Force of Habit: A Falcone & Driscoll Investigation (23 page)

Sandra leaned forward and nipped his lower lip. “I’ll put every woman but me out of your head, darling.”

Blake’s eyes rolled back in his head. “Oh, baby.”

Giulia gave in to her growing disgust. She wasn’t going to stand in her own bedroom and watch an actual incidence of a woman raping a man. In her own bed.

Sandra closed her eyes.

Giulia took one step closer to the knife.

Someone grabbed Giulia from
behind, and she hit the floor face first. A knee dug into her butt and a strong hand wrenched her right arm behind her back.

“You’re a virgin. What an unexpected pleasure.”

A man hiding in here. Where—must’ve been in the closet. No place else in her small room.

Wake up, moron! Get out from under him.
She squirmed and bucked her hips, but she couldn’t move.

“You’re missing the show, Giulia. I staged this for you.”

He yanked her up and left, releasing her twisted arm to jerk up her head by her hair. “Now watch.” He wrapped muscled arms and legs around her and crushed her arms against her breasts.

Shock blew through Giulia’s fear. “Urnu the Snake?”
Scott. He wanted to get me into Raging Death. Was he working for Urnu all along? To get me here? Oh, God.

He smiled at her in his odd, teeth-baring way. “I enjoyed meeting you face to face after Friday’s battle. Scott doesn’t know that I used him solely to get you to my final initiation.”

She tried to pull her trapped legs from between his scissor hold. He merely laughed.

“Sandra didn’t take the pictures, you know,” he whispered. His hand stroked up and down the row of buttons on her sweater. “I did. She wanted Blake’s engagement broken. When you brought him here, I brought out my telephoto lens. I’m an expert at photographic manipulation. Sandra still believes Blake took you.” He unbuttoned her top button, one-handed. “Shall I seduce you by opening one button at a time? Or shall I tear it off and expose your breasts to your client? In his current state, I’m sure he’d make some interesting comments.”

Giulia’s legs tingled. How would she escape if they went completely numb?
Help me, Jesus. Don’t abandon me.

She could head-butt him. She could claw him. Her fingernails needed cutting. She had a little ammunition. Could she get to his eyes?

“Sandra, come here. This is also what you wanted.”

“Don—”

“I said come here.” His voice stayed polite, yet Sandra at once peeled her body off Blake and stood in front of Giulia.

Don
...
her brother. God, I’m an idiot.
She thrashed her already twisted upper body from side to side within his immovable grip. Giulia’s almost-dead legs hampered her. She tried to hit his lips or nose with her head.

He must have signaled Sandra, because she leaned down and slapped Giulia. Once. Twice. Again. Again. Giulia’s head snapped from side to side and tears filled her eyes.

“Thank you. Bring me the knife.” He pushed Giulia onto her back, slammed her shoulders flat on the thin rug, and kicked her inert legs straight.

Sandra put the knife into his outstretched hand as he sat on Giulia’s hips.

Giulia tried to build a coherent thought.
Move your legs. You can’t stay in his power. He likes to—

Urnu the Snake crooked a finger, and Sandra tick-tacked around to Giulia’s feet in her stiletto heels.

Urnu ripped open Giulia’s sweater and trapped her arms above her head with it. When she couldn’t do more than squirm, he sliced through her bra.

“I will show you the power of pleasure and pain.” He glanced backward. “Sandra.”

Giulia’s straightened legs gave a hint of life. She had a chance. Just a minute or two more and she could move them.

“Sandy, come back.” Blake squirmed in his silk bonds. “Wanna make you scream, Sandy.”

Sandra’s pointed nails scratched Giulia’s waist as she dragged off her jeans. “Hush, Blake. May I have the knife, Don?”

He looked over his shoulder at her. “It’s not time for that yet.”

“I want her naked and humiliated now.”

He smiled. “If you wish.”

Time for what? Giulia flexed her feet. Hundreds of little stabs. The knife snicked her skin as it slit her plain cotton underpants. Sandra tugged them off, and Giulia’s naked butt touched the rug.

God, Jesus, stop her. Stop him.
Giulia flexed her calves and stifled a gasp. Not that bad. She could deal with the pain. Urnu the Snake had her but she wasn’t in his power. Not yet.

“Little virgin, let me whisper something in your ear.” Urnu put his hands around Giulia’s neck and breathed into her mouth. “I don’t confine my victory ritual to Combat Realm triumphs.”

Don’t let him scare you.

Too late.

Shake it off. People don’t carve out hearts in real life.

Sandra held Giulia’s utilitarian panties next to her gold thong, and Urnu laughed.

Forget his hands on you. Forget your legs.
Giulia bent her right elbow. With her eyes on Urnu watching Sandra, she slid her arm out of her sweater and bra strap by increments The moment it was free, she inched it back to a trapped-looking position under the sweater.

