Tag: thriller

  • Week 209 – Eat!

    “I’m not sure I can think of anything else,” Becca said, rubbing at her temples where another headache was starting to pound. They’d spent all day going through every single thing she could remember about her cousin, and anyplace she could think of that her brother might go if he had to disappear.

    Now she was exhausted.

    Her head hurt, her wrist hurt, she could barely summon enough energy to breathe let alone to think of anything else that might be helpful to Walt and Coop’s case.

    Walt and Coop, yep, apparently she now thought of the two men trying to arrest her brother for multiple murders by their first names.

    Mistake.

    “Here.”

    The gruff voice made her open her eyes and she saw a plate of spaghetti had been set on the table before her. They were back at her brother’s house where they’d been for most of the day but the idea of eating made her feel ill.

    “I don’t think so,” Becca said, making a face at what was usually her favorite meal.

    “You haven’t eaten at all today, its late, you need to have something,” Walt told her, standing beside her chair with his arms crossed over his chest.

    “What time is it?”

    “Nearly nine, don’t change the subject, I don’t know when you last ate yesterday but you haven’t eaten in at least twenty-four hours.”

    “I’m not hungry,” she said.

    “Doesn’t matter, your body needs fuel so you eat.”

    “No.”

    “Eat!”

    The word exploded out of Walt’s mouth with a ferocity that would have startled her if she could think of anything other than how badly she wanted to kiss him.

    It was crazy.

    Stupid.

    Definitely went against everything she usually stood for and yet the desire to kiss this grouchy, grump, gruff cop was unlike anything she had experienced.

    Apparently he flew the same way because his large hands curled around her biceps, pulling her out of her chair and up against him.

    “You better say something now if you don’t want this,” he growled.

    Becca said nothing, because she did want this.

    More than she should.

    Walt scooped her up, his lips crashed down on hers as he carried her up the stairs and to the bedroom where he had found her last night.

    Was it only last night?

    How could she be kissing a man she’d known for such a short time like her life depended on it?

    In the bedroom he laid her down with a surprising gentleness and then his body was stretched out over hers and he was kissing her again and touching her through her clothes.

    It wasn’t enough.

    She needed more. Needed him closer. Needed to feel his skin against hers.

    Walt obviously felt the same way because his hands went to the waistband of her sweatpants, his lips never leaving hers.

    As bad an idea as sleeping with this man was there was nothing in the world that was going to make her stop.

    At least that was what she thought.

    But then there was a loud crash and the lights went out. A second later they heard the sound of breaking glass.

  • Week 208 – Well that was unexpected

    “You sure you want to do this now?” Walt asked as he led Becca into an interview room. He’d taken her to the hospital, despite her protests, she’d had x-rays, which thankfully showed her arm was just bruised and not broken, and then she had insisted on coming down here to find out about her brother’s case.

    “Of course I want to do it now,” she said with an eye roll.

    “Can I get you something to drink? Eat?” he asked the stubborn woman who’s soft lips he couldn’t get out of his mind.

    Kissing her had been stupid.

    A mistake.

    Clearly an abuse of his position as a homicide detective over a woman he’d cuffed and very nearly arrested.

    Didn’t mean he regretted it though.

    “Water, I guess,” she said. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was pale, but there was a fire in her eyes that said she was stronger than he had originally given her credit for.

    Leaving her in the room, Walt went to get her water. His partner was waiting outside the door, three bottles of water in his hands.

    “Well that was unexpected,” Cooper said.

    “What was?” Walt asked, frowning at his friend.

    “Everything, the sister being there, Brody being gone, a mention of this cousin, Becca coming here to help us, you kissing her,” Cooper finished with a waggle of his eyebrows.

    Throwing a glare at Coop, he snatched a bottle of water from his hand and barrelled back into the interview room to find Becca rubbing her temples.

    “You got a headache, Bec?” Cooper asked, breezing in behind him.

    “Yeah, I do,” she said, offering Cooper a smile. The two of them had been chattering and laughing the whole time at the hospital and the drive back here while Walt had sat there and seethed. Cooper was the fun one, the personable one, the charming one, he on the other hand wouldn’t recognise charm if it came up and bit him on the backside.

    “I’ll grab you some painkillers,” Cooper offered.

    “Thanks, Coop.” The smile Becca gave Cooper was warm and genuine and Walt couldn’t help but wish she would smile at him like that.

    At least she’d kissed him back.

    A kiss he wouldn’t mind repeating.

    Over and over again.

    “We should get started,” he said briskly, sitting down at the table. “Last chance, you sure you’re ready to know exactly what we thought your brother did or you want to back out. And I warn you once you learn this you can’t unlearn it.”

    Becca swallowed audibly but nodded. “I know my brother, Brody would never kill anyone, I want to help you prove that.”

    She was brave, he’d give her that, she’d fought to defend herself against what she thought was intruders, and she was sitting here now even though she was clearly scared, ready to do whatever she could to help her brother. He sure hoped Brody deserved that kind of loyalty.

    “So far we have six bodies, all women in their early to mid twenties, all intelligent with good jobs, all beautiful, all cut into pieces and left at various locations around the city.”

