Taken by Tuesday (Weekday Brides Series)

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Taken by Tuesday (Weekday Brides Series) Page 12

by Catherine Bybee


  When Mike walked in the door, she met him with a frown. “What? Aren’t you supposed to be making all the women happy in another country?”

  Mike offered a smile, even though his eyes told her he didn’t feel it. “You’re the only woman I’m thinking about right now.”

  She accepted his hug. “I’m OK, Mike.”

  “Really? Yesterday you were doing an Exorcist remake. I’d have made a YouTube video if I needed the money.” His eyes were smiling a little now.

  When Judy laughed, her skin stretched over the swelling on her face. “It hurts to laugh. Stop.”

  “I was born to entertain, sis. Can’t help it.”

  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I needed that.”

  “What, the snarky Exorcist comment? I’m serious. You kept telling me to put the toilet seat down. Scared the crap out of me. To which the toilet seat was down.”

  She laughed and pain rattled her entire body. “Stop.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  The lie was there. “I’m fine. Only hurts when I laugh.”

  Zach and Karen made their way in with her younger sister, Hannah, at their heels. There were equal parts happiness to see her awake and to find her comprehending their words and concern.

  At some point, the doctor made an appearance and asked that everyone leave. Her lack of appetite told him she still wasn’t ready to leave the observation of the ICU. She might be making sense but they wanted to keep her another night at a higher intensity of care until they saw a clear CAT scan and a return of her desire to eat.

  Karen and Meg returned to the room after the doctor left. “You don’t need to stay,” she told them.

  Meg snuggled into her chair and flipped on the TV. “I told Rick I was going to be here until he returned.”

  “And I’m Meg’s ride,” Karen offered.

  “Where is Rick?”

  Karen and Meg exchanged glances. “He and Neil are investigating the guy who did this to you.”

  No one had even mentioned the assault since she woke. It was as if an act of God had placed her in the hospital.

  “Do they have anyone yet?”

  Karen shook her head. “No. The videos didn’t show anything.”

  “Videos of what?”

  “The garage had some surveillance videos. Not a lot, but some. The man who found you didn’t see anyone running away,” Meg said.

  “They’ll find him,” Karen told her. “Gwen told me they’ve mobilized a small task force. They’ll find him.”

  She couldn’t think about any of that right now. Her body hurt too much, her head was ready to explode with every brain cell used on the man who did this to her.

  “I assume someone told my boss where I am.”

  “Are you kidding? The police have talked with just about everyone in your building who might have been there Friday night,” Meg told her.

  “No one was in the office when I left.”

  “Well, the police closed the parking lot all weekend and have questioned everyone from the security guards in the lobby to your boss.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Judy said, “but I’d imagine women are abused in a city this size every day. Why are they working so hard on this for me?”

  Karen twisted the blinds to curb the direct light of the setting sun. “There is the Neil and Rick factor.”

  “What factor is that?”

  “Marines. Those two aren’t going to rest until the man who did this is behind bars.”

  Even in pain, Judy felt her insides warm to know Rick cared enough to work hard to find the man behind her pain.

  “Then there is the Eliza factor.”

  “I hardly know Eliza.” They’d met a couple of times. Yeah, it was impressive to meet the governor and his wife. To know that Karen and Eliza were good friends was a nice perk.

  “But I do know Eliza. She and Carter take it personally when someone in their circle is hurt.”

  “I’m not in their circle.”

  Karen offered a small smile. “You are, hon. Sometimes family isn’t about the people you’re born to, but those who care enough about you to support you . . . or pull a few favors to help right a wrong for someone you know. What happened to you was beyond wrong. Getting this dirtbag off the street is a public safety concern for everyone. The fact that the governor has a direct line to you makes this a priority.”

  “Don’t question it,” Meg told her. “You just need to get better so we can both move back into Michael’s house.”

  “Wait . . . you’re not there? Where are you staying?”

  Meg bit her bottom lip. “Oh, well . . . either with Karen and Zach or at the Tarzana house. Everyone thought it was best.”

  “Why?”

  “They never found your purse. We changed the key codes and locks, but we thought it was best that no one was there alone until after this guy is caught. There are two extra rooms at the Tarzana house.”

  “Not that you need to think about that,” Karen said. “You’ll stay with us when they let you out of here.”

  “That’s crazy. The commute to work would take hours.”

  Karen and Meg just stared at her.

  “What?”

  “You’re thinking about work?”

  She wiggled up in the bed and frowned. “Well, maybe not today.”

  Karen waved her off. “No need to think about that now.”

  Meg changed the subject. Told her that Lucas and Dan stopped by the night before only to be stopped in the lobby. The media had gotten wind of the assault. Now that Mike roamed the halls of the hospital, they were camped out to gather a statement or two.

  Rick was exhausted. The sleep he managed in the past three days rivaled that of some of his missions overseas. It didn’t stop him from turning over the active investigation for a few hours to sleep in an uncomfortable chair by Judy’s bedside, a task he only relinquished to Judy’s mom for a few hours on the second night.