Sandra climbed over Blake and sat on her heels on the bed. “Now learn your lesson.” Her gold-tipped fingers pushed his head sideways to face Giulia.

Urnu smiled. “Now I’ll teach you what happens to bad girls who bite instead of suck.”

Bite—when did—the rapist. In the park. Oh God. Oh no.

“Didn’t I leave any marks on you?” He mashed her breasts up and sideways. “Ah. Healing nicely. Almost like a tattoo.”

Sandra imitated Urnu’s smile. “Thank you for letting us watch, Don. Public lessons are the ones that endure, Blake. Remember this.”

“No!” Giulia threw off the sweater. The heel of her hand smashed Urnu’s nose.

He yelled and slid backward. She made a fist and punched the bloody mess on his face. He screamed and clutched his nose, blood spurting on Giulia, on the rug, on his dead-black shirt and pants.

“Don!” Sandra leaped off the bed and crouched beside him. Urnu cursed and spat blood and cursed some more.

“You bitch!” Sandra crashed into Giulia, knocking her against the balsawood closet doors. They cracked inward as Giulia lost her footing. Sandra snatched the knife from the floor and swung it, but Giulia’s backward stumble put her out of range.

Pound pound pound.
A foot kicking the apartment door? A muffled voice. “Giulia!”

Giulia ran for the bedroom door. Urnu’s slippery hand snatched her ankle. She pulled it free as Sandra slashed again. Flame seared her ribs. She clutched her left side and blood oozed through her fingers.

More pounding. A sharp crack. Another. The outer door slammed against the wall.

Sandra cursed. The knife came down. Giulia grabbed Sandra’s wrist. They pushed against each other. Giulia’s arms started to fold. Sandra pushed harder.

Bang.
The bedroom door shook. A less-muffled voice yelled, “Giulia!”
Bang.
The door shook again. “Giulia!”

Giulia jumped backward. Sandra sprang forward and stabbed at her again. Giulia missed Sandra’s wrist and caught the knife blade instead. She hissed from the pain and her hold slipped as blood ran down her arms.

The door hinges ripped out of the wall. Frank ran in, gun out.

“Get off her or I’ll fire.”

Urnu grabbed Frank’s ankle and yanked.

“What the—” Frank glanced down and kicked. Urnu’s head hit the corner of the closet and he slumped onto the rug.

“Last chance, Falke. Get off her.”

Sandra yanked the knife out of Giulia’s hands and brought it down.

Frank fired.

Sandra’s body jerked. Blood
gushed from her mouth. She dropped the knife and her hand clutched her throat. Her eyes dilated and she fell onto Giulia.

Frank holstered the gun.

“Get her off—get her off—” Giulia pushed at Sandra’s body, but her hands kept slipping.

Frank heaved the body onto the rug. “Giulia, are you all right? Christ, what happened? Never mind. Where’s the towels?”

“Um, kitchen drawer.” Her ears rang from the shot.

Frank ran out. Giulia held her gashed ribs.
I’ll never get all the blood out of the rug
.

Drawers opened and closed in the kitchen. “Which one? Wait, found them.”

Her hands burned, too. How was she going to interview for the doughnut job with injured hands?

“Giulia, don’t pass out on me. Here, give me your hands.” Frank, muttering in Irish, wiped her left hand with a towel before wrapping it around her hand.

“Ribs...”

“What? Holy shit.” Frank pressed towels to Giulia’s side. “Here, lean against the bed.”

Blake coughed and tried to spit. “Can one of you cut me loose?”

Frank stared for a long beat, then ran into the kitchen again. A moment later, he returned with a bread knife and sawed through the black sash. Blake sat up, rubbing his wrists.

Frank tossed his cell phone at him. “Call 911.”

Frank shoved open Giulia’s broken closet doors and pawed through her clothes. “Where’s your bathrobe?”

“Hook on the bathroom door.” Giulia didn’t feel quite so woozy now that blood wasn’t running down her arms and chest.
Good heavens, I’m still naked.

Blake’s voice above her. “Can I get an ambulance and police to—” Blake held the phone toward Giulia. “What’s your address, sug—Ms. Falcone?”

“2244 Pearl Street, apartment 115.”
Frank’s seen me naked in person now. He’ll probably have the snarkiest comment yet. No. No more. I can’t take another insult from him. I should leave. I can’t leave. The police are coming. I have to tell them what happened.

Blake put the phone to his ear again. “We have one gunshot wound and one knife wound... Thanks.” He snapped the phone closed and cut the cord around his feet. “What the hell did they do with my clothes?”

Frank came in and tossed them to him. “On the bathroom floor.” He draped Giulia’s bathrobe over her shoulders. “What happened?”

