“Has she said anything yet?” I ask Sofie.
“She’s responsive. Seems a little steadier today.”
Glancing down at her, I’m struck by how small she seems. She’s wearing a sweater and a pair of jeans tucked into dark boots. She may be tall for a woman, but at six-two, I still tower over her.
I look away. “I hate bringing you here.”
Two uniformed officers guide Elizabeth to a secluded conference room. She keeps her eyes on her shoes to avoid the inevitable stares the entire way.
Sofie puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Don’t be,” she says. “The way I look at it is that I get to help people the way I wish I’d been helped.”
When Sofie was younger, just a teenager, she was attacked and raped by someone she considered a friend. She never told anyone—not even her boyfriend, who happens to be her now husband, Jack. For ten years, she could barely stand to come back to Nassau, let alone confront what happened to her. When her mother died, leaving her two brothers, Donnie and Rafe orphaned, she moved back to take care of them. In doing so, she also had to face the man who brutalized her.
I kiss her hair. “You’re one of the strongest people I know, you know that, right?”
She smiles up at me. A couple years ago, I would have been hard pressed to think she could be so happy when she’d always been so haunted. “Quite the compliment coming from you.”
“Are you sure you won’t leave Jack and run away with me?”
Laughter dances in her eyes. “You’d better be glad he’s deployed or you’d have to take that up with him.”
“How is he doing?”
“Happiest he’s ever been, I think. You’ve talked to him. He missed it.”
I think back to my time in the Marines as a sniper. Most of my job involved waiting, lots of it, and the rest was choosing whether or not the target on the other end of my scope was going to die on that particular day. Unlike Jack, when my second tour was up and my marriage crashed and burned, I was ready to get out. Ready for a change. Being a cop is the best thing to ever happen to me. I get to help save lives instead of taking them.
One of the officers comes out to greet us. Sofie shakes his hand and then looks to me. “Ready?”
The conference room isn’t cozy, but we do what we can to make Ms. Gallagher feel comfortable. Sofie takes a seat next to her and I offer her a cup of water.
“Thank you for coming in today,” I tell her as I take a seat in front of her.
She nods and the smile she sends my way is wobbly and doesn’t reach her eyes.
“I’m going to keep this as to the point as possible. I know Sofie has explained the process to you. Do you have any questions?”
Ms. Gallagher nods after a quick glance at Sofie for reassurance. “N-no, thank you. She was very clear. I just want to get this over with.”
“I won’t take up much of your time. Why don’t you start with what you were doing yesterday evening?”
She takes a sip from the paper cup and wipes her lips with trembling fingers. “Uh, it was a Tuesday, so I had an evening class—bio. I didn’t get out until eight or so.”
“At the community college?” At her nod, I note it down on my pad and look back up at her. I don’t want to pester her with questions and I’ve found it best to let them retell the events in their own words. It helps with recall and allows for greater detail than a question by question interview.
“My car was parked on the other side of campus, and it’s easier to cut through the park. Faster. So I was walking through the main sidewalk there when this guy comes up to me.”
“Was there anyone around?”
She bites her lip, looks down at her hands. “Um, maybe? A lot of people choose to take that shortcut, so there should have been. I wasn’t paying much attention. I have a Spanish exam Friday and I was studying flash cards on my phone. I should have been paying attention. It was so stupid.”
Sofie places a hand on Ms. Gallagher’s. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“He came at me from behind, surprised me. At first he—I mean, he was nice. He was cute.” She buries her face in her hands. “I was flattered. I can’t remember what he said because he hit me.” Her fingers probe the bandaged area on her head. “Then I was in the woods and I couldn’t see anyone.”
I make another note to contact her class and others who may have been walking on the same trail. She may not have seen them, but there could have been a witness.
As I write, she continues, “I know I should have fought, should have called out for help, but I was just so scared.”
“I know this is hard, but every detail may help catch the man who did this to you.”
She nods and wipes her eyes. “The more scared I got, the more he . . . liked it. Jesus.” Sofie makes a sound of encouragement. “There was a sound, there must have been something that spooked him because he turned back like he heard something. I didn’t even think about it, I just pushed him and he lost his balance. I got away. I just ran. I could barely see, couldn’t even recognize where I was.”
“I know it’s not easy to remember these things, but do you remember if you hit him? Scratched him, maybe?”
While she thinks, she digs her knuckles into her eyes. “I don’t, I don’t know. Maybe?”
“You’re doing just fine,” Sofie says next to her.
“Were you able to get a good look at him? Was there anything about him that was familiar?” Most victims know their attacker. In a high number of date rape and sexual assault cases, the offender is someone they knew. Like in Sofie’s case. The thought makes me gnash my teeth, but I focus on Ms. Gallagher’s response.
She shakes her head. “It was dark, but he didn’t have his face covered. I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize him, though. I just remember that he was attractive, like I said.”
“Would you be up for sitting with one of our sketch artists?
A shrug, then a sigh. “Sure. I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll try.”
