Heat Gauge

Chapter Ten

Raw panic squeezed Nikki Heat's heart as she forced her way through the ever present throng of crime scene stickybeaks. The jagged edges her mother's death had rent in her soul burned with fresh agony, as did her lungs. Tears choked and blinded her. Firelight danced across the rainslick pavement as Nikki flashed tin to the uniform on crowd control and barrelled into the thinner mess of firefighters and cops behind the tape. She hadn't gone far before Captain Montrose grabbed her from behind, wrestling her into a bearhug to hold her back from the devastation.

“Nikki. NIKKI! There's nothing you can do!”

Nikki fought him with everything she had. Montrose was burly and strong, but he had a hard time restraining her.

“NIKKI! Stop!”

“No,” Nikki sobbed. “No! Sir, let me go. Let me … I can --”

“Nikki, don't make me cuff you.”

Nikki's legs gave way and she collapsed in Montrose's arms, letting loose an animal wail of despair, gripping at his jacket as if it could keep her afloat in the wave of torment that crashed over her. Her captain helped her to the backseat of the Roach Coach and positioned his bulk between her and the burning wreckage of the apartment building, shouting for someone to bring a blanket. The second he turned Nikki rolled underneath his outstretched arm and took off sprinting for the carnage.

Another silhouette stepped into her path and caught her, this time Ochoa. Raley wasn't far behind, taking a firm grip of Nikki's elbow to stop her right-crossing her team mate. She bucked and twisted and screamed for them to let her go. They took her down. In a split second her cheek was being pressed into the wet pavement and cuffs were being snapped around her wrists.

“I'm sorry, Nikki, but you can't go in there. This is to keep you safe!” Raley shouted in her ear as they wrestled her into a standing position and dragged her back to the Crown Vic. Montrose pushed her into the backseat again and this time closed and locked the door.

Nikki threw herself against the glass. “SIR! Please! PLEASE! I have to get in there! I have to –”

“HE'S GONE, NIKKI!” Montrose roared.

The gravity of those three words, similar to the ones she'd heard for the first time a decade previously, settled on Nikki like a dark cloud and she sank onto the seat, sobbing.

Jameson Rook was gone.

Captain Montrose assigned a protective detail to Nikki's apartment and sent her home. The sun was well above the New York skyline when the black-and-white pulled up outside her building. A uniform accompanied Nikki upstairs, uncuffed her and told her he was sorry, then left.

Sorry?

In a daze Nikki locked the door and wandered into her living room. The sunlight fanning through the window illuminated the Singer Sargeant print Rook had purchased for her, lending real light to the painted lanterns. Nikki stared at it wordlessly for a few minutes. There was no sound in the apartment, not even the ticking of a clock to prove that time still moved.

Lost, Nikki meandered aimlessly from room to room, trying to find solace somewhere. But everything reminded her of Rook. Eventually she sat on the edge of her cast-iron claw-footed bathtub, the one he had joked would protect her from a meteor, and simply closed her eyes.

Nikki had no idea how long she remained there, still as a statue, absorbing the nothingness around her. But she was roused from her comatose state when a sharp knock sounded at her door. Pausing only to check that her gun was clear in its holster, she crossed the apartment and opened it.

“Hey, girl,” Lauren said quietly, looking a little self-conscious. “Can I come in?”

Nikki nodded and stepped back to permit her friend entry.

“How are you holding up?”

Shrug. She couldn't speak around the painful lump her throat. She didn't want to try. Words didn't matter. The door snapped closed.

Lauren's chocolate eyes showed concern and sadness. Nikki saw the tell-tale signs that told her her friend had been crying.

“Nikki, I –”

“Don't say it, Lauren.”

The edge in Nikki's voice bit like ice. Lauren pressed her lips closed, eyes welling up with tears. Nikki brushed past her and went into the kitchen, overwhelmed with a desire to drown her sorrows.

“Do you want anything to drink?” she called, opening the fridge. Lauren didn't reply. Nikki turned and saw her standing in the kitchen doorway, a yellow envelope clutched in her trembling hands.

“Actually … Nikki, I came to give you this. H-he gave it to me l-last night. After y-you f-found him he came to see me.”

Nikki stared blankly at the letter.

“Nikki, please … take it.” Lauren was crying now but Nikki felt nothing as she numbly reached out and took the envelope. The paper was rough against her fingers. She stared at it, the looping handwriting on the front was indeed Rook's. Her gaze followed the lines, imagining his strong hand gliding across the surface, scrawling her name.

“Lauren –”

Next thing Nikki knew both of them were sobbing into each others' shoulders, holding close, swaying on the spot. And Nikki was pouring her heart out.

“I love him, Lauren. I love him.”

“I know, sweetie.”

“Now he's gone and I never told him.”

“Shhhh, it's okay.”

“I'm pregnant. It's his.”

Lauren pulled back and looked up at Nikki, mascara running. “Oh, honey ...” Nikki just nodded and and managed a watery smile.

“He didn't know. I wanted to tell him. I was going to last night.” The tears welled up again.

“Shhhh, he knows now.”

Nikki's smile wavered. “Lauren … what am I going to do?”

A steely look came into the M.E.'s eyes. “You're going to keep fighting. I know you, Nikki Heat. You can't give up. Not now. You've got to catch this person and put a stop to all of this. For Jamie's sake.”

Nikki felt her resolve harden. “You're right. I have to end this.”