Temperature Rising (13 page)

“Mac, Captain sent us to bring her in because you’re involved with her,” Tanner put forth. “You need to back off and let us do it.”

“She’s not under arrest.” Mac fought down the urge to scoop her up in his arms and run away with her. Not that his leg would let him do that. Just kneeling on the curb beside her had it on fire with pain.

“At least, let me get these handcuffs off long enough to look at her.”

Laken had been leaning against him, quiet, the whole time. When he released her hands, they slid around him and she clung to him. “It’s all right,” he whispered down. “Let me take a closer look.”

Laken shifted back then cried out, releasing him to wrap her arms around her leg, drawing it up. Mac saw the blood soaking through her pants just below the knee. “Easy.” He caught her hand, pulling it away. “Sit up here.” He lifted her to the seat of the detectives’ car then started to ease up her pant leg. At her whimper of pain, he took out a pocket knife and sliced up the well-worn denims she wore.

He bit off a curse. There was a gash a little over an inch long in her leg. A piece of glass from a broken bottle protruded from it. “Get me the first aid kit,” he ordered, using his handkerchief once more to wipe away blood. “This is going to need stitches.”

He looked up at Laken, who still hadn’t said anything since his name. “You okay?”

She nodded. “You came.” Her voice was barely over a whisper.

“As soon as I found out. I didn’t know anything about this. I promise. I was at my appointment.”

She gave him a forced smile then flinched with pain.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get this taken care of,” he reassured her. She looked so frightened. “We’ll get you to the hospital, and they’ll have it stitched up in no time. Slide on back in the seat and I’ll ride with you.” He turned and tossed his keys to Pearson. “Follow us in my car,” he ordered, taking the first aid kit from Tanner. Moving in beside Laken, he was actually surprised his command worked.

****

He couldn’t get to the witch.
He felt the heat of frustration.
First, that man had been around her.
A
cop, he was a cop.
Anger speared through
him.
She was working her spell on
the man.
He was protecting her.
But she didn’t have the others fooled, he thought with satisfaction, thinking of them bringing her out in handcuffs.
His mood soared immediately.
Even though
he couldn’t get to her,
at least not yet, he
would be the one to get rid of her.
The knowledge burned in his stomach.
It was his job to kill them.
It was his right.

****

They had driven a couple blocks when Mac heard Tanner chuckle from behind the wheel. “Pearson’s ticked off at you. It’s a good thing he’s not driving your personal car. I think he’d be tempted to drive it into a wall.”

“Well, I’m not too happy with him either at the moment. You guys didn’t need to be so rough with her.”

“She pulled back at getting in the car and then fell.”

“Yeah, when Pearson jerked her off the curb.” Anger flared in Mac as his mind replayed the scene.

The hand that rested on his arm was soothing, as was the look Laken gave him when he turned his attention back to her. He wanted to slide his arms around her, but a glance at her blood on his hands kept them in place on her leg.

The smile she gave him was shaky. “I’m in trouble aren’t I?”

“Nah, it’s just a little cut, five or six stitches.”

“I mean the murders.”

He knew what she meant and sighed. “We’ll work it out.”

“They think I did it,” she said with a straight forwardness he had to respect.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get the guy and clear everything up.”

She nodded. “I know, but I’m afraid he’s hunting again.” She looked like she was going to say something more and then stopped.

“What is it?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just a feeling.”

Mac knew that wasn’t all but didn’t get time to ask as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

It was almost a two-hour wait before the glass was taken out of Laken’s leg and seven stitches put in. They gave her a tetanus shot. When they left the hospital, she also had a butterfly bandage on the cut on her forehead and an ice pack on her ankle, which was swollen from twisting it when she slipped off the curb.

At the station, she was taken into an interrogation room where she was drilled continually for several hours, while Mac was forced to wait outside, unable to say anything, afraid they would make him leave. He knew he was on shaky ground, possibly going to be pulled from the case because of his relationship with Laken, but how could they not see that she was telling them the truth?

