Sarah Woods Mystery Series (Volume 3)

by Jennifer L. Jennings

  “Good to hear. We'll be releasing you in a few hours. Who's coming to pick you up?”

  “A friend. He should be here any minute.”

  “Very well, then.” The doctor glanced toward the door. “There's a detective waiting to have a chat with you. Do you feel up to it?”

  “Sure. I'll talk to him.”

  A short, balding man in a dark suit walked in. “Hello, Ms. Woods. I'm Detective Bennett,” he said, showing me his badge.

  I pulled the white sheet up to cover my legs and nodded. “Hello. Is Detective James not working tonight?” I asked.

  “He's away for a few days.” He retrieved a pen from inside his jacket. “If you don't mind, I'd like to ask some questions about tonight.”

  “Sure, but I don't think I'll be much help. I never saw his face.” I took a sip of water to moisten my dry mouth. “And I have no idea why he was in my apartment.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  “Black ski mask, black everything.”

  He tapped his pen on his chin, keeping his eyes on the pad of paper in his other hand. “Do you have any enemies, Ms. Woods?”

  “Apparently, I do,” I replied.

  He looked up with arched eyebrows. “Could this be a jealous ex-lover?”

  I laughed. “No. I have no jealous ex-lovers.”

  “An ex-husband?” he asked.

  “My ex would never do something like this,” I insisted.

  “I'd like his name and address for the record.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It's not Daniel, trust me.”

  “Is there anyone else?” he asked. “Has anyone threatened you lately?”

  “I'm a private investigator,” I replied. “I'm sure I've pissed someone off along the way.”

  He nodded as he scribbled down some notes. “Have you received any weird calls or emails recently?” he asked.

  “No,” I said.

  “I'll be speaking with your neighbors to see if anyone saw a guy dressed in black leaving the area.” The detective handed me his card. “Is there someone you can stay with for tonight? Since your apartment is a crime scene, I want to keep it sealed off, just to make sure we've collected any possible evidence.”

  “By the way, you'll find a face towel in the bathroom with blood on it. I think it was his blood. I remember biting him in the shoulder pretty hard.”

  The detective looked up in amazement. “You bit the intruder?”

  “Yes,” I said, “while he was trying to strangle me.”

  Detective Bennett gave me a curt nod. “I'll see to it that the lab gets the blood analyzed. Meanwhile, just take it easy. If you happen to think of anything else, give me a call, okay?”

  “Sure. I will.”

  About ten minutes after the detective left, Carter arrived with a Starbucks cup for me. “Here, have some decent coffee,” he said. “This hospital stuff will kill you.”

  “Just what I needed.” I took the coffee and smiled at him, thankful for his attempt at cheering me up. “I look like shit, don't I?”

  He sat on the edge of my bed. “You're alive, Sarah. Who cares how you look right now?”

  “I need a place to stay tonight. I'm sure Max will let me crash at his apartment. I know where he keeps the spare key.”

  Carter shifted uncomfortably and said, “Why don't you stay with me? The spare bedroom is all ready for you.”

  “Stay with you? Are you sure?”

  “Of course I'm sure – unless you don't want to.”

  “It's not that I don't want to. I'm just a little surprised you offered. I mean, I thought you liked your privacy.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest and gave me a look. “End of discussion. You're staying with me. Now, when can you leave this place?”

  The clock on the wall said 5:13 am. “Soon, I think. But I'll need to go back to my apartment and get some things.”

  “No problem.”

  I glided a hand across my neck. I hadn't had a chance to look in the mirror to see the damage. “Is there any bruising?” I asked him.

  He leaned toward me to get a better look. “A little. Does it hurt?”

  “It's sore. Along with the rest of me. But nothing that won't heal.”

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  I hadn't given Carter many details over the phone, just the fact that an intruder had attacked me. Part of me felt ashamed for being so vulnerable, as if there was something I could have done to prevent it. “I was upstairs at Jackie's, just hanging out with Clifford and watching a movie. At about ten, I went home. He was already in my apartment waiting for me.”