  Word had come via Zach that Judy was awake and making sense. Rick had seen his share of enlisted men with their bells rung to know about concussions. The swelling was minimal, so he knew it was only a matter of time for Judy to come back to them. Not that he was ever more than an hour away at any time.

  The investigation was an exercise in frustration. They had little to go on. No eyewitnesses and not one camera that captured even a shadow.

  As Rick parked in the now-familiar lot, he shoved his keys in his pocket and looked around. Even the hospital lot had cameras. It helped that there was a hefty fee for parking, which often gave the driver a false sense of security. But in the case of the hospital lot, there was actual uniformed security riding around in golf carts. Not armed security, but at least someone with a uniform and an ability to call for help.

  Rick parked on the third level, the lower two were filled with doctor parking and spaces reserved for special guests. Most of the upper levels cleared out after five. It was nearly seven and the lot was quiet. Much like when Rick roamed the lot where Judy had been attacked, he looked for the cameras and made a point of walking down the stairwell where no cameras were found. Just like that in the garage at Benson & Miller’s.

  At some point the day before, one of the investigators from the local police suggested this was a random act or even a simple purse snatching.

  Both Neil and Rick caught wind of the conversation and dismissed it. Whoever did this cased the parking lot, knew how to get in and out without detection, and targeted Judy. They roughed her up, but didn’t kill her.

  Why?

  That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question.

  Why?

  The nurse buzzed him in to the ICU, where he walked by the long bank of desks that housed the staff.

  Before walking in the room, he noticed Judy sleeping in the bed with Karen and Meg watching the TV quietly. He waved them out to talk to them without waking the patient.

  “How’s she doing?”

  “Better,” Karen offered. �
�She’s not even stuttering today.”

  “She eating yet?” he asked.

  “Not much. The doctor thinks by tomorrow her appetite should come back.”

  “Good. That’s good. I’ll be here all night. You should both go home and sleep.”

  Karen rested a hand on his arm. “You need to sleep sometime, too.”

  “I will. That chair in there folds out.”

  Meg huffed out a breath. “Hardly enough to fit me. You’re a tad bigger.”

  Rick looked down on Judy’s petite friend and winked. “I’ll be fine.”

  The girls were too tired to argue.

  He slowly moved into the room, sat beside Judy, and just stared at her. The bruising on her face was turning purple and the edges were yellow. Thankfully, the fingerprints of the man who’d held her down were no longer visible.

  There was one less IV bag hanging from her bed, but the monitor kept constant surveillance on her vital signs.

  She would heal. The body was good that way, but her head . . . that might take a little longer to feel right in the world. He knew from experience the many things that could fuck with your head and make the world an unsafe place.

  He couldn’t imagine how a woman as small and innocent as Judy was going to cope with the aftermath of the past few days.

  Rick kicked back in the reclining chair and gently placed his hand under hers. She moved on the bed but didn’t wake. There wasn’t a concern he’d be told to leave. The staff had been told from the moment Judy was admitted that if it wasn’t Rick or Judy’s family at her bedside it would be the local police. The doctors agreed a familiar face was better for the patient.

  Rick closed his eyes and willed his own personal demons away. At another time in his life, he sat beside someone he loved and held her hand.

  But that was a long time ago, and better off buried.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Leaving the ICU and the hospital should have resulted in a little less attention as everyone’s lives returned to normal. This wasn’t the case in Judy’s life. She didn’t balk at staying at Zach and Karen’s house. It made sense in light of her recovery. Her muscles had grown incredibly lax while lying in the hospital bed. It didn’t help that she’d not managed much of an exercise routine since moving to Beverly Hills. Besides, Meg spent a lot of time at the Tarzana house, which would leave Judy alone. Being alone felt a little too much like the stupid girl going into the basement on a stormy night after the power went out. She couldn’t help but wonder if walking into any parking garage wasn’t going to give her the same uncomfortable feeling.

  The fishbowl of the hospital didn’t compare to having her family hovering over her. Her father, who never took a lot of time away from his hardware store in Hilton, Utah, was going on nearly a week in California. Her mother hadn’t stopped fussing over her, making homemade soup and big roast dinners for everyone. Even Mike stuck around until Judy finally convinced Karen to call her brother’s personal assistant to push the man back to work.

  Rick always made his way to Zach’s house before she retired, but there was a place setting for him at the table tonight in case he came earlier.

  Exactly one week from the attack, during a large family meal, Judy found herself picking at the pot roast her mother had been cooking for the better part of the day. Her eyes settled on the bandage covering her right arm while the conversation around the table spoke of everything from the weather to the gossip in Hollywood and Hilton.

  He carved into me. Marked me so even after I healed I’d always remember. Why?

  She dropped the fork on her plate and picked at the bandage. Tape pulled at the hair on her arms, but she tugged on it anyway. She had avoided looking at the mess on her arm. The sutures were coming out the next day. She knew she’d no longer need the gauze to hide what the man had done to her.

  “What are you doing?” she heard someone ask. Instead of responding, she fisted the gauze and ran her thumb over the coarse bits of synthetic string that held her skin together.