He wanted to go to her, to pull her out of the room. She looked pale and so weary. He wondered when she’d last eaten. He watched Pearson slam his fist down on the table, making her jump. The man wore his anger well, and Laken tried to keep calm under it, but it was obvious it disturbed her. Mac was relieved when the man stormed out of the room.

****

The instant the door was closed, Laken leaned forward and rested her head on her arms, folded on the table in front of her. She wanted Mac, though she knew he wasn’t allowed to come near her. She had heard it discussed when they brought her in and had seen Jonesy take his arm, drawing him firmly away. She hoped he didn’t get in trouble for being involved with her. At the hospital, while waiting, he told her several times not to worry, but that was impossible.

She felt so awful. The pain pill they had given her at the hospital took away most of the throb from her head, leg, and ankle, but they all still hurt, and the medication made her tired. What was worse, though, was the anxiety that hadn’t left since she stepped out of her apartment building. She felt like ants were running up and down her neck and shoulders. She wanted to scream, but given where she was, she didn’t think that was a very good idea.

She wished they would let Mac in to see her. She didn’t doubt he was still there. He wouldn’t leave her unless it was to hunt for the Hunter.

What was she going to do? When would they release her? She wondered if she should request a lawyer. They said she wasn’t under arrest but she couldn’t leave. Pearson seemed to take great pleasure telling her that they could hold her for forty-eight hours.

She must’ve dozed off because some time had passed when the door opened again. Her hopes for release plunged when it wasn’t Mac. The female officer directed her down the hall. Fear filled her and she wondered this time if she was being arrested. The room she was taken to wasn’t exactly a cell. It was small, barely the size of a walk-in closet. The only thing in it was a cot.

“Do you need the restroom?” the woman asked blandly.

Laken nodded.

“Behind there.” The woman motioned to a spot where the wall jogged out. There was no door, only the wall giving her privacy.

A minute later, Laken forced herself to step into the little room, and the barred door was closed behind her. Okay, so maybe it was a cell. She’d never been claustrophobic but figured that this place could make her. Still, it had a bed and that was all she wanted, though when she stretched out, sleep was slow in coming with her thoughts flipping over everything that was happening. It was hard to really believe it could all be true. She tried to be a good, honest person. And, she was in jail because she had had a dream.

She finally slipped into sleep and the nightmare.

****

Laken could feel the anger in the Hunter. He wanted to kill. It had been denied him. He scanned the bar. Laken knew the place. She’d been there before on a date. It was popular spot with the young executive, go-getter set. It was too loud for her taste and seemed that everyone was competing with everyone else. The Hunter scanned the room and studied each woman. He lingered on several before moving on, hunting for the right one. Two caught his attention, and he thought they deserved to die, but not tonight — they didn’t fit what he wanted. His gaze stopped on another woman. She had the look, but she seemed properly submissive so he moved on.

Then he saw her. Her shoulder-length, brown hair caught the light as she strode up to the bar. The skirt of her severely cut business suit was tight over her hips. Head held high, the set of her features said she was dominant. When a man moved into her space, she glared at him until he moved aside. She then put her nose up and looked away, dismissing him as if he were a fly. Drink in hand, she turned and surveyed the room. A tight smile on her lips, she silently challenged any man to step forward, and then she would cut him down.

Laken was trapped in watching her. Knowing what was coming. She fought to wake, to yell out. She couldn’t seem to get any sound out in the dream world or the real one that she couldn’t reach no matter how she fought for it. The eager hatred of the Hunter ate at her. The anticipation of the kill became an inferno.

****

Mac wanted to punch something, but kept the anger pushed down and fought for reason. “Why do we need to hold her? She hasn’t done anything,” he demanded, staring down at his captain. Amos Carter was a bull of a man. Though several inches shorter than him, Amos was built like an old heavyweight boxer. Mac had a lot of respect for the man, whose eyes blazed out at him from his dark ebony skin.

