He Was Not There

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He Was Not There Page 6

by P. D. Workman


  Not that he’d told her anything about what Teddy had done. But she wasn’t stupid.

  “I’m just fine.” He popped the top of his can and wiggled closer to her, cuddling up to show her that he was over what had happened with Teddy Archuro and she didn’t need to worry about dealing with a head-case. No more than usual.

  “Okay. If you’re sure. I wouldn’t want it to set you off.”

  He thought about his nightmares the night before and didn’t admit to her or himself that she might be right. He was over it. He was completely okay dealing with Heather’s case.

  “Anyway… I had to drive out to look at the police file today and see what we had to go on.”

  “I gather from your tone that it wasn’t very much.”

  “No. The file is pretty small, and it looks like they pretty much blamed her for what had happened. Why was a young woman walking through the park on her own, you know? And even though she had a sexual assault kit done… the evidence was all destroyed. There’s nothing left to test.”

  “Ouch. That’s not very helpful. I had heard that a lot of kits had been destroyed. Or else stored but never tested.”

  “I’d understand if it was never tested. They didn’t have the ability to do it back then, and they can’t have every kit that was ever taken tested all at once. There has to be some kind of decision made as to priority, and then it takes time. But destroying it… I just can’t fathom how they thought that was a good idea at the time. The statute of limitations wasn’t even up. How could they ever prosecute anyone if they destroyed all of the evidence?”

  “I guess they didn’t think there was any way they’d ever be bringing anyone to trial.”

  “Exactly. A stranger attack, no one to try to match it against… so they just decided it was worthless.” Zachary shook his head. “Tell me that wouldn’t happen with today’s protocols and procedures. Tell me that there are no destruction polices for hard evidence in a murder or aggravated assault.”

  “Most of the police departments have pretty strict retention policies now. Which causes other difficulties, like finding enough warehouse space.”

  Zachary sipped his cold drink, savoring the sweetness at the end of a long, hard day. Of course, a beer would be even better, but he intentionally didn’t keep any alcohol in the apartment.

  “So it was a wasted trip?”

  “I’m still going to find out what I can. See if I can pick up on any leads or avenues they might have left unexplored. But I’m not really hopeful of finding anything like that… much less the rapist. It was just too long ago. We can’t go back and question people who were in the area at the time.”

  “There might still be some old residents. But after thirty years, you’re not going to have a whole lot of luck that way. Either people weren’t there that long ago, or if they were old enough to observe anything and know that there was a problem, they are getting on in years now and aren’t reliable as witnesses.”

  “Yeah. We might be able to find a nosy neighbor, if we’re lucky, but the chances that the neighbor would have a lead that was never followed up on…”

  “Not great,” Kenzie agreed.

  “I have some pictures. Do you want to look at them?”

  Kenzie shrugged. “If you want. How bad are they?”

  “She was pretty battered. But I’m sure you’ve seen worse.”

  “I probably have, but sexual assault is always a difficult one to deal with.”

  “Worse than murdered children?”

  Kenzie just had a sip of her drink and didn’t answer.

  Zachary grabbed his tablet and pulled up his photo stream to look at the pictures of the file photos. He made sure they were not labeled on the front with Heather’s name, then passed the tablet over to Kenzie to allow her to examine them. Kenzie put her drink down on the coffee table and slowly swiped through the photos. A couple of times she panned or zoomed the pictures, taking a closer look.

  “Poor girl. He must have been pretty strong.”

  “That’s what I figured.” There had been a lot of bruising. Her arms where he had held her down. Her battered face. Her ribs and her thighs. She had fought back, but he had overwhelmed her with force.

  “I think these are bite marks,” Kenzie said, pointing to one of the bruises, outlining a semicircle shape. “We can compare those to the guy’s teeth, if you get a suspect. Teeth do change over time, they might have drifted or he might even have had braces to straighten them later in life. He could have implants or dentures now. But if you’re lucky, he’s still got his permanent teeth and hasn’t done anything with them, and we’ll still be able to compare the positions against the bruises.”

  Zachary nodded eagerly. At least it was something. It wouldn’t help him to find a suspect, but if he had one, they might be able to rule him in or out. “That would be good.”

  “If it was modern-day, they would have swabbed those for saliva, and have a DNA profile.”

  He was quiet while she continued to look through the pictures.

  “A lot of sexual assault victims don’t have any visible injuries,” Kenzie said. “But it’s pretty obvious in this case. Scratches and gouges and restraint injuries on her arms. Back abrasions. The genital bruising and tears. The level of violence… there shouldn’t have been any doubt that this was non-consensual, even disregarding her age, which I would put at thirteen to fifteen?”

  Zachary nodded. “Fourteen.”

  Kenzie sighed, shaking her head. “And they never found the guy?”

  “No. No suspects. It was a stranger and she couldn’t describe him.”

  “What else did they find? Did they log any fingerprints? Hairs? Plant matter and soil? Footprints?”

  “They got some hairs. Dark and straight. They were destroyed along with everything else. Not much else. There is some fingerprint evidence; I have to look through it. Not sure what I’m going to find. Just partials. Nothing that they could match at the time, but the officer has agreed to run them through the system and see if they have anything now. Back then, they didn’t have a properly automated system and weren’t connected to other states.”

