Revelations, p.22
Revelations, page 22
“Come here,” he said, and drew her back against him. Why he was still generating heat and she wasn’t, Ann didn’t know, but he felt really, really good. He wrapped his arms around her, and they stood there in silence. After a minute, she realized she was still rigid, and she made herself relax, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.
She wasn’t hungry anymore, she wasn’t bored, she wasn’t cold. His body felt so good against hers. Strong. Warm. She could feel his heart beating. Or maybe it was hers. Or theirs, mingled.
She felt his penis becoming erect. What strength her legs had left deserted them. Her body seemed able to generate heat, after all, pooled in her belly. Her breathing became shallow, fast. She heard herself make a shuddery sound.
He turned his head so that his mouth was against her hair. One of his hands, splayed on her stomach, moved. Inched up, until the weight of her breast rested on it.
She made another little sound. A gasp.
He rolled his hand, so that it cupped her breast. Then he gently squeezed, rubbed, teased. Meantime he nuzzled first her hair, then her neck. She felt weak, deliciously helpless. She never wanted him to stop touching her.
But he froze suddenly, going rigid against her back. Then she heard it, too: the faintest crunch of gravel on the other side of the wall. She quit breathing, and thought he did, too. His hand still on her breast, his erection still pressed against her rump, but both strained to hear.
Another crunch. A dog? A cat exploring the wood-pile she remembered being stacked against the garage wall?
But then something blocked the meager light coming in the window. The purple of dusk darkened, as if a shadow had reached in. Diaz’s fingers curled, giving away his tension.
The next second, the shadow passed from in front of the window, and they heard the same faint crunch, crunch, going back toward the street.
“Damn, I’d like to go after him,” Diaz murmured into her ear.
“It might have been a neighbor looking for a cat that didn’t come home for dinner,” she whispered.
He gave a soft snort of disbelief. She didn’t argue. The shadow had felt…malevolent. The neighbor wouldn’t have stopped to peer into the garage.
No, like Diaz, she believed the killer was checking to be sure he wasn’t being set up. They might have slipped unseen through the backyard, but he might just as well have been watching for them to do that.
Diaz’s hands fell away from her. “Let’s get out of here. Now.”
She nodded agreement, although she felt bereft. She stepped away, passed the darker bulk of a workbench and stopped at the door that led directly into the backyard. Feeling Diaz behind her, she opened it soundlessly, pressed the button to lock it again and slipped through. He closed it as quietly, then led the way across the lawn to the back fence, where Reggie had left an oak whiskey half barrel upended. The grip of Diaz’s hands conveyed his urgency as he hoisted her onto the barrel, then boosted her to the top of the fence. She took a look to be sure the neighbors weren’t barbecuing on their patio, then swung both feet over and dropped to the other side. With a soft thud, Diaz landed beside her.
Down the block, the damn dog started to bay.
“Crap,” Diaz muttered. He seemed to vanish into the night.
Ann followed, watching her footing and finally reaching the front corner of the house, where she bumped into Diaz. His head turned as he scanned the street.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, and they hurried to the sidewalk and the car they’d left parked at the curb a couple of doors down.
Once in it, Diaz started the engine and drove away without delay, turning at the corner away from Reggie’s house.
“Well, well,” he said in his normal voice, “that was interesting.”
Which part? she wanted to ask. The part where you groped me? Or the part where the bad guy peeked in the window?
“It gives me hope for tomorrow,” she agreed. As if she’d forgotten those few minutes that had turned her knees to jelly.
“Cautious bugger,” Diaz commented, in that same tone that suggested they were taking up the conversation left off this morning, with nothing of moment having happened in between.
“He must have been in one of those cars that passed.”
“Yeah, I wish I could have gotten a better look at them.” He glanced at her. “Did you do any better?”
She shook her head. “I could take a pretty good guess at some makes and colors, but no license plates.”
“Damn it,” he grumbled. “If one of us had been parked down the street…”
“You don’t think he’s driving his own car?” she scoffed.
