Just Intuition (2 page)

CHAPTER ONE

The first rosy hint of daylight flooded the horizon when Erin wearily poked her key in the lock and turned. She gave it the requisite jiggle, accompanied by a shove from the toe of her running shoe. Making the hundredth mental promise to
'fix that damn door', she wrenched it open with a loud screech. So many things needed repair in this old house. An ancient alarm, the first of its paranoid generation, obediently beeped its warning. She tapped the keypad and the red light switched to green.

A large Golden Retriever dashed around the living room corner and snuffled her pant legs, its tail thrumming a happy rhythm. Erin held the excited dog back with one firm hand, placed her shoes side-by-side on the rack, hung up her jean jacket in the front closet and clinked her keys into the basket on the top shelf. She looped the strap of her leather shoulder bag onto a hook. A baleful yellow-eyed glare greeted her from the back corner.

"Wrong-Way Rachel," she panned, with a half grin to the cat. The cat stared back. "We meet again." She cocked a finger like a gunslinger. "You vindictive little feline."

Rachel turned her back, swished her bottlebrush tail, and ignored her. Erin cringed at the plume of Persian cat hair swirling through the closet and closed the slider halfway.

A glimpse of her own reflection in the hallway mirror startled her. Short bangs drooped over her forehead and she ran a hand through them. Dark shadows created semi circles beneath tired eyes and fine lines were beginning to show at the corners. In a few years they might be crow's feet. She backed up and patted her stomach under her golf shirt. At least she was still in good shape.

At twenty-six, she was the youngest officer, and one of the few on Minnesota
's Morley Falls police department without a paunch. She intended to keep it that way. Her compact, wiry build and fast metabolism had not seemed a positive attribute when she was a kid but the benefits kicked in when she reached her twenties. A furry paw nudged her foot and she turned her attention to the warm reception from the dog. She rubbed the retriever's velvety ears.

"It's nice to see you too, Fuzzy Fiona," Erin murmured. Fiona
's muzzle was graying with age, but she still had all the vitality of her younger self. The dog flopped onto her side and lifted a front leg to expose her soft belly.

"Yes, you are so easy!" She laughed and patted Fiona's chest. The dog
's tail beat louder against the hardwood floor.

"Shhh.
You're going to wake your mama."

The dog clambered to her feet and followed her, nose to pant leg, into the kitchen. Despite blindness, Fiona had developed pretty effective ways to get around.

She'd showered before leaving work but Erin still felt dirty inside and out, the stench of smoke and something else less pleasant embedded in her sinuses. She used the plastic bristles of the pot scrubber to scrape the remainder of the black soot from under her fingernails.

Last night
's fatal fire had made it a tough shift. As one of the first responders, she assisted on the initial call. The death of a human being stood out as the worst part of her job, traumatic when it was someone she knew. When the attending detective showed up, she'd been unceremoniously relegated to perimeter security. It distressed her to be shut out, hobbled, and unable to help.

She tried to relax and clear her mind before she went to bed, especially when agitated. The fatal fire wasn
't the only thing troubling her this morning. Everyone at work was on high alert since last month's bust of a biker carrying a quantity of methamphetamine. Since then, there had been more than one anonymous death threat left on members' vehicles behind the station, and calls for upgraded security cameras. She might be a bit protective of her girlfriend, but this was Erin's life, not the life Allie had signed on for. In a town this size, criminals knew who you were and a cop could never let down her guard.

Sighing, she used the
dish cloth to swipe at three dusty footprints on the window ledge. The cat was invisible most of the time but she sure made her presence known.

Fiona watched Erin go about her morning coffee-making routine, tail thumping when she moved between counter and sink. The shiny Italian coffee machine was one of Erin
's few indulgences and she thoroughly enjoyed it. Despite the kitchen's dilapidated appearance, no substandard coffee was served here. Only the very best beans from a specialty roaster in The Cities would do.

