged straight for him. He ducked instinctively, bracing himself for the impact, but his reflexes weren’t quite quick enough. The creature struck out at the shirtless, shoeless chief of police with an openhanded swipe that knocked him across the side of the jaw and sent him sprawling to the ground. With his head ringing from the impact, he crawled across the frigid ground to snatch up the baseball bat.