“No, but we might have recognized him behind the wheel.”
She shrugged. “We still have to wait for him to make his move. We have to catch him in the act.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sounded like she’d let the air out of his balloon and he wasn’t happy about it.
She spotted a Burger King ahead and her stomach growled.
“That a hint?”
She flushed in embarrassment, glad it was dark. “I can wait until I get home.”
“I can’t. Let’s just drive through.”
She pulled out the bills she’d stashed in her pocket and told him what to order. When the clerk handed over the drinks, Ann slurped at her milk shake before Diaz had even reached for the paper bag holding the burgers and fries.
As he pulled away from the window, Diaz stuck his hand in a bag. “At least you had peanuts.”
So he had noticed her, at least a little. Puncturing her own moment of pleasure, she figured it was probably because she’d crunched too loudly.
“Your fault if you didn’t,” she told him, and took a big, satisfying bite of cheeseburger.
Eating saved them from having to talk. She was wadding up their garbage and stuffing it all in one sack when he pulled up in front of her complex.
“I want to get there at the crack of dawn tomorrow,” Diaz said. “In case he’s watching for us. Say, six?”
She nodded and opened the car door. “See you in the morning.”
He lifted a hand and drove away without waiting until she got in her front door, the way he usually did.
Maybe that was why her apartment felt even lonelier than usual.
THE SKY was barely light when they parked in the exact same spot and stole through the yards to Roarke’s back door. Diaz rapped, and a surly Reggie opened up. He wore pajamas.
“I’m going back to bed,” he growled, and disappeared into the house.
Diaz held open the door, and they went in, too. The warmth of the house was welcome after the dank chill of the garage. “We can lurk in the laundry room,” he said softly. “Mary put on coffee for us.”
Having only had a quick bowl of Cheerios, Ann thought coffee sounded like manna.
She sat on the vinyl floor of the laundry room with her back against the washer and her legs outstretched while Diaz went to the kitchen and poured them both cups of coffee. She nodded her thanks when he handed it to her.
Remembering yesterday’s obsession with peeing, Ann made herself take small sips. Even so, the warmth spread from inside.
Appearing preoccupied, Diaz did the same. Neither spoke. Ann yawned, glanced at her watch and wondered how late Reggie planned to sleep.
An hour crawled by. Ann folded her arms on her knees, laid her cheek on her forearms, and let herself slip into a half doze. This wasn’t the Hilton, but it was a heck of a lot more comfortable than her rafter.
She awakened to the sound of voices in the kitchen. She had listed sideways, and her head, she realized, now rested against Diaz’s shoulder. Ann sat up abruptly and mumbled, “Sorry.”
He smiled at her. “You snore.”
“I do not!”
“How would you know?” he asked logically enough.
“Somebody would have told me.”
Diaz’s smile widened. “Okay. You take very, very deep breaths.”
“Hmph.” She sniffed, her eyes widening in outrage. “Are they having bacon and eggs for breakfast?”
“You could have fried some bacon at home.”
“Yeah. Right. At five-thirty in the morning. I was lucky to find my way to the kitchen.” She sighed. “That does smell good.”
Diaz, who seemed to be in an exceptionally good mood, patted her cheek. “That’s one of the things I always liked about you. You enjoy your food.”
“Oh, good. I’m a pig. Is that what you’re saying?”
“It was a compliment.”
“‘Your eyes are the color of the sky at twilight.’ That’s a compliment,” she snapped. “‘You’re a good eater’ is not.”
She hadn’t fazed him. He smiled at Mary, who appeared in the laundry room doorway with two plates in her hands. “Is that for us? You’re a sweetheart. Caldwell here was just getting grumpy. Some food’ll sweeten her.”
“Oh, I so wish you’d come sit at the table!” Mary fussed. “I hate to think anybody is spying on us.”
“It’s not a pleasant thought,” Diaz agreed. “Maybe today will be the end of it.”
Ann thanked Mary and dug in to the heap of fluffy scrambled eggs. Bacon, perfectly browned, rimmed the plate.