I hand her my card. “If there’s anything else you remember, anything at all, or if you feel like you’re in danger, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Thank you, Detective Blackwell.” She stands and rounds the table, coming to a stop in front of me. “Thank you,” she says again. For a second it looks as if she wants to give me a hug, but then she turns and leaves.
“Doesn’t get any easier,” Sofie says, once the door closes behind her.
I glance back at my notes, the file with the crime scene information. If she hadn’t gotten away, I can’t even imagine what would have happened to her. Even though she got away, I know the man who did this to her is still out there.
“No, it doesn’t.”
I see Sofie safely out to her car. “Give the boys a hug for me,” I tell her.
“I will.” She pauses before she gets in. “You take it easy, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
She smiles and waves as she drives off.
As I’m walking back to the station for paperwork, a man loitering by the entrance catches my eye. At first, I don’t recall why he looks familiar, then I remember him from Sienna’s porch. He was the one she was having the heated conversation with.
Frowning, I come to a stop beside him. If I didn’t recognize him from that day, I wouldn’t have paid him any mind. He’s around thirty with a budding paunch and thinning hair. The kind of man who’s gone to pot. Up close his suit is faded and worn and the easy charm I thought he had comes across more like desperation.
“Something I can help you with?” I ask, looping my thumbs in my belt.
“My name is Phil Exeter. I’m a journalist out of Miami. I’d like to talk to you about a person you may be involved with, a Sienna Davenport.”
My eyes narrow. It’s been a long night and I don’t want to deal with him right now. The mention of Sienna, though, keeps me from walking away. “What about her?”
“I’d love to talk to you sometime. I have
information I think you’d find valuable about your new neighbor.”
“What do you want with Sienna?” I ask bluntly.
“Professional interest. Like I said, I’m a reporter.”
“Pleasure meeting you, Mr. Exeter, but I have nothing to say to you.” When I start to leave he quickens his pace to match mine and grabs my arm. I give him a look that stops him in his tracks.
“Tread carefully, there,” I say.
He holds up his hands. “No offense meant. Here,” he says and dips into his pocket, coming out with a business card. “Why don’t you call me if you have any questions. I’ll be in the area for a few days if anything comes up.”
“If anything comes up?”
“When you’re ready to talk, call that number,” is all he says before smiling thinly and then walking off.
I look at his card again, then toss it in the trash.
Hours later, I stagger to my truck, my feet dragging and my brain a throbbing mass of images I can’t seem to forget. I toss the folder with the Gallagher case information onto the passenger seat and chug a can of soda I got from the vending machine. Then, without looking back at the station, I start my truck and back out of the parking lot.
I should go straight home, take a shower, eat some real food, and park myself in front of the television for a couple hours. I should get a good night’s sleep so I’ll be ready for a long day of interviewing the college students I managed to track down who were in the park around the same time Elizabeth was.
I know if I go home to that empty house, the only thing I’ll think about is turning right back around and heading to the first open liquor store. For a while, I just drive aimlessly, but before long, I end up pulling into my driveway, my focus turning to my neighbor’s house.
Tonight, she has the front window open, which is different, but all the lights are on again. What is it with that woman and turning every light in the joint on?
I tell myself to just go inside my own damn house, but a sound from inside distracts me.
I slip from the cab of my truck and shut the door quietly. Making sure not to walk on the gravel, I make my way to her front porch.
“What am I going to do with you?” she’s saying. “Look at this mess! First you jump all over me and then you get me all wet. No, don’t kiss me anymore!”
My brows damn near into my hairline, I bang on the screen door. “Sienna?”
She doesn’t answer me, but I hear her say, “You stay right here or I’m not going to give you a surprise later.”
Anger, irritation, and plain male stupidity burns away every trace of exhaustion. Now I know I don’t have any claim to this woman, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t entertained the idea of seeing if she tastes as good as she looks. The thought of her with another man plain makes me want to hit something—or someone. When she appears in the hallway with her hair askew and clothes rumpled as if she just threw them on, I scowl at her.
The angry look stops her in her tracks a few steps away from the door. She frowns, those lips I’d been daydreaming about only make me even more irritated. “What did I do now?”
“Well, for one thing you can tell me why a reporter was looking for you at the station today.”
Her brows furrow. “A report—shit!”
“A Mr. Phil Exeter?”
“You didn’t talk to him did you?” she eyes me warily.
“I told him I didn’t want to hear anything he has to say and I had no comment.”
The tension leaves her shoulders and only incites my curiosity. “Wanna tell me what that’s all about?”
She sighs. “Not really.”
“Gonna have to open up to me one day, Sienna.”
“Not today, okay?”
Before I can answer, a brown, furry mass darts down the hall and heads straight for Sienna. “What is—”
She shrieks, throwing up her hands to block the wet dog barreling at her. “Rocky! You were supposed to wait in the bathroom so I could dry you off, silly boy.”
Struck dumb, I can only stare as she crouches down to run her hands over the dog’s soaking wet fur. “You have a dog?”
