“Why is he looking for you, Andie?” she asked gently.
Andie dropped her hands, her eyes suddenly wild with panic. “What did you tell him? Does he know I’m here? I have to get the kids. We have to...to go. I have to grab their things and go.”
She would be caught in a full-fledged panic attack in a moment if Wyn didn’t step in. “Breathe, honey. You’re not going anywhere. Breathe. That’s it.”
She stayed beside her, giving Andrea physical and emotional support until the woman’s breathing slowed slightly.
“I didn’t tell him anything,” Wyn finally told her. “He asked me outright if I knew you and I lied to him. I told him the name didn’t ring a bell. Yes, that’s right. I lied to another officer of the law.”
“I... Thank you.” Andrea hitched in a ragged breath. “That might buy me a little time.”
Wyn slid away. “Time for what? To pack up your kids and go on the run again? What about the flowers?”
Andrea looked at her as if she didn’t know who or where she was. “I can’t... He won’t give up. I’ve been so stupid.”
The bleakness in her voice almost made Wyn shiver despite the warm evening.
“How?” she murmured.
“When I moved away from Portland, I thought it was over. I thought, if I wasn’t there, right in front of him, he would...lose interest and move on. But he never will.”
“Who is Detective Warren to you, Andie?”
“He was my husband’s partner.”
Those were the only words she said, which told Wyn exactly nothing.
“And?” she finally prompted.
“And six months ago, he...raped me.”
* * *
THOSE WORDS. SO STARK and yet so devastating.
“Oh Andie.”
Andrea sat in the grass, pulling her knees forward and wrapping her arms around them. She looked dazed, with that shocky look Wyn was used to in crime and accident victims.
“Sometimes I have to ask myself if it really happened. He was Jason’s partner. His best friend. He seemed...wrecked by Jason’s death.”
That wasn’t an uncommon reaction for partners, who often ended up blaming themselves when something went south. She would have described Cade the same way after her father was shot.
“After the funeral, I was...lost,” Andie went on quietly. “Completely lost. It’s humiliating now when I think about it. Jason handled everything around the house when he was alive, you know? The yard, the cars. I didn’t even know how to start a lawn mower. Rob could see I was struggling and he...started coming around all the time to help. He mowed for me, he helped with leaky faucets, he cleaned out the gutters that first winter. I was so grateful to him at first.”
“And then?”
She gazed at her children, who were now wrestling with Pete, oblivious to their mother’s trauma.
Andie rested a cheek on her upraised knee, watching them.
“Everything started to change around the holidays last year. I gave him a sweater from me and from the kids. I don’t know. Maybe I gave him the wrong signal or something and he got the wrong idea.”
“A sweater isn’t an invitation to sleep with you,” Wyn said gently. Any more than a friendly conversation at a party was a signal that a woman wanted a roofie slipped into her drink.
“He...started to come over more often and wanted to stay later. His wife and I were friends. Our children played together all the time. It didn’t seem right to take so much of his time. And things between us were starting to get...weird. He wanted to hug me and touch me all the time, friendly at first and then...more. Finally I told him I had to stop relying on him so much, that he needed to be with his own family. I told him I couldn’t let him come around anymore, for everyone’s sake.”
The controlling men Wyn had known in her career hated being told what to do, more than anything.
“Let me guess. He didn’t take kindly to that.”
“You could say that. He was so angry. He told me he owed it to Jason to take care of the family he had left behind, that they were brothers. He...told me he was in love with me.”
Two high spots of color on her cheekbones showed stark against the pale of her cheeks. “I didn’t feel the same way. How could I? He was married to my friend! They had children together, a family, a life. Besides that, my grief was still so raw, even though it had been a year since Jason died.”
The children were back to fetch again and Pete was doing a heroic job of keeping them occupied.
“I told him to stop, that I didn’t share his feelings,” Andie said, her voice so low Wyn had to strain to hear. “It was horribly awkward—especially when he didn’t believe me. He said he knew I cared about him too. He wouldn’t listen to reason. I didn’t know what else to do so finally I told him he had to leave or I would have no choice but to call his lieutenant and tell her Rob was harassing me.”
Andrea picked up the trowel and began digging it into the dirt, hacking and hacking at a weed there.
“He got this horrible, ugly expression on his face. He looked like a stranger, not at all the kind friend who was always willing to help. And then he...raped me. I fought and cried but he didn’t seem to care. He just kept saying, ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ Over and over.”
Tears dripped down her cheeks but still she kept hacking at the weed, until it was jagged and broken, a pale skeleton.
Andie wiped at her tears with the back of her hand, leaving a little trail of dirt from her glove. “Afterward, he acted like I was the one who instigated things. That we had a...a relationship or something. He actually said we would have to keep things secret between us for now.”