  “Are you sure he was waiting for you?” Carter asked. “Maybe he was just there robbing the place, not expecting you to come home so soon.”

  “Maybe,” I replied. “My car wasn't parked in the driveway like it usually is when I'm home because Jackie took it to work.”

  “So it could have been a random thing.”

  “Could have been, but I don't think so. I haven't had a chance to look through my place to see if anything was stolen but, honestly, I don't have valuables other than a few pieces of jewelry.”

  “Did the guy say anything to you?”

  “No, not a freaking word. But he screamed like hell when I took a chunk out of his shoulder.”

  Carter looked stunned. “You bit him?”

  “It was the only weapon I had at my disposal.”

  “Well, I doubt the guy will be going to any local hospital for a tetanus shot. But still, we should notify all the hospitals in the area in case he does.”

  I leaned back onto the pillow and sipped the coffee. “Maybe it was Bob Owens.”

  Carter raised an eyebrow. “You think?”

  “Maybe Bob Owens found out I was asking questions. Maybe he wanted to shut me up for good. Or at least scare the shit out of me so that I’d stop.”

  “You think he intended to kill you?”

  “I don’t know. If he wanted me dead, why not just stab me in the heart or something? It was almost like he enjoyed beating me up. Like it was some kind of sport. Bob Owens likes sports, so there you go.”

  Carter chuckled. “The way I see it, we have several options. We can call the detective and ask him to bring Bob in for questioning, or we can pay Bob a visit ourselves.”

  “I’d like to get home and see if anything is missing first. Maybe this really was a burglary gone bad.”

  Chapter 19

  Carter and I stopped at my apartment around 7:00 am, just as Jackie had returned from work with my car. We met on the front porch.

  “Oh my God, Sarah, are you okay?” Jackie asked after I explained my ordeal with the intruder. I left out some of the gory details, but the truth was evident on my face and neck.

  “If you think I look bad,” I said, “you should see the other guy.”

  Jackie ignored my joke as she stroked my cheek. “Did the doctor give you some good pain meds? If not, I have some stuff I could give you.”

  “A little Advil should do the trick, but thanks anyway. And, just so you know, I'll be staying with Carter tonight.”

  Jackie eyed Carter up and down with a smile. “Well, I'm glad to know you'll be in capable hands. Is there anything I can do?”

  I gave her a hug. “Just keep yourself safe. And don't open the door for strangers. Even if it's a handsome stranger.”

  “Okay, I promise,” she said.

  Walking into my apartment, I immediately noticed a stain on the wood floor near the window. I froze as a wave of nausea washed over me. I clutched at my neck, remembering how his hands curled around my throat.

  I swallowed hard and kept walking toward my bedroom, noticing that none of my electronics had been stolen. I checked my jewelry box to see if anything was missing. Everything was just as I’d left it.

  I filled a backpack with toiletries, clothes and a nightshirt. I grabbed my laptop and cell phone charger. I planned to call Max and my son, but that could wait until I was settled at Carte
r's house.

  “You got everything?” Carter asked when I emerged from the bedroom.

  “Yep, I think so. It's only for a night.”

  “Have you noticed anything missing in the apartment?” he asked.

  “Nope. Everything is here.”

  Carter nodded. “I guess your theory about Bob Owens might be valid after all.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of.

  Carter took my things and carried them out to my car. “First things first, you look exhausted. Why don’t we get you settled at my place; you can take a nap, and I’ll make some food. Then we’ll deal with Bob.”

  * * *

  I slept for what seemed like an eternity.

  I sat up, looked out the window at the dreary light, and wondered what time it was. Completely disoriented for a moment, I finally realized I was lying in a futon bed in Carter's guest room.

  I wiped my eyes and looked around, searching for a clock, but all I saw was a small desk with a few framed photos of a young girl – blonde with brown eyes and freckles. Carter's daughter? I must have been too tired to notice them before I'd fallen asleep.