“Then how does she know so much about the murders? You said you didn’t give her any details.” Amos looked at him, challenging him to say he did.

“No.” Mac bit back his anger.

“I didn’t think so. That woman knows too much, and I’m not buying the dream thing. That psychic stuff might be hot on TV, but not in my station.”

“Why would she come forward if she was involved?”

“You know the answer to that. Some just like to challenge us to catch them. They can’t resist waving the red flag under our noses. I want you to get your head on straight and find me some evidence, or you’re off this case.”

“Laken didn’t do it. Dr. Shannon agrees with that.”

The man hardly paused. “The doctor is going with her instincts. I’m going with facts, and the fact is, the woman knows things that only the killer could. Are you going to throw away your career over her?” his captain challenged back.

“What career? We both know mine’s over. It’s only a matter of time until I’m forced to retire.”

“You’re better than any man on this force.”

“Then why won’t you trust me on this? She’s innocent.”

“That’s your emotions talking.”

“No, it’s not. You say you want evidence, let’s talk evidence. She isn’t tall enough. For the angle of the knife entry, she’d need to be at least six feet.”

“The woman’s five-eight, put her in heels and that would put her close enough.”

“Who would put on high heels to go killing people? Okay, scratch that. There are sickos that would, but the foot marks on the victims’ backs were not made from a high heel. Do you think she stops and changes shoes? And does she look like she had the strength to hold a woman, approximately the same size as her, while she plunges a knife in her back?” Mac made another point, but before he got his answer, there was a knock on the door and an officer stuck his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I was told to inform you immediately that there’s a problem down in holding with your suspect.”

“What suspect?” the captain barked, obviously annoyed by the interruption.

“Laken Williams. They said MacDaniels would want to know. I guess she’s running a high fever. They’ve got a paramedic unit headed down there now.”

Chapter Nine

Mac pushed passed the officer, bursting from the room, not needing to hear more. He took the stairs at a hobbled gate, not waiting for the elevator. The three flights had never seemed so far. It was easy to find where Laken was by the people gathered around the opening.

“Let me through,” he demanded, as he pushed his way past them. No one dared to question his right to enter the room. Two men from a paramedic unit were kneeling beside the cot, opening cases. He recognized both men. They were good paramedics, but one look at Laken sent terror slashing into him. She lay still on the cot, her mouth partly open in a silent gasp. It looked like she was barely breathing.

“What’s happening?” The words trembled as they came out of him.

“Some kind of an infection possibly, they said she cut her leg earlier. It could be what she cut it on was dirty, maybe contained some kind of toxin, or she’s having a reaction to what they gave her at the hospital. She’s burning up.” One of the men, Justin, answered without looking up from settling an oxygen mask over her face. He reached for a blood-pressure cuff.

“Her temperature is a hundred and five point three,” the other man, David, announced.

Justin looked up. “You certain?”

“Did it twice. We’ve got to bring it down.” David was already reaching for some cold packs in one of the boxes and activating them.

Mac’s attention turned to the woman he feared he couldn’t live without. Her stillness terrified him. “Laken.” He moved past the men to place a hand on her head. Her skin branded him with heat as he ran his fingers along her forehead to stroke back her hair. It took all his force of will to remain calm and think. His mind ran over what she had said about the visions of murder and the fevers. He remembered the heat that was still on her skin the night of the last one and how it had raised during the hypnosis.

“Man, her pulse is going through the roof,” Justin said.

“Temperature’s one-o-five point four.”

“Laken, come on, it’s Mac. Listen to me. You’ve got to come back to me. Come on, sweetheart. I need you to listen to me. You can fight this. You’re stronger than he is. Fight it.” She remained still. “Laken!” He gripped her face between his hands. Mac felt lost, only able to look down at her and plead with his eyes, and then he saw a tiny intake of air raise her chest.

“Temp’s a hundred and five even,” the voice in the room declared.