Why was he being polite?
“They drugged Blake and broke in here. Tied him to the bed. Waited for me, I guess.”

“They gave me something that acted like pot mixed with ecstasy.” Blake already had on his boxers and socks and was stepping into his pants. “I remember them walking me down the hall. I think I was singing.”

Frank pointed to the still-unconscious Urnu. “Who’s he?”

Blake zipped his pants. “Sandra’s brother Donald. Met him once, thought he was just another RPG geek.”

Giulia shuddered. “Urnu the Snake.” She backed away from him, but the bed stopped her. Her chest hurt when she moved. “Can you tie him up or something?”

Frank looked at Blake. “That bad?”

“I think he was behind Sandra stalking me.” Blake glanced at the body, then away. “She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“I think so.” Frank crouched to feel for a pulse, but Giulia could see Sandra’s open, blank eyes.

A few moments later, Giulia heard running footsteps. Then a deep voice at the outer door: “Police.”

“In here,” Frank said.

“Who else would get me away from my air-conditioned office on a slow Sunday night?” Captain Hogarth stood in the bedroom doorway.

“Jimmy, where’s the EMTs? Giulia’s bleeding.”

“They’re right behind me. What did you—”

“Coming through. Excuse me.” Paul Bunyan in uniform ducked the doorjamb and walked into the bedroom. He looked at Giulia, then Sandra’s body, then Urnu still unconscious at Hogarth’s feet. “Who’s urgent?”

“Right here.” Frank stepped aside. “I did what I could with towels.”

“All right, miss, let’s have a look.” He untied Giulia’s bathrobe and pulled away a bloody yellow-checked dishtowel from her ribs. “Doug, water and gauze.”

Giulia hadn’t noticed Little Richard behind Paul Bunyan. Rock stars didn’t moonlight as EMTs.
I’m tired. How can I be tired? It’s not even seven o’clock... is it?

Water-soaked gauze squelched against her. “Whoa—cold.”

Paul Bunyan pressed the bandage against the injury and wiped along its length. “Sorry, miss, gotta assess the damage.” He removed it and wound fresh, damp gauze around her. “Not deep, just long. They’ll glue you together at the ER in a snap.”

He had the gentlest touch, even through the squeaky rubber gloves. She stopped tensing every muscle. “I did a number on my hands, too.”

The smaller technician repeated the water-and-gauze treatment. “Stitches for these, miss. But they’re not that bad. In a couple weeks you’ll be playing the violin again.”

Giulia blinked. “I play the flute.”

The tall one laughed. “She got you, Doug! Miss, no one’s ever called him on that lame joke. Congratulations.”

“But I do play the flute.”

Doug laughed, too. “Ted, I think the lady is still shook up. Come on, miss. Let’s get you and your friend on the floor to the hospital.”

Giulia drew back. “Not together.”

Frank stopped talking to Hogarth. “Jimmy’ll ride with you, Giulia. You’ll be safe.”

A uniformed cop rolled a groaning Urnu face up. The cop whistled. “Helluva nose job on this one. Rise and shine, emo-boy.” He pushed Urnu into a sitting position and handcuffed him.

“Let’s have a look.” Ted squatted in front of him and probed his mashed face.

Urnu said, “Bitch broke my nose.” He glared at Ted. “Get your hands off me, asshole.”

Ted snapped a chemical cold pack into life. “She sure did. Bleeding’s pretty much stopped, Russ. Just let me strap this on him and he’s all yours.” Doug handed Ted more gauze. Urnu yelled and cursed and tried to butt Ted with his shoulders.

“This is why I love my job.” Ted stood and grinned. “Enjoy the trip, Russ.”

The uniformed officer grinned back as he hauled Urnu to his feet. “Thanks for nothing, Ted. Let’s go, emo-boy.”

“Piss off.” He spat blood at Giulia. “Gonna make you pay, bitch.”

Giulia flinched and wanted to kick herself for it. Frank took a step after Urnu, but Hogarth’s hand fell on his shoulder and he stopped.

The cop shoved Urnu’s back. “Shut up.” Urnu tripped over one of the broken door hinges and cursed again.

Doug put one arm around Giulia’s shoulders and the other beneath her elbow. “Here we go, miss. Up on your feet. Dizzy?”

“No... no. I’m okay.”

“Good. Let me help you with this bathrobe. There you go. I’ll just tie it closed... Can your friend bring some clothes along for you?”

“Got it.” Frank dug sweats and a T-shirt from Giulia’s closet. “Where’s your underwear, Giulia?”

She grimaced. So much for a woman’s mystique. Like it mattered. Like she mattered. “Top dresser drawer.”

Blake cleared his throat. “Excuse me.”