  I smelled the wonderful scent of food. Carter was cooking something, and my stomach began to growl. I crawled out of bed, wandered into the hallway, and followed the sound of chopping.

  “I'm starving,” I said, when I entered the kitchen. “What are you making?”

  He looked up from a bowl. “Chicken salad sandwiches. My specialty.”

  “You have a specialty?” I said. “I'm impressed.”

  “Don't be impressed yet. Wait till you taste it.” He set the spoon down and poured me a glass of water. “I thought you were going to sleep all day. I was just about to wake you up.”

  “What time is it?”

  “Almost one o'clock.”

  “I guess I needed the rest.” I guzzled the entire glass of water. It felt cool on my throat. I devoured the sandwich in five minutes.

  Carter handed me a napkin with a smirk. “Are you still up for a chat with Bob? If you’re not feeling up to it, I can go by myself. During your nap, I called Sports Emporium and found out he’s there until six.”

  “I want to go with you. A private discussion in his office will be better than going to his home. That might be an awkward confrontation if his daughter is there.” I downed another glass of water and collected all the dirty dishes.

  “Don’t worry about cleaning up,” he said. “That’s what the maid is for.”

  I stopped to look at him, mouth agape. “You have a maid?”

  He winked. “Just kidding.”

  I threw a napkin at him. “Damn it, I wish I didn’t fall for your tricks.”

  Carter grabbed his keys and tossed them to me. “I’ll meet you out in the car. I need to grab something first.”

  “What do you need?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Chapter 20

  When we arrived at Sports Emporium, we approached one of the young employees at the counter and asked where the manager was.

  She seemed eager to assist us as she pointed toward the back of the store. “He’s in his office, I think. Want me to buzz him for you?”

  “No thanks,” Carter said. “We’re here for a quick visit. We’ll go to him. Which door is it?”

  The girl said, “Just knock on the last one to the left. It says employees only.”

  “Great. Thanks.”

  “No problem,” the girl said, then handed Carter a coupon. “Here you go, sir. Take twenty percent off anything in the store. Today only.”

  He gave her a smile and shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t plan on doing any shopping.”

  The girl shrugged and went back to work.

  Carter and I walked through aisles of camping gear, free weights and baseball gadgets until we found the door we wanted. I tried the knob, and it twisted freely in my hand.

  When I opened the door, I could see Bob sitting at a desk in the small, windowless office. He looked up, quite startled, when Carter and I walked right in as if we owned the place.

  Bob got to his feet, eyes flitting back and forth from me to Carter. He didn’t seem to recognize me with my black eye and fat lip. “Hello, can I help you with something?”

  “I hope so,” Carter replied. “We have a fairly simple request.”

  Bob just stood there, not sure what to make of the two people who just stormed into his office. “Okay, what can I do for you?”

  “You can take off your shirt.”

  Bob blinked rapidly, as if we had just flicked water in his face. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You heard me right,” Carter said calmly. “Take off your shirt.”

  Bob looked at me, trying to make sense of this awkward situation, probably hoping I could explain. I said nothing.

  “Look, I wish you’d just tell me what your problem is,” Bob said. “Is there an issue with some merchandise you purchased from us?”

  Carter lifted his shirt to reveal the gun holstered to his jeans. “I won’t have a problem if you do what I say.”

  Bob’s jaw dropped at the sight of the gun. He stumbled back into his seat. “Who are you guys? What do you want from me?”

  “Where were you last night around ten o’clock?” I asked.

  Hearing my voice, something changed in Bob’s expression. He squinted his eyes at me. “Sarah? Is that you? What happened to your face?”

  “Where were you last night?” I repeated. “Did you come to my apartment?”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “What? I don’t even know where you live.”

  “I was attacked last night,” I said, keeping my voice low.

  “And you think it was me? Jesus, why the hell would I do that?”