  Kenzie handed the tablet back to him. “I hope you can find something. Because I don’t see much here that could be used to identify the perp now. Other than the bite marks. Possibly.”

  Zachary nodded and put the tablet on the side table.

  “So,” Kenzie settled against him, pulling his arm around her shoulders, “how are you doing?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah? This hasn’t bothered you at all?” She indicated the tablet. “You aren’t triggered by it?”

  Zachary shook his head, aware that he was not being completely truthful. While he was trying not to let Heather’s experience affect his life, it had triggered nightmares and at times he had trouble untangling his experiences from hers. But Kenzie didn’t need to know that. He wasn’t melting down over the details of Heather’s assault. He wasn’t constantly fighting flashbacks. It was bothersome, yes, but probably no more than it would be for a normal person. He had a hard time judging exactly what impact it would have on Kenzie.

  “Good.” Kenzie snuggled close and warm against his body.

  Zachary breathed slowly, trying to relax all of his muscles so that she’d know he was enjoying himself and not overreacting to her proximity.

  “What do you want to do tonight?” Kenzie asked. “Have you eaten?”

  “Uh… I’ve had some food.” But mostly, he’d been thinking more about getting the documents on the file digitized and getting home to go over them, and he hadn’t stopped for anything nutritious along the way. Not a real meal, like she would have expected him to have.

  “Some food meaning a cup of coffee and something else from the gas station?” Kenzie suggested.

  “Well… yeah, something like that.”

  She laughed. “At least you’re telling me the truth. Should we order in? Pizza? Chinese? Or you want to go out?”

  �
��I don’t want to go out,” he said immediately. He was glad to be home and didn’t have any desire to leave again so soon. “Whatever you want to eat is fine.”

  “Well, let’s just go with a pizza. I’ve been behaving myself lately, so I deserve a treat.”

  “Why don’t you go ahead and order. And I could… find something on TV for us?”

  “Sure. But no more thrillers. How about something a little more romantic tonight?”

  She gave him a look that told him she wasn’t just talking about the movie. He quickly analyzed whether that meant she was looking for some attention before the pizza came, or whether she would want to wait until after the movie was finished. They had only recently become intimate. They had taken their relationship slowly, and she’d been pushing for more romance before Christmas, but he hadn’t been able to do anything about it then, too mired in depression.

  It wasn’t until he had gotten home after the serial killer case that they had actually taken the next step. Not because Zachary felt like he was ready or Kenzie had pushed harder, but because he wanted to prove that he hadn’t been affected by Teddy. He’d wanted to prove it to Kenzie so that she would stop asking questions and telling him that he needed more therapy. By showing her that he was in full working order, she could stop worrying about him and they could just enjoy their relationship and the increased closeness.

  “Zachary?”

  He looked at Kenzie. She had her phone to her ear, and at first he wasn’t sure whether she had spoken to him or to the pizza place.

  She said his name again and he smiled cheerfully. “Just thinking about a movie. Let’s see what’s on.”

  She watched him like a hawk while he turned the TV on and browsed through what was available.

  “How about an old classic?”

  She looked at the Bogart he had selected. “A bit too slow for my tastes. A little bit of action is fine.”

  “Uh, sure.” He continued to scroll through. Kenzie turned her attention back to the phone to finish the transaction, then hung up.

  “Okay, dinner and a movie, and then a little action of our own.”

  He loved her laughing eyes and wildly curly dark hair. She was fun to be with and supportive in spite of his many shortcomings and issues. He counted himself lucky to have her as a girlfriend. He just wished sometimes for the space to decompress by himself and not to have to worry about putting on a mask for her.

  9

  Zachary awoke to someone touching him. He instantly clenched every muscle in a full-body flinch, pulling back and gasping for air, trying to figure out where he was and who was threatening him. It only took a split-second to recognize his own bedroom, and another second or two to focus on Kenzie beside him.

  “Oh. Sorry. You startled me.”

  She laid her hand back on his shoulder, warm and firm. “Your phone.”

  “Huh?”

  “Your phone is ringing,” she pointed out. “I didn’t know if it was anything important or whether you would just want to let it go…?”

  “Oh.” Zachary rolled over away from her and felt for the phone on the side table. He managed to pick it up and fumbled for the on-screen answer button before he processed the name on the screen.

  Bridget.

  He couldn’t exactly talk to his ex-wife with his girlfriend in bed with him. Zachary looked around for something to put on so he could at least go into the other room. Kenzie would assume that it was a confidential client call. She wouldn’t know it was Bridget.

  But he had already touched the answer button and he could hear Bridget’s tinny voice coming out of the speaker. He hoped it wasn’t loud enough for Kenzie to hear, because she seemed to be rousing herself and looking at the time. It was early, but not as early as Zachary used to wake up before the attack. Zachary scrubbed at his eyes with a fist as he hurried out of the bedroom.

  He put the phone to his ear as he sat down on the couch. He grabbed one of the cozy blankets on the couch that Kenzie liked to cuddle up with and wrapped it around his waist.

