“What?”
“Do it, Burkholder. Get out of the vehicle. Right now.”
“I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“You’ve been drinking. I smelled it back at the police station. I smell it now. Get the fuck out of the car.”
My heart begins to pound. I hadn’t expected this. A dozen responses scroll through my brain, but none of my options are good. “I’m not comfortable doing that, Detrick. I’ll follow you back to the station and submit to a Breathalyzer there.”
“Not comfortable?” He glares at me through the six-inch opening of the window. “Open the door. Now.”
I keep my voice level and unemotional. “Call another officer out here and I’ll comply.”
“Get out of that fucking vehicle!” he roars. “Now!”
I think of the horrific things this man might have done. I can’t imagine him believing he can get away with harming me. But there’s no way I’m getting out of my vehicle. I hit the automatic door locks.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” he says.
“Get Pickles out here and I’ll comply.” Snow swirls in through the six-inch open window.
He leans closer. “You make me drag another cop out here and I’ll throw the book at you. DUI. Resisting. Whatever else I can think of. I’ll ruin you, Burkholder. You’ll be lucky to get a job as a parking lot attendant.”
I say nothing.
“Have it your way.” As if resigned, he straightens and reaches for the radio. “This is 247—”
The window shatters. Glass pelts me. I catch a glimpse of Detrick’s gloved fist as it flies toward my face. I see something dark in his hand. I ram the shifter into gear, but before I can stomp the gas, I hear the sickening crack! of the stun gun. Five hundred thousand volts of electricity jump from the electrodes into my neck.
It’s like being hit by a baseball bat. I feel the jolt all the way to my bones. I’m aware of the Mustang rolling forward, but I can’t make my foot hit the gas. The charge has paralyzed me. Confusion swirls in my head. As Detrick reaches in and turns off the ignition, I know I’ve made a fatal mistake.
CHAPTER 33
It took John an hour to get out of the city. Not only were the roads hazardous, but multiple accidents had many streets blocked. The driving wouldn’t have been so bad, but at some point he’d started to worry about Kate. Her suspicions about Detrick might sound outrageous, but she had a good head on her shoulders. More importantly, she was a good cop. If her suspicions were correct, there could be a serial murderer with a badge on the prowl in Painters Mill.
While waiting for an accident to clear on Highway 16 out of Newark, he tried her cell, but got voice mail. He left a message, then tried her home phone. Something darker than worry gripped him when he got her machine.
“Where the hell are you?” he muttered and disconnected.
He still had Glock’s number on his cell, so John tried him next. To his relief, he answered. “Have you seen Kate?”
“Not since earlier today. What’s up?”
He debated on how much to tell. “I was wondering if you could swing by her house and check on her.”
“I can go by there right now.” He paused. “You going to tell me what’s going on?”
John inched past a jackknifed eighteen wheeler where EMTs pulled the driver from a mangled cab. “I can’t get into it, Glock.”
“I’m officially fuckin’ worried now, Tomasetti.”
“Check on her. I’ll fill you in when I get there.” Squinting through the snow flying at his windshield, he jacked the speedometer to forty and hoped like hell Kate was wrong.
I’m aware of being dragged from my vehicle. Snow on my face. In my hair. Spilling down my collar. I’m in terrible trouble, but I’m in no shape to do anything about it.
Another crack! sounds.
Pain rocks my body, jumbles my brain. My muscles lock up. I’m facedown in the snow. It’s in my mouth and eyes. Cold against my face. I sense Detrick kneeling beside me. My hands being yanked behind my back. I try to fight, end up flopping around like a fish.
“You should have let it go, Kate.”
I try to scream, but my mouth is full of snow and I manage only a sputter. I try to shake off the disorientation. But it’s as if I’m locked in a fog.
He hits me with the stun gun again. Pain wrenches a groan from me. My muscles go rigid. I feel my eyes roll back. Consciousness slips and the world goes monochrome. I’m aware of him tromping through the snow. Moving around. But I’m too dazed to determine what he’s doing. I tug on the bindings at my wrists, but they remain tight. Rolling, I raise my head and look around. Snow swirls down from a black sky. I see headlights. And then Detrick is standing over me.