Carol Ericson - The Bridge

She must’ve been terrified coming to in that trunk. Despite her soft, feminine appearance, she had to be made of steel to have waded into the San Francisco Bay to avoid her captor.

Holding a cup of hot chocolate in one hand and a coffee in the other, he nudged open the door and strode toward the car. Before he reached the door, Elise hopped out and took both cups from him.

“Which is which?”

“Yours is on the right.”

She bent over into the car to secure his coffee in the cup holder. As she did so, her skimpy dress slid up dangerously high.

She backed out of the car, one hand flattening the dress against her thighs. When she straightened up, she rolled her eyes. “This dress was a lot longer when I started out last night.”

“I believe you.” He rubbed her arms as if to erase her goose bumps. “You shouldn’t be out here without my jacket, anyway.”

“I couldn’t figure out how to roll down the window. Must be locked.” She licked her lips and gave a little shiver—more like a wiggle.

It was the sexiest combination of moves ever aimed at him, and she didn’t even mean it—didn’t mean it as a come-on anyway.

“Get back in the car and wrap your hands around that hot chocolate. I asked for extra whipped cream.”

She scurried around to the other side of the car and huddled in his jacket again, one hand darting out to grab her cup.

She slurped a sip through the lid and closed her eyes. “Perfect.”

“Are you up for a few more questions?”

Her slim fingers tightened around the cup, but she nodded. “Absolutely.”

“Have you been having trouble with anyone? Gotten into any arguments? Coworkers? Neighbors?”

She snorted. “You think someone put out a hit on me?”

“Just covering all bases, Elise. What kind of work do you do?”

“I’m a teacher, a kindergarten teacher.”

Her students must love her sweet sincerity. You couldn’t fool kids that age.

“No trouble at the school?”

“Everyone’s great, no politics on the playground.”

“What about your landlord?”

“Oscar? He travels a lot. We get along great. I pay my rent on time and don’t have any wild parties. He’s my friend’s brother. That’s how I met her, Courtney.”

“Ex-boyfriends? Ex-husbands?”

She sipped her cocoa—too long.

“No.” She sucked in a breath. “It’s beautiful.”

“What?” He jerked his head to the side.

“The bridge. I’ve been here for almost a year now, and it always takes my breath away when I get an unexpected view of it.”

Sean grunted.

“They thought I was a jumper, you know.”

He gripped the steering wheel. “Who?”

“The city workers who discovered me. They thought I’d jumped from the bridge. How crazy is that?”

Sean’s eye twitched and he dug his knuckles into his eye to stop it. “Crazy. Chances are you wouldn’t be walking out of the water if you had.”

“I know there have been a few survivors, but I don’t think they swam to shore on their own.” She snuggled deeper into his jacket. “What would make someone do that?”

Sean lifted his tight shoulders. “Only they know. Right or left?”

She blinked her eyes. “Keep going straight, and then make a right at the next signal.”

“So, no bad blood between you and anyone?”

“No. I...I don’t like to fight—typically.”

Except for her life.

She guided him the rest of the way to her house, and he parked on the street. Single-family homes lined the block, but he could tell several of them were conversions.

She shrugged off his jacket and shoved her feet into the paper slippers. “Thank you, Detective Brody. Will you call me to let me know what time to come down to the station? If you give me something to write on, I’ll jot down my home phone number. I guess my cell is gone.”

Did she really think he’d drop her curbside while some lunatic had her purse, her address and her keys?

“I’ll walk you up.”

She thrust her arms into the sleeves of his jacket and scrambled from the car, holding on to her cup.

She led him to the side of the house and through a gate onto a brick walkway. Holding up her finger, she dipped beside a planter. She raked through the dirt and pulled out a key.

He’d seen better hiding places, but at least she hadn’t stashed the key beneath the welcome mat.

She puckered her lips and blew on the key before inserting it into the dead bolt. It clicked.

The key scraped when she pulled it out of the lock, and Sean’s stomach knotted with the sound. He cinched her wrist as she reached for the doorknob.

“Wait. Me first.”

Her gaze darted to the door and back to his face. She dipped her chin and stumbled back.

He withdrew his weapon from his shoulder holster and edged open the door. Coiling his muscles, he stepped into Elise’s house.

The rising sun filtered through the slats of her blinds, throwing a vertical pattern across the deep blue carpet on the floor. A low light glowed beneath a whimsical lampshade painted with flowering vines. Colorful children’s books littered a coffee table in the shape of a piece of driftwood.

Sean eased out a slow breath and took another step into the inviting room. “Everything look okay in here?”

She peered around his body, nudging his arm with her head. “Looks fine to me.”

Something scratched at the sliding glass door, and Elise grabbed his biceps, digging her nails into the material of his shirt. She released a noisy sigh along with his arm and pointed to the door. “My mangy friend is looking for a handout.”

A gray-and-white-striped cat pawed at the door again, flicked his tail and walked away.

“How many rooms?”

“This one.” She waved an arm in front of her. “You can see the kitchen, and then there are two bedrooms and a bathroom down the hall. That door leads to the garage.”

“That would be a good place to start.” Sean swung open the door to the garage. A little hybrid crouched in the center of the garage floor and well-ordered shelves surrounded it. A washer and dryer were tucked in a corner. Not many places to hide here. He took a look under the car for the heck of it.

“Let’s have a look in the bedrooms just to be on the safe side.”

“I’m all for safe.”

She led the way down the short hallway, and Sean tried really hard to drag his gaze away from her swaying hips and the dress that seemed to be shrinking by the minute.

The doors to both bedrooms yawned open, and after a cursory look at the rooms and in the closets, Elise assured him all was well.

She traipsed down the hall to the bathroom at the end, calling over her shoulder. “It’s a good thing I have a small house.”

She tripped to a stop at the bathroom door and gasped. “Oh!”

With his heart thudding, Sean took two giant steps to join her. The room tilted and he slammed a hand against the doorjamb to stop the spinning.

Elise hooked a finger through his belt loop. “Wh-what does it mean?”

Sean’s eyes burned as he read the words on the bathroom mirror in red lipstick: Here we go again, Brody.

“I don’t know what it means.”

Sean ran the back of his hand across his mouth.

Oh, but he did. He knew exactly what it meant.

Chapter Three

Elise’s gaze edged from the lipstick words on her mirror to the cop’s reflection. Brody—that was his name. Why had someone scrawled it on her bathroom mirror along with a cryptic message?

She loosened her hold on his belt loop and crept closer to the vanity. Wedging her hands on the tile, she leaned toward the words on the glass.

“Don’t touch anything.”

“Oops!” She snatched her hands off the vanity. “Do you think he left fingerprints?”