Diaz, she noticed, ate with the same concentration and pleasure but skipped the bacon despite the fact that he had a bigger frame and was five or six inches taller than she was. Did he have to flaunt his discipline? Feeling like a pig again, Ann hesitated, then in a spirit of defiance ate the last strip of bacon anyway.
Ann and he took turns using the bathroom, then went back to the garage. Once again, Ann climbed up first with her bottle of water. As Diaz carried the ladder to his side of the garage and mounted it, she peered through the slits.
Nada. Empty driveway, empty street. Quiet neighborhood. No mowers fired up yet. On a Sunday morning, half the people probably were getting ready for church.
Church, they had decided, would be the perfect excuse for Mary to leave the house. Half an hour later, Reggie came out to the garage, hung up the ladder, donned his coveralls and rolled up the garage door. As ordered, his wife came out the front door in a simple dress, her purse gripped with tight knuckles in front of her.
“Are you sure you won’t come to church with me?” she asked too loudly. “I can wait for you.”
Ann winced. Mary wasn’t much of an actress.
“Nah.” Her husband chose a wrench from a drawer in his rolling cart. “You go ahead. The Lord’ll understand.”
“Well, then,” Mary told the entire block, “I’ll probably go grocery shopping afterward.”
“You go on then.” He lay down on the creeper.
She gave him a despairing look, then marched down the driveway to her car. Ann, watching, realized Mary was near to tears. She was scared for the jerk. She must actually love him. Ann shook her head. Imagine that.
The neighborhood gradually came to life, cars coming and going. Then quiet settled again.
Now, Ann thought. Now is when I’d do it.
As if on cue, a hooded figure stepped into the garage right below Ann.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DIAZ WAS WATCHING a car backing out of a driveway a couple of houses down when movement brought his head around. A man in a hooded sweatsuit had sidled into the garage. Frozen in his crouch, Diaz felt adrenaline kick in.
A neighbor? Diaz kinda doubted it. There was the hood, shielding the face. Anyway, neighbors walked up the driveway, calling hello as they came. This visitor had to have slipped around the side of the house.
The ogre he’d only half believed in was real and had taken the bait.
Diaz lifted his gaze briefly to Ann. Their eyes met, then both watched the visitor go deeper into the garage. His head turned from side to side as he scanned the interior.
Under the car, Reggie hummed off-key. Weirdly, Diaz would have sworn the tune was Santa Claus Is Coming to Town. The paranoid’s anthem.
The figure paused. His head swung back toward the garage door opening. A sound? Diaz quit breathing. Don’t look up, don’t look up.
After a moment, apparently reassured, the intruder continued on silent feet to the passenger side of the Corvette. He laid gloved hands on the frame and shoved. Once, then again.
“Hey!” Reggie shouted from under the car. His feet kicked as he tried to backpedal. “Goddamn!”
The car shuddered and rocked.
Diaz snatched his gun from the holster, braced his elbow on his thigh and yelled, “Freeze! This is the police! Take your hands off the car!”
For a heartbeat, the guy went still. Weighing his options. Ten feet to the open garage door. Would the cop really fire? Then he bolted, and in the same moment Ann leaped from the rafter and crashed down on him. They disappeared behind the front end of the vehicle.
Diaz holstered his gun and jumped, too, landing with painful force. He fell, rolled and regained his feet, pulling his weapon again. Behind him, Reggie had made it out from under the car and jumped from the creeper.
“Freeze, you son of a bitch!” Diaz yelled as he came around the front end of the Corvette.
Ann and the perp fought silently. He slammed her head against the concrete floor, but she kneed him and he buckled. In an instant they’d flipped, and she was on top, his gloved hands at her throat. She was yelling at him, Diaz was yelling, and with a bellow of rage Reggie knocked her aside and flattened the bastard.
His “Try to kill me, will you” was followed by a string of obscenities.
Ann crawled back to her foe, pulling cuffs from her back pocket. She snapped one on, then the other as Reggie rolled the perp and wrenched his arm behind his back.