She glances up at me, one hand still stroking over him. “I do now. I adopted him from the shelter today.”
“I’m an idiot.”
“Most men are,” she says offhandedly. “Did your aunt need something?”
“No, she uh—” I pull my gaze away from the dog and catch her curious look. “I wasn’t going to come here,” I say, still standing on the other side of the screen.
“Then why did you?”
I rub a hand over my closely cropped hair and then over my neck and roll my shoulders impatiently. “I wanted to see you.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Shakes her head with a confused laugh. “You wanted to see me? Why?”
I take a step closer. “Do I have to stand on the porch talking through the door? This is becoming a bad habit of yours.”
“What?”
“Keeping me out.”
She takes a step back. I wonder if it is intentional or instinctual. All I know is that it makes me want to follow. “It’s the smart thing to do,” she says, and she’s probably right.
I pull the screen open then remember the locks and wait for her to undo them. When she does, I take a step forward. “Let me in, Sienna.”
“Logan, I—”
“I’m not here to get in your pants.” I grin at her when her mouth presses into a thin line, the color drains from her face, and I swear I see the walls around her fly back into place. Something about what I just said has her closing off again, and I don’t like it. “Well, that’s not true, but not tonight.” I try to back pedal, but she just closes into herself a bit more. I’m screwing this all up, so I switch my approach. “I just need to get out of my own head for a while. Will you help me do that?”
She hesitates for a second, arguing with herself. While she thinks it over, I hunker down to offer the dog a hand to sniff. He does so hesitantly, unsure of me. “What’s his name?”
“Rocky,” she says.
“That’s a good name for such a manly guy, huh?” I stay down until he licks my hand, ignoring the scent of wet dog. “He looks like he could use something to eat.”
“He was abandoned. They gave him a bath at the shelter, but when I got him home, we decided to do another just in case. He is in pretty bad shape.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog.” I give him a gentle rub, which is all he allows, and then stand.
“What kept you from getting one?”
I shrug. “I joined the Marines right after high school. Moved around too much and wasn’t home enough to keep one. Then after I got married, my wife never wanted one.”
She blinks at me. “You are married.”
“Was. Young and stupid,” is all I say. “We got divorced after I left the Marines. She didn’t believe fidelity applied when I was overseas.”
She studies me for a few long seconds, her blue eyes thoughtful as Rocky butts up against her legs. “I have some leftover casserole. Are you hungry?”
“I could eat, but only if it’s not out of pity.”
Her lips pull into a reluctant smile, and I know I’ll be finding more excuses to come to her house after work in the coming days.
“Pity you?” she teases. “Never.”
Piper
I open the fridge, grab the dish, and glance back over my shoulder to find his eyes on me. “You want a beer?”
“What?” He refocuses on my face. “Oh, sure.”
My expression makes him grin, changing his whole brooding, devilish face into a younger, more boyish version. “I’m not going to jump you, Sienna.”
I glance down at the bottle in my hand. “I, uh . . .”
He laughs. “Relax. I won’t bite.”
Shaking my head, I hand him the beer. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
He just smiles.
The kitchen is only big enough for a small table and tw
o chairs and with Logan’s huge form standing in the middle, it seems even smaller. He takes a place at the table and makes an appreciative noise when I set a beer in front of him.
“Thanks. You know, you’ve only been here a couple weeks and already this place feels more homey than mine.”
I pull dishes from the cabinets and set them on the counter. Glancing back over my shoulder, I say, “Why’s that?”
“Probably because I’ve never unpacked.”
“How long have you lived there?”
“Three years,” he says, and even though I can’t see him, I hear the smile in his voice.
I sputter, laughter bubbling in my throat. “Three years and you haven’t unpacked?”
“I figure boxes are practically ready-made storage.”
Rocky bumps his head into my legs when he scents the casserole I’m spooning onto the plates, and I idly pat his head with my free hand. “I bet it drives Diane crazy.”
He smiles behind the beer. “Oh, yeah. She hates it, but she refuses to unpack it for me, too.”
The microwave beeps, and I pull out the first plate. “Good for her. She shouldn’t be doing those things for you. You’re a grown man.”
When I set the plate of food in front of him he grins. When he reaches out and wraps his long fingers around my wrist, I freeze. “What?” I ask.
“Got you to make me dinner, didn’t I?”
I pause and then my eyes widen. “You little sneak! So that’s the real reason why you came here. You’re worse than the dog.” Rocky, who’s been begging for food since I opened the casserole dish perks up. I roll my eyes at the pair of them.
With my own plate in hand, I sit across from Logan. Rocky settles in between our feet under the table. It’s . . . cozy, which is funny because Logan and cozy don’t seem like they’d correlate, but I forgot how nice it is to just hang out with another person. I take a fortifying sip of my own drink. “Why’d you need to get out of your own head?” I ask.
He glances up at me and chews his bite of food slowly before swallowing. “I’m sure you’ve probably figured it out.”
First to Fight Box Set: Books 1-5 Page 64