Blind Date

  “Why don’t you do that anymore?”

  He shrugs. “Life got busy, never had time.”

  “I understand that,” I admit. “I know how it feels. Sometimes I’d rather stay cooped up, and never go out. It seems easier to just forget life keeps going on after you lose someone.”

  “Yeah,” he murmurs.

  “Tell me more about Miranda.” I smile, studying him. “I like hearing you talk about her.”

  Ace nods, those lips tipping up just a little at the sides. God he’d be beautiful if he smiled. “She was crazy. She kept me on my toes, that’s for sure. I’ll never forget one time we were walking down the street and there were these dancers, two of them, trying to earn some money. There was a group of teenagers picking on this couple, and so Miranda kicked off her shoes and joined them, encouraging everyone watching to do the same. Soon enough, she had about a dozen people dancing, and laughing, and giving the couple money. She shut those teens up. She was good like that. She just had this edge about her, this light.”

  I smile. “It sounds like I would have liked her.”

  “You would have, because you’re exactly the same.”

  I roll my eyes. “Come on, I wouldn’t have danced in public with a group of strangers just to get back at a group of rude, bitchy teenagers.”

  Ace snorts. “Yeah, you would.”

  “I can’t believe she did that.”

  “That’s the kind of person she was. She always wanted to make people laugh, and if she couldn’t make them laugh, she’d just annoy the ever lovin’ hell out of them.”

  “Good for her, there aren’t enough people left like that in this world. People who just stick it to the man and do what they feel is right.”

  Ace agrees with a low “Hmmm,” then continues, “She was special, that’s for sure. She would have traveled the world and put a smile on everyone’s face if she had half the chance.”

  I smile at him.

  “What about you?” he asks, changing the subject. “What kind of man was Raymond?”

  “He was sweet,” I tell him. “Sweet as hell. He did little things every day to make me smile. He would leave a note, or just turn the washing machine on with a load of clothes—anything to make my life easier. He was always trying to make me happy.”

  “Not many men left like that in the world,” Ace murmurs.

  “No, there aren’t. I was lucky. I am lucky. I got to experience the very best kind, even if it was for such a short time.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever love anyone again?” I ask him, and his eyes flash, true emotion showing through for a second.

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to think anyone could compare,” he tells me in a low tone. “But I don’t believe there is only one person for everyone out there, either. I think it’s possible to love again. It might not be the same, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be just as good.”

  I nod thoughtfully. I agree with him.

  “Do you think it’s possible?” he asks me.

  “Yeah, of course. I mean, no love is the same, but I think everyone has more than one, without a doubt.”

  “Mmmm,” he murmurs, staring at my lips.

  “You’re staring at me,” I laugh softly. “How the tables have turned.”

  “That’s because you’re beautiful.”

  I flush and rub my hands together. “And to think I didn’t like you when we first met.”

  He shakes his head, those lips twitching again. “Not many people do.”

  “You said you’ve always been like that. Did it get worse after you lost Miranda?”

  He nods. “I didn’t cope all that well, and instead of dealing with it, I just shut down. It was hard to get myself out of that place. It became … second nature so to speak.”

  “So you weren’t angry when you were with her?”

  “No,” he tells me. “Broody yes, angry no.”

  “Do you think you’ll ever feel good enough to let that anger go?”

  He studies me. “I hope so.”

  “What was it like,” I dare to ask, “knowing you were going to lose her? I think all the time if I just had the chance to say good bye to Raymond, it might have hurt less, but I don’t believe that anymore.”

  His face grows a little sad. “Honestly, by the time she passed, I almost wanted it for her. Watching her suffer, watching the pain, watching her smile even when it hurt, knowing she was doing that for me, it killed me. It wasn’t just losing her, that was hell of course, but it was watching her suffer slowly first.”

  I nod, swallowing the thick lump in my throat. “I can imagine. I don’t think I could have coped, knowing it was such a long, painful process.”

