No. I wanted a massage.
I was just about to head out when I saw a familiar set of shoulders sitting down at the bar. He talked to someone off-screen before Eric turned to look at someone.
My eyes widened. It was Ashley.
I watched as they conversed.
At least I knew Eric wasn’t lying.
I thought that was it. I thought that was all I needed, but then something happened.
“What?” I asked.
I rewound the footage and watched again.
I shook my head. “No way. It can’t be.”
The third time I watched it, though, it was confirmed.
While Eric and Ashley talked, there was someone sitting on the other side of Eric. I couldn’t make them out at all because the camera cut the majority of this person off.
But what I did see favored Eric’s story. There was no way it could be a coincidence.
This person on the other side of Eric took advantage of the fact that Eric was distracted and poured something in Eric’s drink.
Ashley hadn’t been raped, at least not this time.
If anything, Eric was the one who had been violated.
Chapter 16
It was difficult for me not to pick up my phone and call Luxe every fifteen minutes. I put in my request with them for a copy of the security footage I was able to see before the manager came over and insisted I leave. Instead, I toyed with the idea of calling Beech.
We weren’t exactly on the best of terms right now. He still didn’t understand why I was involved in the case and I was upset that he didn’t take me seriously as an investigator with a crime like rape, but when it came to burglary and robbery, he had no problem doing so. I didn’t understand the difference, and it wasn’t as though he had been forthcoming with the information either.
“Fuck it.” I picked up my desk phone and dialed Beech’s desk number. I had a feeling he wasn’t going to answer, but I tried anyway.
“Detective Beech.”
I was surprised to hear his voice on the other line that I didn’t speak.
“Hello? I am very busy, so if you need –“
“It’s Chalmers.” I wasn’t exactly quiet with the statement, but my voice lacked its usual force. I cleared my throat and waited. I wasn’t sure what I was waiting for, exactly, but I was waiting.
“Oh.” I couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or not. It shouldn’t matter, but I was holding my breath like it did. “Hey.”
“Hey.” That was a start. That was… something.
“Did you need anything?” he asked after a moment. “I’m buried under paperwork. The press has been calling nonstop. I think they’ve even started erecting tents outside the station like the homeless community.”
“Too bad you just can’t round them up and dump them off in Santa Ana,” I said, running my fingers through my hair.
“Yeah.” A beat. “Look, Chalmers, I said some things the other day –“
“It’s fine.” I waved my hand away until I realized I was in my office and he wasn’t here. He was at his desk, probably hunched over with his hand holding his forehead, his thumb on one temple, his middle finger on the other. “We both said somethings we regret.” I licked my lips. Everything had gone dry, and I didn’t understand why that was. “Anyway, I wanted to call you because I have some information about the case.”
“Oh.” This time, I definitely recognized the disappointment.
I frowned. Had he wanted me to call just to apologize? To make things better between us? I didn’t think he actually cared one way or the other. We had said worse things on less important cases. We just ignored that and moved on without an apology uttered from either one of us. I didn’t understand why this case was different.
Maybe it wasn’t the case. Maybe it was Beech. Maybe it was me.
I shook my head. Now was not the time to analyze this.
“I went to the nightclub, Luxe. You know, where Dunham insists she and Eric met,” I said quickly.
“If I remember correctly, Foresburg was the one who said they met at Luxe during the summer,” Beech corrected.
I waved it away. “Yeah, yeah.” I smiled. “Anyway, I asked for footage of that night to see if maybe I could catch the two on camera –“
“Which they’re legally not allowed to give you, considering you are a private citizen.” He arched a brow. “Did you wave your badge and withhold the fact that you were a private citizen?”
I scoffed. “How dare you accuse me of such an illegal thing,” I said, hands on my hips. “Of course I didn’t. Actually, I told him the truth.”
“Him?”
“The bartender.”
Beech shifted his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” he asked. “So you batted your eyelashes and he did something illegal. Even if what you have completely exonerates Foresburg, I can’t use it to prove his innocence because it was obtained illegally.”
“If you would just let me finish…” I reached in my drawer and grabbed the stress ball. It amazed me how much I had already used this thing. I bought it just after Beech and I met about a year ago, knowing he had the full capacity of pissing me off and sending me into a frantic sweep of emotions. He did that to me almost every encounter we shared, but I had totally forgotten about it until a few weeks ago. “I didn’t obtain anything. He told me he couldn’t legally give me a copy. But…”
“But what?” He sounded exasperated and I bit my tongue to keep my laughter in check. I didn’t want to rile him up, especially if I needed his help.
“He showed it to me.”
“He showed you…”
“The footage.” I stopped squeezing the ball, sitting up straight. I thought it was common sense. “I saw Eric and Ashley that night together.”
“I’m assuming you actually saw something I can use or else you wouldn’t be calling me,” Beech stated. I could picture him now, leaning back in his chair, ignoring the other calls, pinching the bridge of his nose. In my entire time of knowing Beech, I never saw him react to his annoyance the way he did when I was the one annoying him. Honestly, I took it as a compliment, although I didn’t think Beech would see things the same way.