  Slash marks. Spaced-out slash marks traveled down a narrow margin of her arm. She knew how close they were to arterial veins because of the trouble the doctor had in stitching her up.

  “Judy?”

  It would be easy . . . so fuckin’ easy.

  She picked at a bit of gauze stuck to a suture, grew frustrated with its desire to hold on.

  “Judy?”

  She picked harder. This should come off easy. So easy.

  “Judy!”

  “What?” she said much too loud to an entirely quiet room. Rick knelt beside her, placed a napkin over her bleeding arm.

  Everyone stared at her.

  Karen’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, Zach and her father shifted their gazes from her eyes to her arm. Her mom and Hannah let the tears flow, and Meg’s tight jaw showed nothing but anger. Even Devon and Dina were looking at her as if she’d grown horns.

  So many eyes. There was blood under the fingernails of her left hand. Her arm burned under Rick’s hand and she realized she’d done more than pick at a piece of lint.

  When she started to shake, Rick placed his arm around her and helped her to her feet. “C’mon, Utah. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

  Her head spun the moment she stood and her legs lost their ability to hold her.

  Rick swept her up and walked her out of the dining room as if he was taking the morning paper off the front step on the way to the mailbox.

  He took the stairs in silence, kicked open the door to her room, and walked straight to the adjoining bathroom. Once the water flowed to a temperature Rick approved of, he removed the napkin from her arm and placed the mess under the flow.

  “Did I do that?” A good inch of what should have been healed skin now bled, turning the water pink.

  “Yeah,” Rick told her.

  The supplies she’d been using to dress the wound sat on the end of the counter. Using one hand Rick pulled the box over, found what he wanted, and covered her skin with a tight dressing.

  “What happened?” she asked him as if he’d have the answers.

  He released a long sigh and kept wrapping her arm. “You lost it back there.”

  “I did?”

  “Yeah. It happens.” He used his teeth to remove a section of tape. Once the bandage was secure, he stood tall with her arm clasped in his firm grip. “What were you thinking about?”

  She blinked. No one else wanted to talk about what happened. They skimmed the issue, redirected the conversation, stopped talking when she walked in a room . . . not Rick.

  “Why? Why this? Why did he carve deep enough into my skin only to leave me alive?”

  Rick’s Adam’s apple bobbed before he managed an answer. “Maybe he heard something and was scared off before he could do more.”

  Judy shook her head. “No. It would be so easy. So fuckin’ easy. He could have killed me, knew he had the advantage.” She met Rick’s green eyes and knew he’d already come to the same conclusion. “You already know that.”

  “I don’t know anything, Judy.”

  She slammed her free hand against his chest, taking him by surprise. “Don’t lie to me.”

  He lifted his chin. “Fine. He could have killed you. Abused you more than he did.”

  Good, he wasn’t lying, the same deductive thought met his eyes like when they’d first met and they were trying desperately to find Becky, who’d been abducted by her abusive parents.

  “Instead he marked me. Made sure I’d always have a physical scar of his attack.”

  “Which makes it personal.”

  “I don’t know anyone that hateful.”

  “Someone at your office. Someone who might have known about the project you were working on?”

  Judy squeezed her eyes shut. “Ms. Miller spoke to me only minutes before the attack. No one knew about it.”

  Rick brought her bandaged arm to her lap and gently held on to her while they spoke. “Hustle any pool since you’ve been in town?” />
  “That’s absurd. I don’t hustle. I play and Meg is always right there to tell anyone that I’m good. Other than you, I’ve only ever played for twenty bucks at a time.”

  “Someone from Seattle?”

  “I’ve thought about that. I know it sounds lily-white but I don’t make enemies. I didn’t steal anyone’s boyfriend or rat on anyone for cheating. Meg and I were loners most of our senior year. We’d go out, play pool, do a little partying, but there weren’t any casualties along the way.”

  “You think this was random?”

  She shook her head before she uttered any words.

  “Me either.”

  Her head hurt. Judy hated how much her head hurt the past week. “I should eat something.” Her entire dinner was sitting on a plate surrounded by her family.

  “Do you want to go back downstairs?”

  “No. Please, I can’t take one more sympathetic look, one more tear.”

  Rick lifted one side of his lips in a half smile. “I’ll go get us both something to eat. So long as it’s OK that I’m exempt from the masses.”

  She was much steadier on her feet when he led her into her room and tucked a few pillows behind her on the bed.

  Rick returned less than ten minutes later with a tray filled with food for the both of them. He didn’t let anyone else in the room even though he struggled with the laden tray, nearly spilling it on the floor more than once.

  “This smells amazing.”

  “My mom’s a good cook. Lots of practice when the town you live in doesn’t have that many restaurants.”

  Rick placed the food in the center of the bed, lay at the foot, and kicked off his shoes.

  Judy tucked her feet under her, sat Indian style, and picked up a fork. Her stomach growled with happiness with the first bite. “I’ve missed this.”

  He hummed around his food with appreciation.

 

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