Erin chose a mug, her favorite with a big hand-painted flower and perfectly shaped handle, and poured coffee to just under the rim. When she was on night shift, she stuck strictly to decaf. She had enough trouble sleeping and didn't need to add caffeine to the mix. When she brought her mug to the table, Fiona lay on her feet, hot breath steaming the toes of her socks. Those adorable doe eyes and eagerness to please made Fiona infinitely endearing. The dog was growing on her.
The cat, not so much.

One hand on her coffee mug and the other on her iPhone, Erin opened the News App and thumbed through the highlights. Ever since the horrible events of 9/11, when she'd overslept and awoken to a world under siege, she began and ended her day with the news. She rarely missed a thing.

Her ears pricked at muffled cries and a crashing thud upstairs. Allie! The all too familiar sensation of adrenaline knocking on her skull overtook Erin's exhaustion. The dog startled up ramrod straight and froze. For all her virtues, no guard dog was Fiona. Break in? Did the decrepit alarm malfunction? Why didn't Fiona alert earlier?

Because she had learned to think and move, Erin was at the front closet in a few swift strides. She located the off duty pistol in her leather bag, unsnapped it from its concealed holster and palmed the 9 mm SIG Sauer P220 in one fluid motion. Up the stairs in seconds, she operated on instinct. In a half crouch on the balls of her feet, Erin continued down the hall on silent socks. Her nerves wired for sudden movement.

Bathroom: Clear. Guest room: Clear. Windows: Secure. Nothing out of place. No sign of forced entry.

Finally, she approached the master bedroom and toed the door from the side. The window was
open and wooden blinds swayed in the breeze. There was the empty bed, but no sheets, no blanket—and no Allie.

Panic rose in Erin
's throat. She tore the window slats aside. Sunlight stabbed mercilessly into every dark corner. Thumbing the magnetic alarm contact on the window frame, confusion roiled in her gut. Why had the alarm not activated with this security breach? She dove onto her belly and peered under the bed, commando crawling behind the armoire. Nothing but a few dust bunnies. One ear against the oak floorboards, she held her breath to listen. The house was eerily still and only Erin's heart thundered in the silence. An unexpected wave of nausea overtook her and she swallowed hard, her face flushed with the effort.

She lay still and tried to calm her breathing but a faint scrabbling noise sent her vaulting over the mattress. With the Sig 9 mm gripped in her right hand, she covered the hall, semi-barricaded by the doorway. Blood pounded in her ears.

Light padded footsteps approached from below and Fiona's timidly inquisitive muzzle appeared at the top of the stairs. The dog proceeded down the hallway, sniffing the air as she walked. She stopped in front of the linen closet, peered with clouded eyes at Erin, wagged her tail once and lay flat. Nose pressed to the crack beneath the door, the dog emitted a low moan. Erin joined her outside the tiny closet, turned the knob and eased open the door.

Her girlfriend curled in fetal position under the shelves of linens. Erin
's internal panic reached a new crescendo and she touched her arm. Allie's entire body jolted upright and she smacked her head against the shelf. Mewling like a kitten, she thrashed against the tangle of bedding.

* * *

What woke Allie was the smell. Acrid smoke. Burning stench curled evil fingers into her nostrils. Throat constricted by fiery tentacles, she held her breath, eyes screwed tight. Her skin burned with furious intensity and she tried to kick, but found her limbs immobile. She was trapped in the blaze.

The shadowy figure watched excitedly and raised arms to the sky.

She struggled with all the ferocity of a wild animal. Incessant roaring intensified and descended in an incendiary tornado. Lungs ready to burst, she gulped air like the drowning and her tormented body freed itself.

Hell
's inferno opened to devour her.

* * *

"Wake up, baby." Erin's voice cracked.

Allie
's dark brown hair splayed across her face. A trickle of crimson ran the length of her eyebrow, drizzling a bloody streak onto the white fabric of the sheets. Fiona whined and tucked her tail between her hind legs.