“I saw Ashley engaging Eric – who was already drunk, by the way – in a conversation,” I began.
“You’ve done it, Chalmers. You’ve completely cracked open the case. This sounds like something where I need to call for backup.”
“You are such a dick,” I snapped before I could stop myself.
“Actually you’re the dick,” Beech said. I could hear his smirk in his words. “Private dick, right?”
I rolled my eyes and squeezed the ball so hard, I was surprised I didn’t puncture it. “Okay, someone off camera was spiking his drink,” I said.
There was a moment of silence on the other line of the phone. I swung back and forth in my chair, trying to channel my buzzing energy into something. I twirled the cord of the phone around my finger and waited.
God, what was taking him so long to respond?
I opened my mouth, ready to repeat myself when he cleared his throat.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go through this step by step.”
“Sure.” I sat up straight, smug smile on my face, as I released the cord and grabbed a pen I could click.
“You decide to look for surveillance footage at the nightclub Eric says he met Dunham.”
“Yes.”
“And even though you know obtaining any evidence here would be illegal and possibly wouldn’t be admissible based on how it was acquired.”
I nodded, then said, “Yes. Which is why I specifically didn’t ask for a copy. I just wanted the opportunity to see if there was any evidence of them together in the first place.”
I could hear Beech’s other line ring. After a second, it stopped. Beech probably sent them to voicemail.
“Tell me exactly what you saw,” he said slowly.
That had to be a good sign. The fact that he was open to hearing w
hat I saw meant he was open to the fact that Eric might be innocent. At least, there wasn’t enough evidence to say that he raped her without a reasonable doubt.
I told him everything – the way Ashley approached him, the way he turned to engage in the conversation with her, leaving his drink completely unaccounted for. I told him that she used small body gestures to keep him focused on herself, the way she fiddled with a necklace just above her cleavage, the way she flipped her hair and tilted her head, the one moment where he looked like he was going to reach for the drink when she grabbed his arm to stop him under the pretense of feeling up his bicep.
I told him how the person on the other side of Eric seemed completely innocuous. It was difficult to make out any distinguishing characteristic because the footage was in black and white. But there was movement and it was blatant that he or she slid Eric’s drink and poured something in it. Then they threw cash on the bar and left
The entire time I talked, Beech didn’t say anything. I couldn’t figure out if that was a good sign or a bad one. He typically interrupted me, but that was to talk over me or to tell me how any of my theories wouldn’t work.
If he wasn’t doing such a thing now, that had to be because he saw that possibility of me being right this time, right?
I stuck my thumb in my mouth, playing with the nail. I didn’t want to bite it, per se, but I liked tugging at it with my teeth. It helped calm my nervous energy.
“Well?” I urged when I couldn’t take the suspense any longer. “What do you think?”
“I think I have video footage to collect,” Beech said. “You’re absolutely sure about this, right Chalmers? The last thing I need is to look like a fool in front of all of Orange County.”
“I saw it,” I told him firmly. “Trust me, Beech. The time stamp was one fifty-five in the morning. It’s hard to see because it’s grainy and everything is in black and white, but it’s Eric. He’s wearing a long sleeve white thermal. You can’t miss him.” I paused and then, in a softer voice, I added, “I want the truth just as much as you do.”
There was another long silence on the phone. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll get a warrant.”
Before I could reply, before I could maybe apologize for my own behavior or make a smartass comment to ensure everything between us had reverted back to normal, someone came crashing into my office like a hurricane. I opened my mouth, ready to tell the person to calm down, when they removed their baseball hat and familiar brown hair cascaded down and narrowed blue eyes fixed on me like I was an annoying fly.
“Beech,” I said into the phone. “I’m going to have to call you back.”
Without waiting for a response, I hung up the phone.
“Ashley Dunham,” I said, spreading my hands out. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
She sat in the chair, removing her purse from her shoulder and setting it on the floor next to her feet. The whole time, she never took her eyes off of me.
“We need to talk,” she stated, leaving me no room for argument.
Chapter 17
“Sure.” I nodded to a chair in front of my desk and dropped my hands to my lap. The last thing I needed was to show her just how unexpected this visit was. My palms were already perspiring and I wanted to wipe them on my thighs but I didn’t want her to know it. “Please sit.”
“I’ll stand,” she insisted. “My attorney warned me about you, you know.”
She looked down at her fingernails, inspecting her new manicure with a critical eye. The shade of red nearly matched her lipstick. I wondered if that was done on purpose or not.
I let out a dismissive sigh, leaning back in my office chair. Talking about Ryan King was enough for me to relax because he was easy to discuss. My annoyance and disgust with him was a good distraction from the fact that Ashley Dunham was in my office.
“I’m not surprised,” I said.
I crossed my ankles, debating whether or not I should kick them onto my desk or if that was going too far. I wanted Ashley to feel uncomfortable since she was in my office, but I didn’t want to come across as sloppy and unprofessional either. I wanted her to think I was the best at my job, and if she was lying about Eric, I wanted her worried I would figure it out. I wanted her worried I would expose her.
