“Willows, you good?” Detective Brady Kruznov raised his eyebrows at me and frowned. “You look like you’re going to pass out.”
Swallowing my anger at myself, I slowly sucked in a breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out. “Fine. Just feeling a little nauseous. I told you that chili dog didn’t smell right.”
“Then why’d you eat it? No one made you.” The wide, blonde man shook his head at me and nodded towards the row of houses. “The lead on the floater could get us somewhere. This asshole, Daniels, swears he saw Smith Shaw down at the Bay Docks last week, carrying something heavy.”
I braced myself against the side of the car and frowned. “And he just happened to remember this little bit of information this morning and wanted to chat?”
Kruznov pulled his ill-fitting pants up higher and marched closer to me. “Fuck, Willows. You going to get your shit together and come in here with me or what?”
I took a few more deep breaths and forced my back to straighten. A forever present throb of pain flittered across my side and I suddenly felt like getting in my car and leaving. I’d felt that way more than I wanted to admit to even myself. Not that I’d ever admit it to anyone else.
Panic had become my base line and I growled at myself when it flared even higher. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”
Each step towards the small pale blue house felt like torture. My body was in flight mode, but my mind wouldn’t allow that. I forced myself forward, keeping my face neutral. “So? Why’d Daniels just decide to come forward today?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” Kruznov shot me a dark look and shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck the captain was thinking, putting us together.”
I stopped walking and glared at the shorter man. Feeling the anger that’d been boiling up for days, since Captain Ramsey informed me of the change, I turned it on my new partner. “I don’t, either. I can assure you, it wasn’t my idea to work with you. You’re an asshole on the best day, Kruz, and on the worst? I’ve heard more than one ex-partner of yours mention wanting to shoot you more than the bad guys.”
He shrugged it off. “Is that all you’ve got? You used to be able to cut a man down with just a look, Willows. Doesn’t seem like you’ve got much fuel behind that fire these days.”
And wasn’t that just the truth. Already, my anger fizzled out and in its place was just…heaviness. I sighed. “Fuck you.”
He laughed, bitterly. “Exactly. Jesus, you shouldn’t be back out here. With everything that’s happening, it’s fucking obvious that you need to be in counseling or some shit. Not out here, waving a gun around with your crazy ass.”
Too close to the truth, I growled before lashing out. Landing a kick to the side of his knee, I threw my weight on him while he was toppling over. I grab his arms and yanked them back while digging my knees into his meaty back. My side screamed in pain and my heart raced, but I’d taken down the threat.
Shaking my head, I told myself he wasn’t actually a threat and cursed. Instead of admitting that I’d snapped, I lowered my mouth closer to his ear and hissed out my words. “Watch your fucking mouth. You know nothing.”
Kruznov violently thrashed against my hold and labored to his feet when I let him go. Face red, he put his hand on his gun and glared at me. “I should do the force a favor and just put you out of your misery.”
“Try it.” Worse men had tried. Yet, there I stood. Mostly.
Turning from me, he shrugged and rotated his arms. “Let’s just get this fucking done. How about that? How about we do our job and not talk to each other?”
I shrugged, pulling back on the mask that hid the real panic I still felt. While fighting with him had been a nice distraction, the chokehold the anxiety had on me was still there. I wasn’t sure that it would ever fade.
We made our way to the house like our little display hadn’t been witnessed by the couple of neighbors that were standing outside their own homes. An older man watched us with wariness on his face while a younger guy was laughing and pointing his phone at us. Shit. That would be a problem.
Ramsey’s patience was wearing thin with me. I could feel it as sure as I could feel the mud under my boots as I stepped off the cracked sidewalk and ambled up to the door with Kruznov following closely behind me, probably wishing he could shoot me in the back without any repercussions. As much as I wanted to ease the captain’s worries, I wasn’t sure how. Especially with Kruznov pushing my buttons constantly.
Tingles broke out across my body and I had to make myself knock on the door. Nervousness made me knock harder than I meant to, but that still shouldn’t have been enough for the door to roll open, the way it did.
Immediately, the light panic turned to a furious rolling one. I was suspicious of everything. I raised my voice and called into the house. “Detective Willows with the Dallas PD. Anyone home?”
Kruznov shoved me aside and pushed open the door, his gun already drawn. “Daniels never leaves his door unlocked, much less open.”
I hesitated a moment before going in, an image of the third floor of the Granger building flashing through my mind. I pushed it aside and trailed in after my partner, only to find him standing in the middle of the small living room with a look of disgust on his face.
“Motherfucker. This is on you. I’m not doing this. Ramsey can transfer me if he needs to. I’m not about to have every fucking case I work on remain open because of this shit!”
I looked down and caught sight of a large man, splayed out across the stained carpet. From the amount of blood and the slashes across the arms and hands, I could tell that he’d been stabbed to death. Another stabbing. Another one of my cases.
“Why no one has said anything is beyond me! Everyone’s thinking it. You went and got yourself a fucking disease, Willows. Sallisaw is behind this. You know it. I know it. The fucking captain has to know it. You’re done. You’re no good. There’s nothing worthwhile about keeping you around anymore, and I damn sure am going to make the captain see that.”
