Beauty and the Chief (3 page)

“Oh.” Jillian couldn’t keep in her disappointment.

“I’m sorry.” He seemed hesitant to continue. “She also said it would be a couple days before she’d advise taking her home.”

“She is all right, isn’t she?” Jillian again couldn’t keep the tremor from her voice.

“She’ll be fine. I promise you, Eliza Jones is very good. But it took fifty-six stitches to sew Abby up. There was one cut on her shoulder and another on the side of her neck.”

The shudder came from deep within. Jillian wrapped her arms around her body in attempt to keep from breaking apart. It all seemed so unreal. Tears threatened. “She’s just a puppy.”

A sob snuck out. She wanted the night to end. She wanted Abby.

***

Mark kept his eyes focused into the foggy night lit by the headlights, feeling that if he even glanced at the woman sitting next to him, he’d give in to his urges and pull her into his arms, and never let her go. He clenched his hands on the steering wheel. He was getting too old for these late nighters.

He was a police officer. The Police Chief. She was a victim and a witness. He needed to keep that foremost in his mind. He’d never had a problem doing that before.

It didn’t make sense. At thirty-six, he was too old for the fresh-faced young woman sitting next to him. Maybe that was the attraction − fresh, and innocent. Maybe he hadn’t been around that type of female for so long that he couldn’t deal rationally with it. He felt a most unreasonable compulsiveness toward her.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d driven in silence before her voice again trembled through the air.

“Did … did they find him?”

Every muscle in his body tightened to the point that the tension filled the car. “No.” It was a low growl, “but we will.” It was more a promise to himself than it was to her.

Inside the car it remained silent until they pulled into her condominium.

“Are you sure there’s no place that you’d rather I take you for the night?” He shifted into park.

“No, I’d just like to go in, take a hot shower and go to bed.”

“We’ll have cars in the neighborhood all night,” Mark said to give her some comfort.

“Thank you.”

Mark heard the catch in her voice and got out before he could give into the desire to take her into his arms to comfort her. What Jillian Taylor needed was for them to catch this monster. That firmly in his mind, he walked her to her door and left after making sure all was secure.

It was only a short trip to his house. The light in the hall welcomed him to the otherwise dark and silent house. All was peaceful here not much more than a mile from the crime that wreaked havoc on his night’s sleep.

He wondered if Jillian would sleep that night. He doubted it. Twice he almost found himself volunteering to stay with her. Luckily, his reasonable side had stopped him, reminding him about not getting personally involved with a case. After all, she was a victim. The last thing she needed to deal with was an amorous police chief.

He opened the fridge, pulled out his dinner, and slid it into the microwave. At the bell, he took it out only to push the food around the plate while thinking over everything that had happened tonight.

At least now, they had some evidence to work with. They would get this guy. But would it be before someone else died? He didn’t want to think of the possibility. Shoving a bite of food in his mouth, he found it cold again.

He gave up and put it back in the fridge. He’d have to be up in a few hours to see Jordan off to school. It was a practice he had always tried to maintain no matter what the situation. He wanted his son to know that he was the most important thing in his life.

Slowly he walked up the stairs, carrying his shoes not to make extra noise. He paused at Jordan’s door and looked in at the sleeping boy, his son. Jordan was the only good to come out of his four-year marriage. He had a lot of regrets about Felicity, but none about his son. There was no question Jordan was his son. They were the same in looks and in actions.

Pride swelled within him. Turning away, he went to his room. After shucking his clothes, he stretched out on his bed. Unimpeded, his thoughts again went to Jillian Taylor.

***

The water didn’t seem to be hot enough to wash the terrors of the night away. Shuddering at the feeling of the darkness peering in through the fan window high on the wall, Jillian slammed off the water. She pulled the large, soft towel around her flushed body. She wouldn’t be scared. This was her house. She was safe here, and she wasn’t going to let anything convince her otherwise.

She was strong, strong enough to cut off the urge to plead with Chief Richards to stay with her awhile. She was safe. She repeated the phrase in her mind again. The windows and doors were locked. The alarm was on. Chief Richards had gone through the whole condo making sure it was clear before he left, but as soon as she watched him pull away, she wished she could bring him back. For some reason, safety and warmth had become synonymous with him.

She pulled on another pair of old, warm sweats, curled up on the bed, and dragged the covers up around her. Willing herself to sleep was no good. Each noise, real or imaginary, had her bolting upright again. She wished Abby was there or maybe a police chief with a strong chin and broad shoulders.

***

The shadow closed in on her. Jillian ran harder. She had to find Abby. She could hear her whining. Jillian called for her, panicking as trees lashed out at her, then the branches changed into knives swiping out.

Jillian screamed.

Abby’s whine. She was close. She could find her.

Jillian burst through the mist and froze at the sight of the castle towering over her. It was no shimmering, fairy tale castle with sparkling towers and bright colored banners. It was dark, ominous with heavy turrets and deep shadows.

A whine drew her forward against her will. “Abby.” Jillian stepped on the drawbridge and almost pulled back as something moved in the murky goo of the moat.

Terror threatened to crush her, but she kept going on. The bars of the gate slithered under her hand. Jillian swallowed and pushed it open, forcing herself on. “Abby.” She turned toward the sound of barking. The scream ripped from her throat as she looked at the beast covered in darkness.

“Scream for me, Beauty. Love me, Beauty.”

“No!” Jillian sprang up in bed. Sweat drenched her body. Her heart fought for each beat. The familiarity of her room seeped in, but the terror refused to fade. Jillian pulled her legs to her chest, wrapped her arms around them and dropped her head down, trying to catch her breath among tears.