“He also told me you and Eric were together,” she continued, finally pulling her gaze from her nails to look at me. She rested her forearms on the back of my chair, leaning forward. She definitely did not seem intimidated or even bothered by me. In fact, she looked at me like someone might look at shit on their shoe.
“I’m sorry,” I said, trying not to let her words get to me. I could not show her I was needled by her or else would pounce on me like a cat on a laser pointer. “How is that relevant to whether or not Eric raped you?”
“It’s not,” she agreed, “but it is relevant to know that your opinion on the entire situation is biased.”
My brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You’re a woman, an intelligent one.” She stood up straight. “We’re supposed to stick together. We’re supposed to support each other and lift each other up, especially when men knowingly hurt us, when they’re trying to tear us down.”
“I’m not going to believe you just because you’re a woman,” I told her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That would be a disservice to the truth.”
“Please.” Ashley rolled her eyes and headed over to a framed picture of me and my father after one of his games. “The truth? Who tells the truth anymore nowadays? The only thing that matters is who is more believable. Usually in cases like this one, it’s the woman.”
“Please tell me you don’t actually believe that.”
“Oh, come on, Chalmers.” She scoffed, shrugging as she spun on the balls of her foot. “Everyone is afraid to blame the victim, especially now, because everyone is so worried about being politically correct that they stop figuring out what’s right and what’s wrong anymore.”
“So, you’re telling me Eric didn’t rape you.” I crossed my arms over my chest and gripped the sleeves of my shirt tightly. I was tempted to grab my stress ball, but I knew I’d be throwing it at her or at my window and I couldn’t afford to fix a broken window right now. “You tried to extort him, and when that didn’t work, you went public because you want to take advantage of how worried society is about their perception of themselves rather than the truth.”
Ashley rolled her eyes and stopped pacing. “You are so ignorant,” she said. “I can’t believe King actually warned me about you.”
“Yes, well, Ry-Guy has been known to be wrong, even if he won’t admit it.” I pressed my lips together in a tight, condescending smile. “Let me ask you, are you in on this with Ryan. Is he giving you legal advice so he can stay one step ahead of the police? He doesn’t need the money, so I’m not sure why he would want to work with you.” My eyes flickered up and down her person. “Although, you are his type.”
“Gross. Like I would sleep with my lawyer.” She took a seat in the chair – finally – and crossed her long legs. “King is good looking and smart, but I’m not interested.”
“Just in players who make lots and lots of money. You realize Ryan has like, almost as much they do, right?”
“Lawyer aren’t my type.” She flicked her wrist dismissively.
“Why are you here?” I asked, leaning forward so I rested my forearms on the surface of the desk. “It’s not like you’re really proving your innocence. If anything, you’ve compelled me even further from believing you.”
“Like I’m surprised.” She glanced down and started fiddling with her many thin gold bracelets she wore around her right wrist. “The minute I knew who you were and what you used to have with Eric, I knew you wouldn’t even hear me out. You’d believe Eric over me. Hell, if I were you, I’d be in your position. I wouldn’t believe me either.”
Here we go. She was trying to be innocent. She was trying to get me to feel sorry for her. It wasn’t going to wor
k.
“The thing is, Chalmers –“ she looked up at me, her blue eyes hard with resolve – “Eric and I were supposed to be together.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?” I asked, my voice flat. “Together as in intimately or –“
“Together as in I would get to call him my boyfriend,” she snapped. “We had a good thing that night we met at the club. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but the majority of the time, all we did was talk. He talked a lot about you – just not by name. It wasn’t until Ryan King told me about your history that I finally pieced it all together.”
“Wait, wait, wait.”
I put one hand up to try and stop her from talking and the other rested in my lap. I gripped my upper, denim-clad thigh, reminding myself not to say anything stupid. At the end of the day, she was a victim. At least, there was something that had happened to her where a rape kit was taken. I couldn’t let my jealousy and my anger at what she told me now cloud my judgment or I wouldn’t be entitled to call myself a professional.
“It’s the truth,” Ashley insisted.
“I wasn’t going to –“ I cut myself off. I didn’t owe her an explanation. “You’re telling me that Eric told you he wanted to be with you… and you believed him?”
This was cruel. I knew this was cruel. And yet, taking Ashley Dunham down a few pegs brought me satisfaction I wasn’t expecting to experience.
“Why wouldn’t I believe him?” she asked, furrowing her brow. She crossed her legs again, this time in the opposite direction. “He told me how he was heartbroken over you, how he wanted to move on but couldn’t. How he wanted to find someone to help him do just that.”
I raised my brows and gave her a look that implied she was an idiot because this obviously sounded like he was feeding her lies.
“Did you guys have sex after he said those things to you?”
“W-what?” She swallowed and looked away. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“Actually, you’re wrong.” I swallowed, pausing to debate whether or not I should push forward with this. Should I be upfront or would that be deemed as cruel? Was I in my right frame of mind, or was every word out of my mouth tainted with jealousy? “You made it my business when you accused Eric of rape. I’m not saying your sexual history or your sexual behavior is my business because it’s not. But when it comes to Eric, when it comes to your relationship with him, you made it my business and I have a right to question things.”
Ice Breakers Page 10