I couldn’t take the sight of the man and Kruznov screaming at me. Walking closer, I jabbed out my arm, and with pointed fingers, hit him in the neck. He went to his knees immediately and gasped for air. It was the pain that cut off his oxygen. As soon as he passed out, his throat would relax and he’d be fine. A nice trick I’d learned from my father when I was still a kid.
Kruznov turned bright red and then purple before tipping forward. I barely caught him before he landed in the crime scene and dropped him the other way. With him unconscious at my feet, I yanked out my cell phone and called in the scene.
It wasn’t going to be good. As much as I didn’t like Kruznov, I couldn’t deny that he was making sense. I’d had the same thought over and over again since I’d gotten away from Sallisaw. And there I was. Another case, another dead potential witness. Stabbed to death.
I doubled over and tried to suck in air. When nothing came, I tightened my hands into fists and dug my short nails into my palms as hard as I could. I couldn’t have a panic attack in the middle of a crime scene. Anyone could walk in and see me.
Realization that I hadn’t cleared the scene hit me and self-preservation had me standing up and grabbing for my gun. Gasping for breath, I checked out the tiny house and then came back to the living room.
There was no one there. I was safe.
Doubt wedged its way into my mind, its own form of self-preservation. Being too sure was what had done me in before. What if there was someone hiding and I’d missed them? What if Sallisaw was waiting for me?
Fear sent me searching through the house again. Through closets and under the bed, I looked, expecting to find Sallisaw or one of his men lying in wait for me. When I made it back to the living room without finding anyone, I still didn’t relax. Knocking Kruznov out meant that I was essentially alone. Ramsey didn’t even trust me being alone, anymore. He didn’t say it, but I knew that he was worried that Sallisaw would come looking for me. If Ramsey didn’t think I was safe, then I wasn’t safe.
The wild thoughts shot through my head like a flare gun, filling me with blazing trails of icy fear. I squatted down next to the couch and made myself take slow breaths, even though the urge to gasp them in was there. I knew the tricks to soothe the panic, but they didn’t always work. Months of therapy had assured that I had the tools I needed, but that meant absolutely shit in the moment.
I knew that the thoughts I was having weren’t real or even me. They were the anxiety speaking. Still didn’t help me knowing that, though.
I opened my eyes and tried to slow my heartbeat with more breathing exercises. Glancing around, something shiny caught my eye, half wedged under the couch.
My brain kicked in and I leaned forward to get a clearer view. Using a pen from my pocket, I lifted the thick ruffled fabric of the vintage couch so I could fully see what was there. A shard of broken glass a little larger than my hand rested there, looking as evil as any villain I’d ever faced.
A gasp ripped from my lips and I fell backwards, getting away from the offensive thing. Looking around, I tried to find something that was broken, to make sense of that shard of glass. It was thick and couldn’t have come from just anything.
I jerked back the living room curtains just as a cruiser pulled into the spot directly in front of the house, lights on but with the sirens off. Thank God.
I watched as two uniforms climbed out of the car and hurried towards the front door. It was still open from Kruznov and me coming in, so they stepped inside and joined me, instantly soothing a layer of anxiety.
“What the fuck happened to Kruz?” The taller one, I think his name was Hill, asked.
I glanced down at my partner and forced a careless shrug. “Couldn’t handle all the blood, I guess. ETA on the medical examiner’s office?”
The other cop, a short guy with a big frown on his face, looked up at me from Kruznov. “Should be right behind us. We’re going to make sure the scene is secure. Do you need anything?”
Ha. I needed lots of things. A giant Xanax with a bottle of whiskey would’ve been really nice. Something to dull the pain and panic. I couldn’t say that to them, though, so I just shook my head and went back to looking for broken windows.
It was surprising for a house in that neighborhood, but not a single window was broken. I looked through the kitchen cabinets, using my pen to open and close them, in search of some kind of glass similar to what was on the living room floor. There was nothing, though.
I told myself it didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything. It was probably just a coincidence that I was overreaching on. None of the other stab victims that we’d found around that time had been found with glass anywhere near them, as far as I knew.
A siren rang out from down the street and I winced. My head was already throbbing from the blood rushing too quickly through my veins. I retreated to the back of the house and pushed my hand through my hair, forgetting it was pulled back.
I didn’t know if I could keep it up for much longer. I didn’t know if I was even safe to be around. I’d just knocked my partner unconscious and I knew there was going to be hell to pay when Ramsey heard about it. Hell, when Kruznov finally woke up from his nap.
I’d been fighting against the fear since I was released from the hospital, but it was getting to be too much. Nothing was working and I couldn’t keep up the charade for much longer, I knew. Things were getting out of control.
Just the month before, I’d purchased Xanax from an informant. Enough to last several months, and yet…I was almost out. I’d stooped to breaking the law to keep the secret that I was coming unglued at the seams.
I heard the front door squeak open and then a few minutes later, Kruznov roar with anger. I stood up, ready to face the trailer of a man. Instead of him coming through the kitchen doorway, though, it was Captain Ramsey.
He took one look at me and jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “Get back to the fucking precinct. Sit in my office and don’t move until I get there. Not for the bathroom, nor for a fucking drink of water.”
I nodded once and let myself out the back door, quickly making it to my car and pulling away. Relief to be away from the place was nearly tangible, it was so strong.