Cheek grinding into the concrete, he lay belly-down, the hood still on his head. Diaz had seen his face and was unsurprised when Reggie yanked the hood down.
“I know you,” he said.
Oblivious to the blood matting the back of her head, Ann stood over him. “Moskowitz.”
Deidre Moskowitz’s father closed his eyes.
Diaz lowered his weapon. “You’re under arrest for the attempted murder of Reggie Roarke. You have the right to remain silent,” he began. As he finished reciting the Miranda warning, he kept an eye on Ann. She looked like hell.
“Sit,” he ordered her.
Without taking her eyes from Moskowitz, she slid to a sitting position, her back to the front fender of the car.
Diaz ordered Reggie to call for backup and medics. He’d seen Ann’s head bounce off concrete. While they waited, he crouched beside her. “You okay? Stay with me.”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” Her face was bleached to the color of skim milk.
“No, you’re not. Goddamn it, where are they?”
“Reggie just called,” she murmured.
Fear grabbed him. “Maybe I should drive you to the hospital.”
She turned her head a fraction to meet his eyes. “I’ve got a headache. Don’t shout in my ear.”
He could tell she was trying to sound tart. The fact that she failed scared him worse.
“I should have been on that side of the garage.”
“Yeah, you should.”
Reggie, back from phoning, had one foot planted on Moskowitz’s back. “You scumbag, why were you trying to kill me?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Moskowitz mumbled. “I want a lawyer.”
“Oh, you’ll get one, you piece of shit.”
Ann was back to staring at their suspect. “You killed my father.”
He rolled an eye toward her. “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“Sergeant Michael Caldwell. Remember him? He was my dad.”
Moskowitz turned his head away.
Ann didn’t seem to be in the mood for conversation. Once she lifted a hand and touched the back of her head, wincing at the light contact.
“You dizzy? Sick to your stomach?” Diaz asked.
“I’m okay,” she kept saying. Until suddenly, in a strangled voice, she said, “I wish I hadn’t eaten those scrambled eggs.”
Reggie grabbed for an oil pan and thrust it onto her lap. She puked, confirming Diaz’s fear that she had a concussion if not worse.
A squad car arrived first, lights flashing and siren singing. The aide car was on its bumper. Diaz was vaguely aware of neighbors gathering as the uniforms jumped out and the medics pulled a gurney from the back of the ambulance.
Diaz flashed his badge. “Take this scumbag in. Detective Caldwell is hurt. I’m going to follow her to the hospital.”
They yanked Moskowitz to his feet and led him, head hanging, down the driveway to the unit.
The medics asked Ann questions, then had her lie down on the gurney against her protests. Diaz walked beside her down the driveway, his hand resting on the gurney beside hers. Just as they reached the gaping back of the ambulance, she turned her hand and gripped his.
Her eyes were big and scared. “Are you coming?”
“I’ll beat you there.”
She licked her lips. “Okay.” She let go of his hand and closed her eyes.
The medics lifted her into the rear of the aide car and closed the door.
“Want me to come with you?” Reggie asked.
Diaz shook his head. “Will you call O’Brien at home? Tell him what happened? You’ll need to write up a report, too, but I don’t see why it can’t wait until tomorrow. Hey, this is your day off, right?”
Reggie gave a weak grin. “Hell, maybe I’ll take Mary out for Sunday dinner.”
Diaz slapped him on the back. “You do that.”
He followed the aide car to the hospital, pulling ahead a few blocks before they arrived so that he was waiting at the curb when Ann was lifted out.
His heart gave a thud at the sight of her, lying still as death, her eyes closed and her face waxy pale. He grabbed her hand and squeezed, and her lashes fluttered up.
“Hey,” she said, her mouth twisting into a semblance of a smile.
“Hey.” He grinned at her. “You know, I think our cover is blown. Holding hands in front of the whole world.”
“Wanna climb on the gurney with her?” one of the EMTs asked.
