Rita Herron - Beneath the Badge

What if someone had disarmed Taylor’s security or cut her lights?

Another noise jarred him, and he jerked his head toward the side of the house, then realized the noise had come from the back.

Sucking in a breath, he wielded his gun and slowly inched along the length of the house to the side, then around the corner where a terrace held a pool, sitting area, fireplace, cooking pit and a pool house. A clay flowerpot was overturned, dirt spilled across the stone.

Senses alert, his gaze swept the perimeter and the gardens. A water hose lay on the ground, spraying the stone. He shut off the water, wondering why someone would have directed it toward the pool instead of the lawn.

His breath caught as he neared the pool. A body was floating facedown inside.

God.

It was Taylor Landis.

Heart pounding, Hayes laid his gun beside the pool, threw off his Stetson and boots, then dove into the water. He flipped Taylor over, cursing at the bruises on her face and neck as he carried her up the steps. Her long blond hair was a tangled mass around her slender face, and her arms dangled beside her, limp and lifeless.

He eased her onto one of the pool chairs, guilt nagging him for thinking that she’d been out shopping while she’d obviously been struggling for her life.

He quickly checked for a pulse. Hell, he couldn’t find one.

He punched the number for security. “Taylor Landis was assaulted. I need an ambulance and CSI team ASAP, and have your people search the surrounding area!”

He disconnected the call, then started chest compressions, tilted her head back, gently moved aside her hair, pinched her nose and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. “Come on, Taylor, breathe.”

Instead, she lay as limp as a rag doll, deathly pale.

Sweat exploded across his brow as he continued CPR.

Another breath. More chest compressions. Sirens wailed in the distance, coming closer. “Come on, Taylor, don’t die on me. Fight, dammit.”

He inhaled, closed his lips over hers again, and said a silent prayer that he hadn’t lost her already. Suddenly her body jerked and she gasped, a strangled plea for air. She was alive….

He muttered a silent thanks as he watched her eyes flicker.

She coughed, choking and gulping in air, and he tilted her head sideways so she could release the excess water trapped in her lungs. Her body trembled, then she slowly opened her eyes and her terrorized gaze met his.

Did she remember what had happened? Could she identify her attacker?

TAYLOR SHIVERED, CLAWING her way through the darkness. She was cold and shaking and ached all over. And she was so weak…What had happened?

Muddied, terrifying memories crashed back and panic bolted through her. The pool…the attack…she’d been fighting off the man, but he’d pushed her under water…

She had almost died.

A strangled cry escaped her, and she blinked to clear her vision, then stared in confusion at the man above her.

Sergeant Hayes Keller.

His black eyes pierced her like lasers, while his hands gripped her by the shoulders. For a brief moment, fear seized her, but he stroked her cheek so gently that a tidal wave of emotions welled inside her and tears flowed down her face.

“Shh, you’re going to be all right now, Taylor. I’ve called an ambulance.”

She gave a slight nod, then swallowed hard to stifle another cry, but the pitiful sound came out anyway. Embarrassed, she pressed her hand over her eyes to regain control and shield herself from his probing look.

She hated to appear weak in front of anyone. Especially this big tough guy with the bad attitude. He didn’t like her, and she didn’t like him.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” He lifted her fingers from her face, his voice husky and low.

“I’m…okay,” she whispered, although her throat felt raw and her voice sounded strained and broken. The effort it took for her to talk triggered a coughing spell, and he lifted her at an angle, murmuring comforting words until the fit subsided, and she sagged back against him.

“Taylor, did you see your attacker? Do you know who did this?”

She shook her head. “Too dark…”

“Was he on foot? Did you hear a car?”

“I don’t know.” An involuntary shudder rocked her. “He jumped me from behind….”

He clenched his jaw, looking harsh, yet his hands were tender as he stroked her back. “Just relax,” he said. “Let me get you a towel or something.”

He eased her back down on the chair, and she clutched his arm, not wanting him to leave.

“I’ll be right back.” He rushed away but returned in seconds and wrapped a thick, plush bath towel around her.

“I need to open the gate for the ambulance,” he said. “The security system was off and I couldn’t get through.”

She frowned, then realized that her attacker must have disarmed the alarm. But when? And how?

“Inside,” she said in a ragged voice. “By the mudroom entrance.”

He nodded, raced to the side entrance then disappeared inside the house. Terrified that her attacker might still be lurking nearby, she glanced around the terrace. There hadn’t been a car in the drive when she’d arrived home. And she hadn’t heard one after she went in the house. He must have come in on foot.

The rose garden with its canopy of trees, bushes and elaborate labyrinth of flower beds normally looked inviting but now it seemed eerie, a place for an intruder to hide. Even her home with its fortress of rooms would provide cover. He could be in a closet or one of the extra suites or even in her bedroom, for that matter.

Another chill swept through her.

What if her attacker was inside? What if he killed the ranger, then returned to finish her off?

HAYES HAD TO HURRY. He didn’t like leaving Taylor alone for a minute. She was too pale, scared to death, and her attacker might still be on the premises. With ten thousand square feet of house and three acres, no telling where the bastard might be.

He could even be in the house. Had he tried to kill Taylor so he could rob her? Or could her brother, Miles, have attacked her because of her inheritance?

He yanked his boots back on, and they squeaked on the Italian marble tile as he entered the mansion. He paused to listen, but it was quiet. Too quiet. If the security system had been breached because of the power outage, it should be beeping. The security team would also have been notified and would have shown up by now.

Someone had disarmed the alarm intentionally.

He located the security system panel and pushed the manual button to open the gates, grateful to hear the sirens approaching. Then he jogged back outside to Taylor. He’d do a thorough search of the property, house and system once she was taken care of.

She was crouched in the lounge chair, clutching the towel around her, trembling. He scanned the area, walked to the edge of the gardens and checked. But he saw no movement in the carefully tailored layout of trimmed bushes and rose vines. Something caught his eye on a low tree branch. A hair had gotten caught in the twig. A long blond hair but not as blond as Taylor’s. A woman’s hair.

But Taylor said she’d been attacked by a man.

He bagged the hair anyway for trace.

On edge, he strode back to Taylor, this time standing guard. His jaw clenched at the sight of the scrapes and abrasions on her knees and hands. A bruise darkened her cheek and her nails were jagged and bloody, indicating she’d fought her assailant. Good for her.

Damn bastard. He couldn’t stand the thought of any man beating on a woman. Maybe they’d find some trace evidence or DNA.

“What happened?” he asked bluntly.

She winced, biting down on her lip as if the horror of the memory was haunting her. “I came down for a swim,” she whispered, coughing in between the words.