When she managed to get herself in control enough to move, she looked at the clock. The digital number read five-twelve. A glance at the darkness outside her balcony glass doors confirmed the truthfulness of the time. Taking a deep breath, she tried to push her fear away as her heart rate slid closer to normal.

Jillian looked at the window again. It wasn’t totally dark because of the condo’s lights along the walkways, but unfortunately, she couldn’t make the sun rise sooner. Still, she could refuse to let the night beat her.

Knowing there was no going back to sleep, she pushed aside the blanket. She went to the bathroom, pulled out a clean towel and turned on the shower that she had only left a couple hours earlier. This time the shower was a little more successful in washing away the night’s terror.

Cuddled in the thick robe that had been a present to herself on her last birthday, she wandered around unable to settle down. After the third trip up and down the stairs, Jillian decided she’d had enough and headed for her closet. Taking out what she labeled her power suit, she dressed. A few minutes later, she had her hair twisted up in a French knot and headed for her car.

Once in the seat, she hit the button on the garage door opener and started the car. The door hardly cleared the car before she backed out. The faint morning glow started to light the streets, but the shadows were still too deep, pulling a shudder from her, but she pressed on.

With no traffic to slow her down, it took only a couple minutes to reach her design studio, Taylored Interiors. The sight of it gave her a jolt of pleasure even the ugliness of the night couldn’t dim. She had worked so hard the last couple years, given up a lot on a personal and social life, but it had paid off. Her client base was getting stronger every day. She had all the work she could handle. Now was a perfect time to spend a couple of extra uninterrupted hours.

At the door, she felt a moment’s hesitation until she hit the light switch. Light flooded the studio bringing it alive with color. This was her work space. Here she ruled. The wave of confidence rushed over her wiping away any doubt. Clicking the lock behind her was normal practice when she was there alone after hours.

***

“Jillian.”

Jillian jumped. A whole row of markers clattered to the floor. Her shriek ended in more of a squeak as she spun to face Nan. Jillian dropped her head to her hand propped on the table as the other hand came to her chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t hear me unlock the doors.”

“I guess … I got caught up.”

“Submerged might be a better word.” Then the woman who was her assistant really looked at her. Jillian feared for a moment that Nan would see the bruises under the layer of makeup, but the woman shifted her attention to her desk and the surrounds. “What’s all this? How long you been here?” She motioned to her jacket on the back of the chair and the design boards strung along the wall and stacked on her desk.

“A while, I couldn’t sleep so decided it was better to work through it.” Jillian shrugged.

“Work being the optimum word. What’s this one?” Nan grimaced, looking at a board next to the waste basket. “Definitely not your usual quality.”

Jillian met the grimace with one of her own. “It took me a minute to get into it.”

“I’d say. Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“This is me, Sweet Pea. Want to try again?”

“I’m glad you don’t call me that around the clients.”

Nan had a handful of flower nick names she called her. The woman treated her more like a daughter than an employer, but that was how their relationship worked and it worked great.

A year ago, Jillian was looking for help around the studio, figuring she’d find a college student. She ended up with a fifty-year-old woman who had her family all raised and moved away and needed something productive to do with her time. The combination was perfect. Nan had great taste, was extremely efficient, and watched after Jillian like a mother hen.

Nan remained silent, staring down at her, Jillian fidgeted in her chair. “It doesn’t matter.”

Nan’s eyebrow arched. “Now, if you were dating someone, I’d say you broke up last night. But, since you hardly take time to go out, and the only males you have penciled in your life right now are ten and eleven years old and wear shin guards, I’m not buying that, so give. What’s happened since yesterday? You didn’t lose the Van Buren account? No, that’s what you’re working on, and it wouldn’t do this to you.”

“Do what?”

“Upset you so. There’s a … shadowed quality about you today.”

“That bad?”

“No, not that bad, but you forget, I know you.”

Jillian sighed. There was going to be no getting around it. Besides, it would probably be best to talk it out, and there was no one better to talk to than Nan. “Remember a month ago about the young woman who was murdered? It made the news for several days because it was similar to another.”

“Yes.” Trepidation tightened Nan’s voice. “Jillian, what happened, Poppy?”

“Last night, when Abby and I were running, she broke away. I raced after her. We … there was … he was going to kill her. Abby stopped him. She saved her. Then he tried to kill me.”

“Jillian!” Nan wrapped her arms around her.

The tears she’d been holding back broke free to run down her cheeks as she soaked in the comfort.

After a moment she pulled back. “I’m okay. Abby saved me, too. But he cut her. Then the police got there. She’s at the vet’s. I haven’t been able to see her yet.” She wiped her eyes and looked at the clock. “The vet should be open by now, don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course. Do you have the number? I’ll check.”

Jillian shook her head. “Chief Richards said it was Mountain View.”

“All right, you go clean up. I’ll call and change your morning appointments to give you some time.”

Jillian nodded her thanks. She felt better again. “I also have to go to the police station and sign a statement.”

“We’ll figure that in, too.”

***

Jillian spent an hour with Abby, who just wanted to cuddle up in her lap. It was a habit she’d had been trying to break her of, but at that moment Jillian didn’t mind it or the yellow hairs on her black skirt. She was just happy to see Abby doing so well. Even the fact that she couldn’t bring her home until the next day, and there would be no runs for a while didn’t dull her pleasure.

Next, she stopped at the hospital to check on Sandra but found they wouldn’t release any information since she wasn’t a relative. As she turned to leave, an older man approached her.