Cries in the Night (27 page)

“He didn’t even have a real name,” she mourned.

“Of course he did. He answered to Cat, so he knew that was his name.”

“I should have been more original. I should have done a better job.”

“Come on. It’s freezing out here.” Rusty knew he couldn’t talk her out of her misery, so he put his arm around her shoulders and guided her back inside the
house. He noticed the raw scratches on the table top, but neither of them mentioned it as they passed through the kitchen. “Go pack your things. You’re going to spend the night at my place,” he told her, leaving her no chance to argue.

While she was in her bathroom, gathering the personal items she would need, he went through the house and collected all of Cat’s toys and dishes and packed them in a box so it wouldn’t be such a harsh reminder of his absence when she returned. He cleaned up the spilled Chinese food and tossed the open can of cat food in the garbage. It was full. The psycho that had killed Cat hadn’t even let him eat any first.

Julie walked back into the room. “I’ll follow you over there in my car. We both have to work tomorrow.”

Rusty started to protest but accepted that what she said was true. “Stay here. I’ll lock up and we’ll walk out together.” He locked the front door, turned off all the lights except for one lamp in the living room, then went back to the kitchen. She set the alarm and they left, locking the back door behind them. He escorted her to her car inside the garage, not letting her out of his sight as she backed out. The garage door closed, and she waited until he got into his SUV, then followed him to his condo.

She was unusually quiet as they sat on the couch, warmed by the fireplace and shared a bottle of wine. He knew he had to get up early the next day for his shift, so she actually did most of the drinking.

As Rusty leaned against the corner of the couch with Julie nestled against him, their legs covered by a Denver Broncos blanket, he thought about his earlier conversation with his mother. After he had told her all about Julie, leaving out the juicy parts, of course, his mother had looked him straight in the eyes and gave him the benefit of her years of dealing with her husband and sons.

“I’ve never seen that look in your eyes when you’ve talked about a woman. Maybe she’s the one. Or maybe not. You won’t know unless you give it a chance. You need to tell her how you feel.”

“But I don’t know how I feel,” he had protested.

“Yes, you do. And it scares you to death. This one is special. Don’t screw it up.”

Rusty looked down at Julie who was staring with misty eyes at the flames dancing among the glass pieces. His mother was absolutely right. He knew how he felt … and he
was
scared to death.

But tonight was not the night to talk about her past or their future. He would be at the fire house until 7:30 Christmas morning, then he had to go to his parents’
and she had to work. There would be plenty of time Christmas night. Maybe they could put all this behind them and decide how to move forward.

For the first time ever, Rusty welcomed a woman into his bed with no expectation of sex. All he wanted to do was hold her and make her pain go away. As she moaned in her sleep and he felt fresh tears drip onto his arm, his confidence wavered. What if he couldn’t?

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Rusty had already left for work when she woke up. It felt odd to be in a strange bed. She lay there, for a moment, and took in her surroundings. The room was totally masculine, with heavy oak furniture and framed photographs of Colorado scenery. There was an expensive Nikon DSLR camera and a powerful telescopic lens next to a case of accessories on the dresser. Was Rusty the photographer?

She climbed out of the sprawling king-sized bed and walked closer to one of the photos. It was a photo of Echo Lake on a calm, clear day. The line of evergreens and aspens that came down to the water’s edge and the snow-capped peaks behind were mirror-imaged onto the surface of the lake with such perfection that the photo would have looked almost exactly the same if flipped upside down. She moved to the next, a scene of two giant bull elks, their heads lowered, frosted breath billowing from their flared nostrils as they measured each other’s worthiness for battle. An interested herd of females watched from a distance.

Julie continued around the room, admiring the beauty and balance of each photo until she reached the last, and her breath caught in her throat. It was her meadow. Well, not
her
meadow, but the one in the painting in her office. She hadn’t been sure it actually existed, but here it was, in vibrant color, splashed with wildflowers. The stream running through it was so vivid that she could almost hear it bubbling over the rocks. Rusty had been there … in her meadow.

Somehow, she was not surprised. It wasn’t the first time they had shared something so obscure. It was as if they had been walking down parallel paths all their lives until, they finally, accidentally crossed … and merged. Julie’s heart ached. There were so many reasons why those paths could not stay joined. His was inclined to wander endlessly and hers wasn’t wide enough for anyone else.

Julie thought about the scene back at her house and shivered. She loved that little house, even though the counters were old and chipped and the windows were only single-paned and completely inefficient. But she didn’t know how she would ever feel comfortable there again. Maybe it was time for her path to take her out of Denver. She could move to Salt Lake City or Reno or wherever, and start over. She would escape from her stalker and run away before Rusty had a chance to move on to someone new.

However, it was Christmas Eve, and she had to get to work. It would take a couple weeks to find a replacement and to get her house on the market. She needed to make some calls and check with the Chief of Police who might know of another department in a different state who needed a Victim’s Advocate manager or maybe even start a new department. It would be tricky, but her excellent history with the DPD should help. Or she would take a completely different path and go into teaching and take some art classes. She had loved oil painting in college, but had never touched another paintbrush after she had graduated except to change the color of the walls. She had waitressed before, and she could certainly do it again if necessary. There were many options and she was young enough to make a change … even if she wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about it.