  “It wasn’t easy, but I did get to say good bye to her. I can’t imagine how hard it would have been for you not to.”

  I nod, looking down. “It was horrible, but I have the good memories. I wasn’t there. I didn’t see it. I can keep Raymond in a safe place in my heart. You had to watch Miranda fade, and that takes strength.”

  He stares at me. “I guess we are both stronger than we think.”

  “I guess we are.”

  His mouth quirks a little bit again.

  “You know what I think, Detective?”

  “What do you think, Hartley?”

  “I think you’d stop the world for just a second if you smiled.”

  His eyes flash with something unfamiliar to me, and for a moment, I think he might just smile, but he doesn’t.

  He will, one day. I’ll make sure of that.

  “Have you heard anything from Jacob?” he asks me, changing the subject.

  I grin at him.

  “Stop grinning at me, I’m just asking a question.”

  “Anyone would think you’re jealous, Detective.”

  “I don’t get jealous,” he says, his voice dropping low. “I was just asking.”

  “Nobody ever ‘just asks,’ and you know it. Just come out and say what you have to say.”

  He crosses those big arms. “I don’t like that dickhead, not one single bit. I don’t understand what you saw in him.”

  “Jacob was a nice guy, he just wasn’t boyfriend material.”

  “No, he was girlfriend material.”

  I giggle. “Gosh, getting a bit cranky there, aren’t we?”

  Ace grunts.

  “Anyway, we’re just friends. You don’t need to concern yourself over it.”

  He gets up from his spot on the sofa. “Wasn’t concerned.”

  He leans down, brushing his lips across my forehead as he passes.

  “You tell yourself whatever you have to,” I call when he straightens and goes into the kitchen.

  “Will a cup of tea stop you from talking?”

  I laugh.

  He shakes his head, those eyes dancing.

  “Yes, please,” I answer, unable to wipe the grin off my face.

  “Wipe the smirk, Hartley.”

  I can’t, but I know he doesn’t mind.

  Not really.

  It’s the first time I’ve felt good in … forever.

  T: Come over and stay at my house tonight. I want to see you.

  I stare down at the text message from Taylor just as I reach my apartment after finishing up a twelve-hour training shift at the hospital, where I got to watch my first baby being born. It was incredible. Definitely makes it worthwhile. I’m exhausted, and Ace is busy with work tonight, so maybe going and hanging out with Taylor might be a good thing.

  H: I just finished up a shift at the hospital. Weren’t you working tonight?

  T: No. I’m not on. Come over. I miss you.

  I could use a girls’ night.

  H: Let me tell Ace. I’ll get back to you.

  T: Okay!

  I dial Ace’s number while locking my apartment door. The cop on the other side gives me a nod. I hate closing the door right in his face, it makes me feel rude, but Ace has assured me, more than once, that it’s normal an
d they’re used to it. Still, I feel bad.

  “Hart,” Ace answers, his voice smooth and calm.

  “Hey,” I say softly. “Listen, how safe is it for me to go to Taylor’s house for the night?”

  “Safe enough, so long as we keep the watch on outside and you ensure that Taylor locks all her doors.”

  “She’s in a third-floor apartment, I think we’re fairly safe so long as someone is at the main entrance.”

  Ace makes his hmmmm sound of agreement, then says, “Yeah, that’s good.”

  “So it’s okay for me to go?”

  “Yeah, go. Will do you good.”

  I snort. “You sound like my father or something.”

  He grunts. “Believe me, the thoughts I’ve been having about you today are anything but fatherly.”

  I flush. “Is that right?”

  “It’s right,” he murmurs, low and sexy.

  “It’s a shame you’re working then.”

  “A fuckin’ shame.”

  I squirm, wishing more than anything that he wasn’t working tonight.

  “Oh well, I guess you have your thoughts to keep you company, then.”