Erin dropped the pistol and gathered Allie in her arms. She felt hot. A fine line of moisture beaded her upper lip and she was drenched in sweat. Eyes wide open, she panicked and gulped for air. One hand brushed her bloody eyebrow and she stared blankly at the red smear.

"It's okay. You're okay. It's just me." She whispered soothing words until Allie's movements calmed and her breathing slowed. She tucked her face into Erin's shoulder and Fiona's nose intruded to sniff wetly at her cheek. The dog huffed in relief when she reached out a trembling arm to encircle her. Fiona was apparently more of a comforter than a protector.

"
What's going on? Are you hurt? Are you having a nightmare?" Erin asked. She brushed disheveled hair from her girlfriend's forehead.

"Burning in hell. Burning alive."

Woven in Allie's hair, Erin's fingers froze.

"Watching fire..." Allie whispered. She stared unfocused toward the end of the hallway.

Erin turned to look. Nothing. Tiny hairs prickled the back of her neck.

"Church Lady is gone..." Allie
's whisper trailed off and she sucked in shallow gulps of air. Erin was now thoroughly transfixed.

"Whaddyamean?" It all came out as one word. She made a conscious effort to maintain control. "What-did-you-say?"

Silent for a moment, Allie's breathing changed and tight muscles released. "It's just a nightmare. I'm not crazy, you know," she whispered tersely into the folds of Erin's shirt. She was suddenly awake, aware, and very defensive. She pulled away and met Erin's gaze. Intensity smoldered in her dark eyes. "I'm not!"

"I know. I
'm always on your side, remember?"

Allie kicked clear of the snarled sheets. Startled, Erin and the dog followed her to the bedroom. Fiona wagged her body in a semicircle beside Allie, who balanced evenly on both feet and faced the morning light.

"What happened?" The adrenaline kick Erin had experienced a moment ago was making her lightheaded.

"
It was just a nightmare." Allie closed her eyes and filled her lungs.

"
I was afraid someone had broken in. I could't find you, and the window was open—"

"
It was hot last night. I bypassed that window when I set the alarm."

"
Oh," Erin took a step toward her. "I didn't know you could do that."

"
It's in the alarm interface toolbox." Allie scrunched her eyebrows and stretched to her full five foot nine inches, rolling her shoulders like a fighter. After a few more deep breaths, she shifted gears and made her way out the door.

"Baby, wait!" Erin trailed behind her, snatching a robe from its hook. She caught up to Allie in the hallway.

"You're not going out to slay the dragon in your tightie-whities are you?" Erin grinned. "You'll freak out the neighborhood kids."

Allie grimaced, took the robe and draped it around her white T-shirt and blue polka dot panties.

Erin made more coffee and meticulously buttered two slices of toast in the kitchen. Allie reappeared, her face scrubbed pink and her long hair tied back in a tight ponytail. A small skin-colored Band-Aid covered the corner of her eyebrow and she'd dabbed makeup on the red scrape. Dressed in jeans and black T-shirt with a little red maple leaf in the center, Allie's svelte physique made casual look hot. She was absolutely refreshed. Like someone had punched the restart button on her day.

Fiona head-bumped Allie on the thigh and she opened the back door to let her out. Erin marveled at the blind dog unerringly picking her way down the steps to the yard, nose to ground. Allie sat in a kitchen chair, Android phone in hand, scrolling through her Facebook page. Wrong-Way Rachel appeared and wove a tight figure eight around their legs. The three-legged cat nimbly launched herself
onto the table and swished her tail in Allie's face. She reached two fingers out to smooth Rachel's whiskers, which delighted the cat into making a happy chirping noise.

"The cat—" Erin sputtered, "on the table—"

"Sorry hon. You're right. We'll get the hang of this." Allie lifted Rachel and set her on the floor. A light dusting of feline hair marked the spot where she had been and Allie sheepishly swatted at it. With a twitch of her tail, and no farewell, the cat exited for her latest hiding place. Allie resumed browsing on her Android. Her expression was positively serene. Like Buddha.