    “Cut into pieces?” Becca gasped, her eyes going wide. Then she pressed a hand to her mouth. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

    “You can’t just be blurting stuff like that out, dude,” Cooper said as he entered the room and set a bottle of painkillers on the table in front of Becca.

    “She wanted to know,” he protested, this wasn’t his idea it was Becca’s.

    “Tact, man,” Cooper said, rolling his eyes. “Here you go, sweetheart, take these pills for your headache, you should have taken what the doctor at the hospital offered.” Cooper placed a hand on Becca’s shoulder and Walt found himself wanting to rip his partner’s hand clear off.

    “Yeah, I should have, thought I could tough it out,” Becca said as she swallowed the pills along with the water. “Can I ask a couple of questions?”

    “Of course,” he said, that was why she was here after all, to convince them it was her cousin and not her brother they were looking for.

    “The women were they blonde?”

    “They were,” Walt replied.

    “Blue eyes?”

    “Yes.”

    “Tall?”

    “The … uh … body parts … were they found at … at schools or universities?”

    His eyes narrowed, how had she figured that out. His gut said this woman had nothing to do with the murders, but for someone uninvolved she certainly had a lot of the details. Details that hadn’t been released to the public.

    “How did you know that, Bec?” Cooper asked, much more gently than he would have asked the same question.

    Huge eyes stared up at them. “Benjy once said to me that a, to quote him, red-headed midget, he’d teach my stuck-up self a lesson. Said I thought I was so smart, that I was better than him, he told me I needed taking down a peg or two. I just thought since he liked tall blondes they would be the kind of women he would ask out, and if the thought they were smarter than him that he might … you know … do what he threatened to do to me,” she finished with a gulp.

    The idea of anyone laying a hand on Becca Sharp was so abhorrent to him that Walt actually felt his heart rate accelerate.

    “Three of our six victims were last seen with a man matching Brody’s description, the last was with a man who called himself Brody,” Walt informed her.

    “It was Benjy, he and Brody used to switch places all the time when they were little, before Benjy changed.”

    “What happened to make him change?” Walt asked.

    “He was in a car accident, received a traumatic brain injury, he was never the same after that. I told them, my parents, his parents, our grandparents, that something wasn’t right with him but they didn’t believe me. They only saw what they wanted to see but I knew the truth. I saw the real Benjy.”

    Something in the way she said that had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. “Becca, did your cousin ever hurt you.”

    Her yellowy brown eyes met his directly as she said the word that made his stomach drop. “Yes.”

    “Why?” he asked.

    She shrugged. “I was in the car too. I walked away from the accident without a scratch, he nearly died, said it wasn’t fair. He hates me.”

    If that was true, and he had no reason to doubt it, then this beautiful, brave woman sitting before him could be their killer’s real target.

  • Week 207 – I cant believe you want my brother show me a picture

    Becca felt the fight drain out of her, her wrist ached, a headache was building behind her eyes, and she suddenly felt exhausted. All she wanted to do was climb back into bed and sleep and hope all of this had disappeared when she woke up.

    No.

    She couldn’t do that.

    Brody had never once given up on her no matter how hard things had been. No matter how hard she had made things.

    Forcing herself to dig for strength she wasn’t sure she had, Becca straightened and carefully pulled her wrist out of Detective Berman’s surprisingly gentle grip. “I cant believe you want my brother show me a picture.”

    “A picture?” Detective Berman asked, his gray eyes crinkled as he tried to figure out what she meant.

    “A picture, a video, whatever it is that makes you think my brother is a killer,” she clarified.

    “You really have a cousin who looks just like your brother?”

    “Yes, his name is Benjy Sharp. He’s …” she trailed off and shuddered, she’d never liked Benjy but no one had ever listened to her. “Take me down to the station, show me why you think Brody is your killer.”

    Detective Berman shook his head. “Tell me where your brother is so I can bring him in and I’ll look into the cousin angle.”

    “No. Show me what you have on my brother then I’ll help you find out where he is.”

    “I could arrest you for obstruction, if you know where he is and don’t tell me you could be looking at accessory charges as well.”

    Becca narrowed her eyes at him and tilted her head back to meet his gaze. “You can’t bully me into doing what you want. I don’t know where Brody is, he never showed up to pick me up at the airport, I had to take a cab here. I sent him a bunch of messages but he never replied.”

    He glared at her.

    She glared at him.

    Then her gaze dropped to his mouth. He had nice lips, she’d never thought that about a man before but all she could think about was kissing him.

    Detective Berman leaned in close so those lips were right above her ear. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to kiss you.”

    Becca gasped. She couldn’t kiss this man, he’d terrified her, hurt her, and was convinced her brother was a killer, and yet she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his mouth.

    “I warned you,” he whispered, and then his lips were on hers and he was kissing her.

    What shocked her was that she melted into his arms and kissed him back.

  • Week 206 – My brother? Are you sure it’s not his cousin you want? They’re practically identical twins.

    Walt watched as the tiny woman in front of him stared at him in shock, processing what he’d just told her.