After a quick shower, she dressed for the office and made the bed. In the kitchen there was a note next to a plate of cookies, which when she opened it, a key fell out and clattered to the table.

You were sleeping so deeply I didn’t want to wake you. Here’s a key for the front door. I’ll be back tomorrow morning around eight. Help yourself to these cookies. Keep in mind that I made them myself with my own two hands. Make yourself at home. R

Smiling, she picked up a red Christmas tree and took a bite. Did he really have to sign it “
R”
? Who else would be leaving her a note in this condo? It was sweet of him to leave her a key … and he was sharing his cookies. She finished the tree and took a green reindeer with her as she left the condo and pocketed the key.

Obviously, the Police Dept. didn’t close for holidays, but most of the office staff either took a day of vacation or left at noon. Julie had planned to leave at noon, but she wasn’t anxious to go back to the empty condo and even less enthusiastic about going to her own house, so she stayed until after six. She stopped and picked up a Subway flatbread sandwich and took it back to the condo where she ate it in front of the fireplace while watching the news.

Even though Rusty wasn’t there, his personality filled the rooms. It wasn’t just the photos of his family and friends or the artistic shots he had taken with his camera, or even the mementoes from his sports and firefighter career. It was his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair and his Nikes by the front door and the scent of his after shave that hung in the air in his bathroom. There was an indentation in the seat of his favorite recliner and a set of hand weights in the corner.

When she went to bed after a long soak in the jetted tub, she snuggled against his pillow. She was almost asleep when her phone beeped, indicating that she’d just gotten a text.

“Real busy 2 nite. Just wanted u to know that I’m thinking of u & wish I was there beside u.”

She typed a response. “
Missing you, too. Nice bed. Love the tub and the fireplace.

Keep the bed warm. I’ll be beside u before u wake up.”

“Promises, promises. BTW, the cookies were great. I left some for Santa,”
she answered.

“Good. Wouldn’t want him to pass by without stopping. He’s got a present for u.”

“Oh no! He better not.”

“Santa does his own thing. Another alarm. G2G. Night, darlin’.”

“Be safe.”

“Always.”

She held her phone against her chest as if she could feel his heartbeat through it. With his pillow under her cheek, she drifted off to sleep.

 

Julie felt the covers lift and the mattress move as a weight lowered onto it. The pillow was replaced by warm skin. A bristle-rough cheek rubbed against hers and soft, gentle lips pressed against her forehead, her closed eyelids and finally captured her mouth. She stirred and reached out for him, responding automatically to his familiar touch, his scent, his taste.

He lifted her short nightgown and slid his hand down her belly and below, dipping his fingers inside her, encouraged by her wetness. She lifted her hips, pressing against his hand until he moved over her and replaced his fingers with his rigid flesh.

They made love with a passionate urgency that had more to do with their night apart. It was pulsing with the fragility of their future and heightened by the danger they constantly faced. They were both adrenalin junkies, each in their own way. He handled his obsession by running into burning buildings; she by facing her worst fears and trying to help victims take control of their lives.

She lost all coherent thought as she reached a bone-melting climax, crying out his name before floating off into oblivion. Vaguely she was aware of him plunging deeply inside her and filling her with his heated liquid before he collapsed on her.

Slowly she drifted back to reality.

“Merry Christmas baby,” Rusty whispered in her ear.

“Thank you, Santa. That was the best gift ever.”

He chuckled. She could feel the vibrations move through her chest.

The ringing of her phone shattered the moment.

“Hello,” she spoke into the mouthpiece. “Yes, just a minute.” She picked up a pen and a clipboard that she had left next to the bed. “Go ahead.” She jotted notes as the dispatcher gave her the information. After hanging up, she turned to Rusty and sighed. “It’s already started. Someone is having a bad Christmas morning.”

He pulled her back down into his arms for a last lingering kiss. “Last night was crazy, too. We weren’t in the station for more than five minutes before we’d get another call.” He yawned and stretched. “I’m going to grab a nap, then go over to my parents. Call me if things calm down.”

“I will,” she promised and reluctantly left his bed. A few minutes later she was in her car and heading for her first call.

As she had predicted, people did ugly things to each other on holidays. The economy was bad. People were unemployed or underemployed. A father who couldn’t provide that special gift his child had been wanting or hadn’t received a Christmas bonus that would help pay off some overdue bills would sometimes act out his frustration. It might start as an argument or an accusation to deflect the blame. But it always ended in tears and pain … and in the case of the first call, a trip to the hospital.

There was barely enough time to grab a sausage biscuit from 7-11 before the dispatcher called with another incident. Julie arrived just after the fire department and watched, helplessly as a family’s house burned, started by a dry Christmas tree and taking with it all hope for a happy holiday. It would be months before their lives returned to normal. As the dad, mom and their four kids watched everything they owned being ruined by the flames, smoke and water, Julie took some blankets out of her trunk and handed them out. She made some calls and arranged for a free Christmas dinner at a local restaurant, one of the few that were open today, and talked the manager of the local Salvation Army into opening up so the family could get some clothes and a few toys for the kids. Finally, she found them a room at a nearby motel so they could clean up and have a place to stay until their insurance company stepped in. The family was understandably in shock, but at least she had helped them stay warm and dry and to have a good holiday meal.