  He growls, and I could swear my panties pack up and run away from me. “You better go to your friend’s house, or I’ll have to walk away from this case so I can come home and feel myself inside you again. And I don’t have time for that, unfortunately, because the sooner I can find this fucker and remove him from your life, the better.”

  I agree softly, but even I can hear the husky edge to my voice. “Okay, big guy.”

  “Get Bill outside to escort you over to Taylor’s, and I’ll give him a call and tell him to wait outside there for the night, too.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “Give me a call before you go to sleep tonight, let me know you’re safe.”

  My heart swells. “Okay, detective.”

  “Okay, darlin’. Good night.”

  Darlin’.

  Swoon.

  “Good night.”

  I hang up the phone and quickly text Taylor back.

  H: I’m on my way!

  T: Yay! I’ll have the essentials ready.

  I rush into my room, change into a pair of jeans and a tank, and then pack some things I’ll need for the night before heading back out into the kitchen. I check around quickly to make sure I’ve got everything, and then I step out into the hall, locking the door behind me. Bill is already waiting, and when he sees me, he says, “Ready to go?”

  I nod, happy I’m finally doing something semi-normal for a change. It’s been a while since I’ve gone out and just had some fun with Taylor. The last few weeks have been a roller coaster of emotion and fear and pain. This is the first time I feel okay. I don’t know how long that’ll last, so I’m going to hang on with both hands and pray it doesn’t leave.

  The drive to Taylor’s takes about ten minutes. Riding in the cop car with these guys never gets old. I have a smile on my face the entire journey. When we arrive at Taylor’s, I look up to her apartment and see her standing in the window. I can’t see her face from here, but she gives me a wave.

  “Did you want to come in and check?” I ask Bill.

  He looks up at Taylor. “That your friend?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “That’s all good, then. I’ll walk you to the door, but she is clearly not in any danger.”

  I smile and slide out of the cop car, letting my eyes scan the streets automatically before I move quickly to the front door. Bill follows close behind me, doing the same. When I reach the lift, he rides with me up to the third floor. He checks the halls, and then turns to me, “It’s all good. I’ll be down at the front entrance, I’ll make sure nobody comes up without going past me.”

  “Thank you, Bill,” I smile. “Have a good night.”

  He nods as the doors to the elevator close. I walk to Taylor’s door and knock. A minute passes, and then I hear the lock unclick and the door open. Taylor stands in the doorway, but she’s not the happy person I’d swear was just waving to me from the window. Of course, I couldn’t see her face, but now … she looks terrified. Something cold washes over me, and her lips part to say something, to warn me maybe, but it’s too late.

  A figure steps out from behind her. I can tell it’s a man right away because of his height, and also the lean build with enough muscle to tell me it is definitely not a woman.

  I can’t see his face, he’s wearing a full-faced mask with only eyes and nose holes. He’s also wearing a pair of shades, so I can’t see the shape or even the color of his eyes. He’s holding a massive butcher knife in one hand, and a gun in the other. That gun points directly at the back of my best friend’s head. My entire world stops moving. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything but stand there and stare.

  “Get inside.”

  His voice is muffled by some sort of voice changer that is over his mouth, somehow connected behind his head, maybe by a strap, so it comes out sounding crackly and machinelike.

  I take a shaky step forward, my knees trembling, my body cold from head to toe. I should scream, or turn and run, or call out to someone, but I can’t do that. I can’t because I know he will pull the trigger of the gun that’s aimed at Taylor’s head. I will not allow that to happen. So I go inside, just like he demands.

  “Stand over there, hands on your head,” he orders, pointing the gun at Taylor and nodding in the direction of the kitchen. “Or I scatter her brains.”

  I flinch and do as he says, walking over to where the kitchen is. My bag drops to the ground as I put my hands up above my head. Taylor is shoved next to me and we both stand there like that, watching as he shuts and locks the door. Then he turns and faces us. His head tips down to my handbag, and he demands, “Kick that to me.”

