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He laughed into her face, delighting in her terror. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she lost consciousness, so she never saw the puzzled look that came over Fischer's face as he slowly collapsed on top of her before rolling bonelessly onto the floor.
Peter moaned and fluttered his lashes, squinting against the light and trying to bring the face above his into focus. He closed his eyes again, the throbbing in his head vying for attention with the agony in his groin.
"Peter. Wake up. Talk to me, Pete."
He took a ragged breath, trying to place the familiar voice. "Blake?" he asked shakily. "What-what are you doing here? How did you find me? Sara…" His eyes flew open in alarm. "Sara! Where is she? What happened? What…?" He struggled wildly, trying to sit up as gentle but firm hands pushed on his chest to hold him down.
"She's dead, Peter."
Peter's heart stopped and he lay still, staring up into Blake's face. "Dead? H-how?"
Blake kept a comforting hand on Peter's shoulder, compassionate gray eyes alight with concern. "As near as I can tell, she had a seizure and then either a stroke or cardiac arrest. When I checked her, her body was like an oven; temperature had to be over a hundred and six. Must have gotten hold of a bad recipe."
"Did she say anything before she died?" Peter grabbed twin handfuls of Blake's shirtfront, pulling himself up into a half-sitting position. "Did-did she say anything?" His eyes begged for some hope, but his searching gaze read the answer without words being spoken. Closing his eyes slowly, he buried his head against the older man's chest and shook.
Blake patted the dark head awkwardly. "Last time I checked in with Kermit, forces were converging on a search area on Hennepin. You can't give up hope, Pete. You've never been a quitter before. Don't start now."
Peter's voice was muffled against Blake's shoulder. "I don't know how much longer I can stand this."
Blake made no comment, simply holding his young friend and rocking gently for a few moments. At last he spoke softly, "I need to call this in, Pete. Can you get up?"
Peter rolled over onto his hands and knees and paused in that position, taking stock of his injuries. {My head's pounding, but not as bad as before.} The debilitating pain in his groin was lessening, and he panted, "Jesus, I haven't hurt like this since that cheap shot foul in the city finals two years ago."
"We need to get you to a doctor, Pete."
Peter got to rubbery legs as his friend kept a supporting arm around his waist. "I'm all right. Just give me a minute. I been knocked around worse than this before."
Still slightly doubled over, he glanced at the blanket-draped figure on the floor, and felt another piece of his heart splinter off and shatter. "I-I-I couldn't do it, Blake."
"I know."
"You said there's a-a-a search?"
"That's right. There's more manpower out there right now than when we ran that serial killer to ground a few months ago."
"What if her partner is waiting for a call that never comes? What if there was some-some kind of code and…"
"I won't deal with 'what ifs', Peter. Just plain facts."
Peter straightened a little more and gripped his friend's arm tightly, demanding, "How did you find me? I ditched your tracer."
"Not the one I put in your cigarette lighter."
Peter stared at the friend regarding him so solemnly, and a half-smile twitched at one corner of his mouth. "I'm that predictable, am I?"
"To those of us who know you well. You gave your word that you wouldn't pull any tricks. I didn't."
"What if I had tossed the lighter?"
"I had the tracer-bug I attached to your watch when you took a shower this morning."
"Why did you go to all this trouble to keep track of a loose cannon like me?"
"I didn't want to have to explain to Kacie why I let you go into this without backup."
A sharp ache in his throat made it difficult for Peter to speak. "Just how much do you two talk?"
Blake smiled wryly at Peter. "A gentleman never tells."
Peter frowned and then paled. "You-you-you said a 'bug'?"
Blake nodded and looked away, embarrassed.
"Then-then-then…you heard? And recorded? Oh, Christ." Peter's head dropped, and his face flamed in humiliation. {He covered me up and never said a word. God! I feel so dirty.}
Blake placed his hand behind Peter's neck and shook him gently. "It's a good thing I have the tape, Peter. We have a dead suspect here, and it's proof that you didn't kill her. I doubt that IA would take either your word or mine that you didn't murder her."
"Fuck IA. I don't give a rat's ass what they think, about anything. I would walk into hell if it meant getting Kacie back."
"I think you already have, Pete."
As Peter's head sagged against his chest, Blake kept the comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. "You gonna make it OK? I need to call the precinct and report in."
"Yeah. I'll be OK." He winced slightly. "I'll go check out the bathroom. See if everything still works." He shuffled off to use the facilities, moving gingerly at first, grateful that he was in loose-fitting khakis and not a pair of his tight denim jeans.
Blake sat on the edge of the rumpled bed and jabbed at the numbers on the touch tone phone. "Captain? This is Blake…Yes, yes, I know…Yes, Captain…" His face flushed suddenly and he roared, "If you'd shut up and let me talk, I have some information for you!" The voice on the other end choked off in shocked silence at the unexpectedly insubordinate Blake.
He sniffed and cleared his throat, regaining his control. "Sorry, Captain. I'm at the Shady Haven Motel out on 275, Unit 7. Peter is here with me, and a very deceased Sara Rezac…No…no…he did not kill her…Either a drug overdose or just a buildup in her system…No, I'm not a forensics specialist now, but I know what I know…No, I haven't called EMS…I wanted to talk to you first…Damage control? Maybe. But I knew you would know how to handle things…Any word on Kacie?…Yes, I'll hold."
He sat, phone pressed against his ear, viewing the body at his feet. "Now I know what they mean by 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'," he muttered.
He jumped with a start as an excited voice made the receiver crackle in his ear. He listened intently and then roared, "Peter!"
The white-faced younger detective threw open the bathroom door and Blake repeated the news he had just received. "They've got her, Peter. She's on her way to County General right now."