    He was annoyed that they hadn’t known she would be here, annoyed with her for trying to knock him out with a lamp, annoyed with himself because he could tell from the way she tenderly rubbed her wrist that he’d hurt her. He’d thought it was her brother trying to attack him and used an appropriate amount of force to take down a two hundred pound man, but for this tiny little thing he was hoping he hadn’t broken her arm.

    Becca Sharp eyed him like he was an idiot. She was barely five feet tall, she had a mane of fiery red hair, yellowy brown eyes that were framed by bright red lashes that made it look like flames were leaping right out of them.

    “You think Brody killed someone?” she demanded. “Brody? My brother who cried for a month when some irresponsible pet owner didn’t have their dog on a leash and it chased a ball onto the road and Brody hit it with his car? My brother who volunteers at a children’s palliative care house to try to cheer up dying children? My brother who fosters rescue dogs and helps rehabilitate them? My brother who helps build houses for Habitat for Humanity? He killed someone, is that what you’re saying? Really?” She poked him in the chest with more force than he’d thought her tiny body capable of.

    Walt couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of this little thing poking a police officer who had to outweigh her by over a hundred pounds and had over a foot of height on her. Not to mention he’d just had her in handcuffs and could certainly put them back on her and drag her down to the station for assaulting a police officer.

    Or cuff her to the bed and have hot sex.

    The idea surprised him and he quickly shoved it away, reminding himself why he was here. These murders were certainly no laughing matter and sex with the suspect’s sister was a ludicrous idea.

    “Are you laughing at me?” she growled. Then she stepped back and sagged against the wall as all the fight apparently drained out of her.

    “Let me see your arm,” he said, holding out his hand.

    “No.” She pulled her sore arm against her chest, protecting it with her other hand.

    “Let me see it,” he repeated, if she didn’t he’d call an ambulance and hope that she didn’t file police brutality charges against him.

    “I said no.” She glowered at him but he could see the fear and the pain lingering in her amber eyes, as the adrenalin started to drain from her system leaving her exhausted and shaky.

    “Let me see it, honey.” This time he gently took her small wrist in his hand and carefully probed it, watching her wince and chew on her bottom lip. “You should get this x-rayed. I’m sorry, if I’d known it wasn’t our suspect in here I would have reacted differently.”

    She looked surprised at his apology, and well she should be, he was well known for never admitting he was wrong let alone apologising. “My brother? Are you sure it’s not his cousin you want? They’re practically identical twins,” she said.

    His gaze sharpened. A cousin? Was it possible they were after the wrong man? If they were they needed to track down Brody and this cousin, because one thing was certain he did not want to attend another murder scene where a young woman had been hacked into pieces. Whoever the killer was they needed to get him off the streets and fast.

  • Week 205 – It’s almost time

    Something went bump in the quiet house, jolting Becca from sleep.

    What was that?

    Was she dreaming?

    She sat up, clutching the covers close to her chin and sat perfectly still, ears straining to hear through the quiet night.

    Just as she was about to give up and assume she had dreamed the sound she heard it again. Thumps like someone was trying to quietly make their way up the stairs.

    Someone had broken in.

    Panicked she clambered from the bed, her wild gaze searching the bedroom for anything she could use as a weapon. The lamp on the nightstand appeared to be the best she could do so she quickly unplugged it and scrambled over to stand by the door, ready to hit the intruder over the head the second they came through the door.

    “Its almost time,” she whispered under her breath.

    The seconds seemed to tick by with excruciating slowness, but then she heard it. Someone stopped outside the door, the handle jiggled, before the door was slowly eased open.

    Becca swung the lamp but the intruder grabbed her wrist and slammed her up against the wall. The lamp was ripped from her hand and tossed to land uselessly on the bed and she was spun around a pair of handcuffs secured around her wrists.

    “I got one,” he yelled out and panic had her heart trying to race right out of her chest. There were two of them?

    The light switched on as another person entered the room and she was spun around to find a huge man with an angry scowl staring at her.

    “Who are you?” he demanded.

    “Who are you?” she shot back.

    “Detective Walt Berman,” he replied, flashing a badge her way.

    Her mouth hung open.

    A cop?

    What was he doing here?

    “What are you doing here?” he asked, echoing her thoughts.

    “I was trying to sleep,” she snapped, irritated now that she knew she wasn’t in danger of being raped and murdered. “Why are you here?”

    “Who are you?” he asked, ignoring her question.

    “I’m Becca Sharp, I arrived here at my brother’s house earlier this evening, I’m here on vacation.” When he arched a brow she nodded her head behind him. “My suitcase is right over there, my ticket on the dresser, all I did when I got here was take a shower and go to bed.”

    The other man checked out her story and nodded to the man standing in front of her. “Story checks out, her suitcase is here, and there’s a ticket with her name on it, along with her purse, driver’s license confirms her name and that she’s from out of state.”

    Now it was her turn to arch a brow at the man standing over her. She lifted her shoulders, “Care to take these off now?” she asked, her voice haughty. “And tell me why you’re breaking into my brother’s house in the middle of the night.”

    Detective Walt Berman turned her around and undid the cuffs, then while she rubbed at her wrists he met her gaze squarely. “Your brother is wanted for murder.”