“I told him there was nothing between us except sexual assault and he laughed. He said I...begged for it. That I seduced him. He said that’s what he would tell his wife and his lieutenant and anybody else, if I was foolish enough to say a word.”
“You didn’t report it.” Wyn didn’t need to state the phrase as a question. The answer was obvious.
Andie closed her eyes. “I was a police detective’s wife. I knew I needed to go to a rape crisis center or the emergency room. That was the right thing to do. I knew it in my gut. I even had the car keys in one hand and my cell phone in the other to call a babysitter. But I couldn’t. I just wanted it all to go away, you know?”
She did. Oh, she did.
“I completely understand,” she murmured, reaching out and covering Andie’s hand with her own. She knew exactly what it was like to wonder what she had done to cause this and, afterward, to wonder if she could have fought harder.
“I put my keys and phone back into my purse and climbed into the shower,” Andie said. “It was the worst decision of my life. I know that now. I just...didn’t have the strength for a court battle.”
“Warren didn’t go away.”
Again, it was a statement, not a question. He wouldn’t have tracked Andie to Haven Point if things between them had ended with the sexual assault.
“He sent me flowers afterward. How sick is that? He sent me flowers with a note that said the night had been unforgettable and he couldn’t wait to see me again. I thought about taking that to his lieutenant but it only seemed to reinforce his version of events. That we had a relationship.”
“You don’t think his superiors would have believed you?”
“He was a hero in the department. Well liked, well respected. Everybody loved him. He had this humble, happy-to-serve thing going on and I knew people would never believe he raped me. I could hardly believe it myself.”
Over the years, she had learned how to carefully tuck away her emotions when she responded to any report of a sexual assault. Her experience wasn’t important to the victim when they were reliving the trauma, the fear, the helplessness. Though she wanted to te
ll Andie she understood perfectly what she had gone through, Wyn knew the time for that would come later.
“So what did you do?”
Andie’s gaze shifted to her children. When she looked back at Wyn, some of the bleakness had been replaced by cold resolve. “I bought a Taser, changed the locks, installed an elaborate security system, and told him when he dropped by later that week that I was recording every conversation between us and wouldn’t hesitate to report him if he ever touched me again.”
“Good for you!” Wyn squeezed her hand.
“Except it wasn’t. He just found different ways to torment me. He started spreading rumors about me around our circle of friends. That I was sleeping around. That I had come on to him and others. That I had cheated on my husband when he was still alive. Some didn’t believe him but enough did that life became...difficult.”
“Is that when you decided to move?”
“No. That was later, when he started trying to get to me through my kids. He pulled Chloe out of class one day to question her about some alleged vandalism at the school, which automatically pinned suspicion on her. He started rumors about them through his children. Then one day in May, Will disappeared from the play yard at his preschool. For an hour, we didn’t know where he was. We scoured the school grounds, looked in all his favorite places. I was just about to call the police when Rob rolled up with Will asleep in the backseat of his car. He said he just wanted to take his old buddy for ice cream and, oh, did I forget to tell the right people? Sorry.”
Wyn wasn’t a mother but she could certainly imagine how terrifying that must have been for Andie. She had disliked the guy instinctively on the phone. Now she hated just the mention of his name.
“I knew I had to leave. I could no longer stay in Portland, where the situation had become more than I could handle. I thought moving would help us make a new start and we could put all that ugliness behind us. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? We never will.”
“If he’s obsessed with you, he’s not going to stop looking, no matter where you run.”
Her eyes darkened with despair. “So what do I do?”
Wyn knew what she would like to do—drive to Portland right now, tie the bastard into knots and toss him off the same bridge where Andie’s husband had died.
“Do you still have the Taser?”
“Yes. I keep it in my purse all the time.”
“Good. And I saw you installed a security system.”
“The landlord agreed to let me upgrade the one that was here as soon as I moved in. It’s very highly rated.”
“Excellent. You’re not going to like my next advice,” she predicted.
“It’s got to be better than spending the rest of my life on the run.”
More color had returned to her friend’s face. Coming up with a plan of action was the most empowering thing a victim could do. That’s why Wyn had started her own investigation that eventually led to the arrest and conviction of Brock Michaels.
“I think you should get in front of this now. Tomorrow, first thing, we’re going to get a restraining order against him. If he comes anywhere near Haven Point, he’ll be arrested for violating it. As soon as that’s in place, I want you to call him, tell him exactly where you are, but tell him firmly and decisively that you do not want to hear from him and he needs to stop harassing you. Tell him you are good friends with the chief of police and several people in the police department. Tell him you’ve told us everything he did and that we believe you.”
“Thank you for that,” Andie said, her chin wobbling.
“You’ve got friends here, Andie. Friends who have your back.”
Andie started to cry again, silent tears that dripped through the smudge on her cheeks.