  “Stop stalling,” Carter interrupted. “We don’t have time for this. Just take off your shirt, because if you don’t, we’ll have to assume you’re trying to hide the defensive wounds on your shoulder and chest.”

  Bob seemed utterly flabbergasted. “Defensive wounds. Are you serious?” He turned to look at me, his eyes pleading. “Sarah, I’m telling you I had nothing to do with whatever happened last night. Why would I attack you?”

  “Because I found out about the lawsuit with Bridget,” I said. “You were pretty furious with me the other night after dinner.”

  “Sure, I was angry that you were grilling me about it, but that’s no reason to hurt you.”

  Carter cleared his throat. “Okay, Bob, then prove it to us. Take off your shirt.”

  Bob pursed his lips as if he might object, but he didn’t. He simply removed his shirt and threw it on the desk in front of him. “There. Are you happy now, because this is very degrading.”

  There wasn’t a single blemish or bruise on his whole upper body. I let out a sigh of relief. But that relief was mixed with a lot of embarrassment. I didn’t know what to say. Thankfully, Carter spoke for the both of us.

  “Please accept our humble apologies,” Carter said sincerely. “Our mistake.”

  Bob put his shirt back on. “Maybe you guys should explain what’s going on. Then I won’t have to call the police and tell them you busted into my office with a gun and threatened me.”

  Carter and I exchanged a look.

  Finally, I let out a long sigh and said, “This has to do with Bridget Charmaine. Why would an eighteen-year-old girl accuse you of molesting her if you didn’t?”

  Bob collapsed into his chair and closed his eyes. “Not this again.”

  I felt an unexpected jolt of compassion for him. God, if he really was innocent, I couldn’t imagine what he’d had to go through. “I want to hear your side of the story,” I said. “Because I have a feeling something isn’t right about the whole scenario. Were you and Bridget having an affair, and when you broke it off, she got vindictive?”

  Bob threw his hands up. “I was her soccer coach and nothing more. And to be honest, she barely showed up for the practices. One day, she came late to a practice, high as a kite
on some drugs. I told her she was no longer a member of the team because I don’t put up with that kind of behavior. She didn’t seem upset. She just walked off and I never saw her again. A few weeks later, the cops show up at my house and start asking questions. They never arrested me, because they couldn’t prove I molested Bridget. I was shocked that she said I hurt her, because I’ve never done a thing like that in my whole life.”

  “What was her story?” I asked.

  Bob ran a hand through his blonde hair and sighed. “She said I forced myself on her in the parking lot after practice, the same night I kicked her off the team. She even claims to have had a witness, who was willing to testify in court, should it ever come to that. In other words, he was just a friend willing to lie for Bridget.”

  “Did you say Dana Clark is a guy?” I said. “I guess I assumed it was a girlfriend of Bridget’s.”

  “Dana Clark was Bridget’s boyfriend back in high school, or so I was told. I never actually met the kid. But like I said, he apparently was willing to testify on Bridget’s behalf. Maybe she agreed to split the money with him.”

  “If you’re innocent, why not fight the allegations to protect your reputation? You could have won. It was your word against hers.”

  Bob shook his head in defeat. “Our lawyer convinced me to take the deal. That way, I didn’t have to admit guilt and my name wouldn’t be in the paper. If word got out that I was molesting girls, it would have destroyed me. My wife agreed it was the right decision, too. Now, I wish I had stood up for myself and fought it. But because I had no alibi for the time that Bridget said I molested her, my chances weren’t as good.”

  “No alibi?” I asked. “What were you doing?”

  “I was inside the gymnasium, trying to fix one of the goalie nets that got destroyed during the practice. Nobody saw me in there, but my car was parked at the school.”

  “So, your wife,” I said. “Did she believe you were innocent?”

  Bob put his face in his hands for a brief moment. When he finally lowered his hands to look at me, his eyes were red. “Rebecca left me shortly after the settlement. She said she believed I was innocent, but I knew she was lying. I guess it didn’t matter, she was just looking for an excuse to leave anyway.”