Ted snapped on a fresh pair of gloves. “Sorry, sir, got caught up in all that blood. Let’s have a look at your neck.” Doug left Giulia’s side to hand water and gauze to Ted, then went out.

“Not bad at all.” Ted’s cleaning sent a trail of water down Blake’s shirt. “Just needs a stitch or two.”

Doug returned with a stretcher. It wouldn’t fit through the broken bedroom door, so he came into the room and grasped Giulia’s elbow again. “I claim the privilege of escorting the lady to her conveyance.”

“Wait a minute.” Ted stood toe to toe with Doug and spoke to the tops of his cornrows. “You’re barely as tall as the lady. I think height trumps first dibs.”

Doug pushed Ted away with one finger. “I provide balance and security. Out of the way, overbearing one.”

Giulia smiled. “Jack the giant-killer.”

Doug laughed. Giulia avoided Frank’s eyes as she passed him. Why hadn’t he sneered at her yet?

“I feel like you’re making too much of this—ow.” Giulia clutched at her side as Doug eased her onto the stretcher.

“It’s our job to get you to the hospital no worse than when you left here. Ever drive over the potholes on the east side? You don’t want to bounce around the passenger seat of a car with that rib injury.” He pushed the stretcher into the hall. “All right, folks, let us through here.”

Blanket tucked around her, Giulia rode past two dozen whispering adults. The twins were there, too, mouths open and water cannons dripping. She closed her eyes. Urnu might not be her biggest problem after all. Mrs. Bleeker already had Mr. Colombo by the arm, talking faster than humans ought to be able to. By tonight the story would grow into a wilder tale than anything on primetime TV. Maybe she’d get evicted because of all the damage.
I’ll lose my security deposit for sure when the landlord sees my bedroom.

The stretcher bumped out the street door. She could ask Ming-
mei to get her clothes and books. That way she wouldn’t have to face anyone here again. There were cheaper apartment buildings. Someplace anonymous, in a different part of town... Her ribs burned... Where was her friend with the marijuana stash when she needed him?

Ted appeared on her other side, and he and Doug lifted the stretcher into the ambulance.

“Well, well. I get to be near you again.” Urnu’s voice, twanging and muffled from the cold pack strapped to his face.

Giulia’s eyes snapped open.

Captain Hogarth’s arm slammed Urnu against the opposite wall of the ambulance. “Let’s rehearse this again, Falke. You are under arrest. Anything you say can be used against you. That includes every word aimed at Ms. Falcone.”

Urnu kept his green-gold eyes on Giulia. “All I have to do is wait, bitch. You won’t have protection forever.”

Hogarth pulled Urnu’s head around by his long hair and put his nose right against Urnu’s lumpy gauze. “You’re only sitting up so you don’t choke on your own blood and I don’t have to fill out a pile of reports on why you died on the way to the hospital. If I had my way, you’d be cuffed facedown on this cot.”

“I dare you, pig. I’ll come after you for attempted murder.”

“You don’t have the balls, Falke. Listen up: if you say one more word to Ms. Falcone, our helpful EMTs can tape your mouth closed and you can figure out how to breathe through your ears. Or you can shut the hell up. Your choice.”

Urnu flipped off Hogarth despite his manacled wrists and slumped against the wall.

Hogarth smiled at Giulia. She closed her eyes and tried to drift, but Ted and Doug turned on the siren and she understood why Quasimodo went deaf. When she opened her eyes, Urnu was still staring at her, so she focused on Hogarth’s teddy-bear face.

“Where’s Frank?” It hurt to yell.

“Behind us. Your client needs stitches, too. Frank’s driving him.” Hogarth’s deep voice carried much easier than hers.

“Oh... I forgot about him.” Self-pity tears formed in her eyes. “Not my client. Frank’s looking for a new partner.”
Grow up, Giulia. Tough broads take their severance pay and find a new job. They don’t snivel over ex-bosses.

Hogarth’s eyebrows merged over his nose. “Frank didn’t say anything about that.”

Giulia tried to smile. “We had a disagreement. Parted ways and all those euphemisms.”

The ambulance bumped over a pothole, then over several in a row. Giulia bounced and pressed her lips together. At least the siren was louder than her reflexive whimpers.

They slowed and turned left. Hogarth peered between Ted’s and Doug’s heads. “Just pulling in the emergency entrance.”

The siren stopped. Giulia’s ears rang from that aftermath now, rather than the gunshot.

“You’re not—” Hogarth stopped and spoke at normal volume. “You’re not working for Frank anymore? Really? Call me tomorrow and we’ll schedule an interview. His loss is definitely Precinct 8’s gain.”

The back doors opened.

“Amazing, Ted. You still haven’t killed a patient with your driving.” Doug climbed in and unlocked Giulia’s gurney. “Here we go, miss. Doctor’s waiting inside.”