Page 3 of You Can Make Me
“Drop your weapon!”
Oh God. Detective Dennis Hamilton. He was here. The one person I’d been terrified of seeing again, and the one I knew could make all this stop.
“Aw, man. We’re out of time, Mr. Troubadour. I hoped to take my time with you.”
“Stop! Let him go.” Not Denny or Gene. Detective Muse, maybe?
“Too late for him. The pretty man was a nice surprise. He was taking pictures when I moseyed on up and introduced him to my knives. We’ve had some fun. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to watch your pain as I spilled this one’s blood, Detective.”
He jerked my collar, lifting my upper body off the ground, and my head throbbed. “This’ll have to be enough. Sorry we didn’t get to share more time, Dee Dee. I’ll see you again. Next time around.” The man laughed and the sound was…maniacal.
“Drop the knife!”
My shoulders and head hit the ground and four loud cracks split the air. A thud sounded to the right of me as my attacker fell to his knees, and then I heard shouting.
“I’m…free,” my attacker croaked in a whisper as he collapsed onto the ground. The last thing I saw was him bleeding from his throat.
Time seemed to stop as agony overwhelmed me. And cold. So cold. Everything sounded as if I was sinking underwater; garbled voices were muffled.
“Walter! Get an ambulance! Oh God!”
Denny. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
“He doesn’t have time. He needs Life Flight.”
Someone else was there. Multiple hands pressed on me, which I knew should hurt, but I’d moved beyond pain. Strong arms lifted my shoulders and then I was pressed against warmth. My sinuses filled with that scent I’d come to crave. I’d come to love.
“Come on, baby. Hold on. Come on. Walter!I need help!”
I should have listened.
“Where’s that fucking helicopter!”
As I took my last gasping breaths, I opened my eyes and tried to memorize his face.
“Denny.”I’m sorry.
One
Denny
Four and a half months later…
I juggled the grocery bags in one arm as I punched in the code on the front door of our mountain hideaway. It was in a secure location, away from prying eyes, and it provided a breathtaking view of the high desert while being shaded by enough trees that it never got unbearably hot. It was rustic—there were few creature comforts like a dishwasher or laundry on site—but it was safe, and that was the factor that topped my list when I’d found it in a Facebook group for current and former Kern County Sheriffs employees.
Usually that group was only good for birthday wishes, birth announcements, retirement notifications, and celebration of life invitations, but there was a thread for folks seeking and renting vacation homes, which, in Kern County, often amounted to hunting or fishing cabins, with the occasional AirBnB placesnear wine-tasting spots. This one was the former, in the Kern River Valley on the river near Lake Isabella.
Madonna blasted from the main room of the house, and I shook my head. The folks who owned this place had left behind an old stereo and cassettes. The music choices were from the late ’70s and ’80s, with quite a few I listened to as a kid, but my charge leaned toward the pop divas. Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Tina Turner. I wondered what the attraction was for someone so much younger but hadn’t worked up the nerve to ask him yet. Being shut down with the nonverbal treatment was more than I could take most days.
“I brought you a sandwich, and I picked up more of that hummus you like from the Greek deli.” Shopping was an event, living this far from a major town, but I didn’t mind it. I only hated being away for too long. I worried constantly. I’d worried so much that what was left of my dark hair was now almost completely silver. Even my scruff when it grew in was nearly white. I hadn’t slept a full night since we came here either. Dreams woke me, or the dreams of my charge sent me running from the couch.
My charge.
I didn’t know what else to call him.
“I got you more of those steno notebooks like you asked, too, and a new printer. Let’s hope this one works. I talked to the guy at the AT&T store this time, and he had no fucking clue how to get better internet out here. I’m going to look into a hotspot…”
I trailed off as I stepped through the kitchen door to the great room and found him standing in front of the window wrapped in a blanket, just staring off into space.