  I do as he says, kicking the bag across the room. He reaches down, emptying the contents on the ground. He flicks through my things, and then looks up at me. I might not be able to see his eyes, but he terrifies me. He’s dressed all in black, from head to toe, not an inch of skin to be seen. Black gloves over his fingers, black boots over his feet, and black clothing covers his body. The mask he’s wearing is low enough to touch the top of his shirt.

  All black.

  That’s all I can see.

  “Where’s your cell phone?” he demands.

  No.

  Dammit.

  No.

  I reach into my pocket with shaky fingers and pull it out, wishing I had Ace on speed dial, or I thought to try and send a text, something. If he takes this phone, it’s all over. There will be no way Ace will know I’m gone. He thinks I’m safe at Taylor’s. He steps forward and snatches the phone from my hand, unlocking it then doing something—his gloved fingers press at the screen, but he can’t seem to achieve whatever it is he’s trying to do.

  He walks closer to me. “Send the cop a message. Tell him you’re safe.”

  No.

  “And if you send anything else, I’ll kill her.”

  Taylor looks at me, and she’s terrified. Her eyes are wide and bloodshot, her body is trembling, and her mouth is agape and frightened. I will not let him hurt her. So I do as he says.

  H: I’m at Taylor’s. I’m safe. Have a good night.

  I turn the screen to him, and he nods sharply. I press SEND and he snatches the phone from my hand, turning it off and shoving it into his pocket. I study him, trying to figure out if I know him from the way he moves, the way he acts, but I can’t pick up anything familiar. He’s tall, but with those clothes on, it’s hard to know much more. They’re almost bulky in their appearance, making it hard to fully see his build. All I know for certain is that this man is the killer, and he was clever enough to get hold of me using my best friend.

  I can’t let him hurt Taylor.

  I have to figure out a way to get us both out of here.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I blink awake and, for a moment, I’m dazed and confused. I don’t remember being
knocked out, or falling asleep, but by the bouncing around I can feel, I know I’ve been out for a while. We’re in a car, or a truck, maybe a van. I go to reach up and rub my eyes, but my hands are cuffed in front of me. Panic sets in as I remember the man who was at Taylor’s house.

  Taylor.

  I jerk my head to the left, and then to the right. We’re in a van, that much is obvious due to the size of the back and the white walls. Taylor is to my right, hands cuffed in front of her, too, her eyes wide and alarmed, focused on me. How did she get roped into this? I was praying he would let her go, but he hasn’t. He hasn’t and now she’s here. We’re here, together.

  “Are you okay?” I whisper, my eyes going to the front of the car where the man in black is driving.

  There is a massive screen sectioning us from him, and by the looks of it, it wouldn’t smash easily. Outside of that, there is nothing else in the back of the van except Taylor and me, and the blanket we’ve been placed down on. The back doors are padlocked together, to ensure we can’t jump out. Our hands and feet are cuffed. We’re stuck.

  “I’m scared, Hartley,” she whispers.

  My chest twists, and my whole body prickles. Yes, I’m afraid too. I feel the same fear coursing through my body. “Me too. We’re going to get out of here, though. There are two of us, and only one of him. We’ll figure it out.”

  Do I even believe the words coming out of my mouth?

  This feels like a dream. Almost like it can’t be happening, and we’ll wake up any moment.

  Only I know we won’t.

  “I d-d-didn’t want to text you,” she squeaks. “I didn’t, but he made me. I was so afraid. He just showed up at my door and demanded I contact you and get you over to my house. It worked. He made me stand by the window and wave when you arrived, so the police officer wouldn’t be concerned.”

  A genius plan, really.

  “How did he get us out of the apartment?” I wonder out loud.

  “Through an emergency exit. I was still awake. He drugged you. I had to lead him out while he carried you. He told me if I made even a sound, he’d shoot you right in front of me.” She hiccups. “He had a van parked in the alley.”