  “Hello?”

  “Zachary? What happened, did you drop the phone? I was asking you—”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything is fine,” she enunciated as if she were talking to someone who didn’t know English well. “I was calling to make sure that everything was okay with you.”

  Zachary shook his head, wondering what it really was that she wanted to know. She didn’t just call him to ask him how he was without a reason. There was always something. Some ulterior motive or favor. Or because she knew that he really was in bad shape. But he wasn’t. He was doing very well for himself.

  “Yeah, sure. Everything is good with me.”

  “Everything? Because I was worried, you know, about how you were doing after that horrible case. I can’t imagine how difficult that must have been for you.”

  If anyone could understand what he had been through, it was Bridget. Because she too had been kidnapped. She hadn’t been tortured, but she had not been given the necessities of life, and when he had finally found her, she had been at death’s door. She knew what it was like to suffer at the hands of someone who was not in their right mind.

  “It wasn’t fun,” Zachary agreed, “but I’m over it. Everything is back to normal and I’ve got plenty of cases to take care of, so everything is moving forward at a pretty brisk pace.”

  “Okay. As long as you’re sure. I don’t want you pretending to me that everything is perfectly okay when it isn’t.”

  That hadn’t been the way it was when they were married. She could afford to say it now when they weren’t living in the same house and she didn’t have to deal with his depression and anxiety and flashbacks. She just dealt with the public Zachary, the one who was doing his best to show everybody else that he was perfectly competent.

  When they had been together, it had been different. She railed at him to quit acting like such a loser and man up. She had hated the cases that he ‘wasted his time’ on—surveillance of cheating couples, insurance work, accident reconstruction, skip tracing, all of the things that brought in money on a regular basis. He couldn’t afford to do nothing while he waited around for the ‘right’ job, but that was what she had wanted him to do. Just take the cases that really sounded like they were important, that he could get good money. The real money.

  She no longer had to see the way that he lived. It was ironic that he didn’t get any of the really big jobs that had gotten his name on TV until after they had broken up. She had never gotten to be a part of that lifestyle. She would have liked it. The name recognition. The people who saw him at the store and stopped and stared for a minute, trying to figure out where they knew him from, and then were too awkward to approach him to talk to him about it. She would have loved that.

  But being a big name wasn’t necessarily good for a private investigator. He didn’t want people to recognize him when he was out on surveillance or reconnaissance.

  “It must have been hard for you,” Bridget pressed.

  “Yes, but I’m fine now.”

  “Okay.” She sounded uncertain, which wasn’t like Bridget. “That’s good, then.”

  He waited but she didn’t seem to have anything else to say. “Did you need something?”

  “No. No, that was all, really. I just wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.”

  “Okay. Talk to you later, then.”

  He hung up. For a few minutes, he just sat there, blinking his bleary eyes and trying to finish waking up. He wanted to go back to sleep, but he knew he should be working on client files, not lazing around in bed. It was early, but Bridget knew his usual schedule and would have assumed that he’d been up for a couple of hours already.

  A movement caught his eye and he realized that Kenzie was standing there looking at him. Her hair was tousled from sleep. He wasn’t sure how long she had been there, great detective that he was.

  “Was that bloody Bridget?” Kenzie demanded,
clearly pissed.

  Not sure how much she had heard or guessed from his body language, Zachary decided it was best not to lie.

  “Uh… yes.”

  “What is she calling you about? She’d better not be trying to get you to do another job for her!”

  “No. Just checking to see how I am.”

  “Checking to see how you are? Bull.”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Really?” Her tone was suspicious. “Have you been over there lately? Are you tracking her again?”

  Zachary’s face heated. He shook his head. “No. I haven’t even been near her neighborhood. And I’m not tracking her. I’m behaving myself.”

  It sounded juvenile, but she was the one treating him like a teenager. He hadn’t done anything. Just answered a call from his ex-wife. She might have been sick or in need of his help. He couldn’t just ignore her.

  “You need to tell her to take a hike,” Kenzie told him. “Block her calls. She’s got Gordon now. She doesn’t need to be trying to reel you back in.”

  Zachary stood up, gathering the blanket around him. “She’s not getting anyone back.”

  She paused, considering whether to go on with her tirade or to back off. “Yeah?” She asked in a softer voice.

  “Who’s here with me? You or her?”

  “Me.”

  “Then she’s not getting me, is she?”

  Kenzie gave a little smile. “No.”

  In the beginning, Kenzie had been entertained by the post-divorce animosity from Bridget. Far from feeling threatened, Kenzie had even asked Bridget to check in on Zachary once when he was very low and she was worried for his safety but couldn’t get there herself.

  But Kenzie’s amusement had faded as Bridget’s anger toward Zachary waned and she had asked him to take on a case for her. Kenzie had not been impressed by Zachary’s immediate agreement and his hopes that it signaled a healing of the rift between them and maybe, just maybe, there was still hope of them getting back together again.

  Kenzie no longer thought Bridget was one bit funny.

  “Do you have work today?” Zachary looked at his phone, trying to remember what day of the week it was.

 

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