“I moved to Haven Point simply because I liked the name,” she said softly. “On the surface, it seems like a crazy decision, but I’m beginning to think it was the very best one I could have made.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“THANKS FOR THE HELP, man.” Moose Porter with Idaho Fish and Game filled the doorway, holding the copies Carrie Anne had just helped him make containing everything in Jimmy Welch’s file.
“We’re always willing to lend a hand, but I’ll be honest with you,” Cade said. “I don’t know how much our notes on his vandalism case will help with your poaching investigation. What connection do you see that I’m missing?”
“No connection, really, I’m just thinking it shows an escalating pattern of antisocial behavior in the last month or two. The man has a big chip on his shoulder, that’s clear enough. He seems to think the world owes him something. It’s not a huge leap to think he might be the one setting illegal traps at watering spots along the lakeshore. All our evidence points to him, anyway—especially considering the trapping has stopped since he’s been a guest of Sheriff Bailey at the county jail since you arrested him.”
Though his bail had been set low, Jimmy had burned most of his bridges in Haven Point and couldn’t raise enough to get out of jail.
“Well, let us know if you need to consult further before you bring charges. Wyn Bailey was the arresting officer on the vandalism charges and she’s probably the best one to talk to.”
“Is Officer Bailey in today? I was hoping to catch her.”
Cade didn’t miss the too-casual eagerness in the game warden’s voice and the way his gaze kept darting back to the squad room of the station, empty now since his officers were out on assignments.
He had suspected for a while now that Moose had a thing for Wyn since the man blushed and got tongue-tied whenever she was around. Cade couldn’t help a pang of sympathy.
Apparently he and Moose both had it bad.
He had missed her that morning. A half-dozen times already, he had thought of something he needed to tell her. He’d even gotten up once, before he remembered her desk was empty.
He needed to cut it the hell out. His only interactions with Wynona Bailey should be related to department business.
He couldn’t help thinking Moose was just the kind of guy she needed. Solid, earnest, hardworking, without the truckload of baggage Cade seemed to cart with him wherever he went.
“I’m afraid she’s not coming in today.”
He didn’t add that Wynona was scheduled to work a half-day shift that morning but she’d called him and, in a terse exchange, told him she needed to take time off to handle some personal business.
She had hung up the moment he agreed. She hadn’t told him why she needed the time and the curiosity was driving him crazy. A few weeks ago, before her suspension, she’d asked for the afternoon off on this date so she could get things ready for a bridal shower she was throwing for McKenzie Shaw later. Maybe she’d run into some kind of party-related crisis, but that didn’t seem like Wynona.
“Okay. Well, I guess I should have called first.”
“That might be a good idea, next time.”
“Okay. Well, if she comes in, tell her I said hi, okay?” Moose asked, his hands fidgeting with the file.
What was this, junior high school? Next the guy would be asking him to slip a note in her locker for him.
Cade forced a smile. “Sure. No problem.”
“Thanks, Chief. Appreciate it. I’ll see you later.”
Moose took his time walking out of the station, as if he hoped Wyn might magically appear on his way out. He stopped to talk to Carrie Anne for a minute then left, with that hopeful look still on his broad features.
When Moose was gone, Cade settled back to take care of the paperwork that always seemed to pile up in a small-town police department when he handled everything from human resources to public relations to parade permits.
After a few minutes, he had to accept that his concentration was shot. Thanks to Moose, now he couldn’t stop thinking about Wyn
and wondering again why she’d needed that extra time off.
Was she ill? Was it a problem with Charlene? Did she need help with something around her house?
This was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t any of his business. Personal leave was just that. Personal. He was her boss and he needed to keep that front and center in his mind.
What the hell was he going to do?
He was in an impossible situation, through nobody’s fault but his own. If he hadn’t kissed her that day after the fire, everything would be the same as the past two and a half years. They both had always worked well together and were able to socialize comfortably. He considered her a good friend, someone he could confide in, count on.
Now this awkwardness seemed to permeate every interaction.
Their lives were connected on so many levels, it seemed impossible to extricate her from his mind and heart. He couldn’t seem to escape her, no matter what he did or where he went.
She was his neighbor, his best friend’s sister, his late mentor’s daughter, his best police officer.
He was in love with her.
The realization had been seeping in slowly for weeks; now it was like the raging flood that had threatened the houses along the Hell’s Fury last summer.
He was in love with his best officer. His best friend’s sister. His mentor’s daughter.
He probably had been for a while now but Cade had never been in love before. At first, he hadn’t recognized this soft tenderness, the desire to be with her all the time, to make her smile and try his best to make everything better for her.
He was in love with her and if she knew what he had done—or failed to do, more precisely—she would despise him.
Did her personal-leave request have anything to do with that stupid misfiled witness statement?
While he was dealing with the shock and dismay of realizing he was in love with her, Cade had also decided something else while he was tossing and turning in the early hours of the morning.
He had to tell her the truth.
Maybe not today, maybe not even this week, but he needed her to know.
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