“Thank you,” I replied softly.
“Note that I said can, and not will,” he said. “It’s very late, almost 2:00 a.m., so we’ll keep you here overnight for observation and will release you in the morning. Now, are you okay to speak for a few minutes after the investigator has collected what she needs?” he asked.
“I, I think so,” I answered.
“Good,” he said. “There are three officers waiting to interview you, if you’re up for it.”
“Okay,” I answered, hoarsely. It was hard to speak so I continued to say as few words as possible.
“Lieutenant Lewis is also waiting outside,” he added.
I nodded.
“I’ll let them in soon,” he remarked. “Take better care of yourself okay Miss Samuel? And be sure to stay out of trouble, young lady.”
As he opened the door to leave, I could see Matt speaking to the plain clothes officer who was at the hotel. They had been waiting outside, and both acknowledged the doctor as he exited. Matt’s eyes and mine connected, and for a brief moment, we were locked in a stare before the door closed completely. A lot was exchanged in that unspoken dialogue. I could see he cared, and I’m certain I couldn’t hide that I did too.
I closed my eyes while the woman finished her swabbing on my neck, my forearms and under my fingernails. She also took samples from the clothes I had on, which were on the chair in the corner after they made me change into the hospital robes.
I couldn’t help but think about how I had found him arguing with Joy, and that I hadn’t given him a second to give his version of what happened. There was no point at which he had offered what may or may not have been his relationship status before we met. To be fair, though, I had never asked him if he was single either. That didn’t stop me from asking him to stay with me when I had nightmares. I didn’t say, ‘Hey Matt, before you ravish my body, go down on me and make me come, are you single?’ I was just as accountable, and it had not mattered if he did or didn’t belong to someone else at that point. It didn’t stop me from being in the moment with him, after he surprised me with my nana’s necklace.
What right did I have to expect him to be single? Was I asking too much of him? The magnetic attraction I had to him was not something I could resist, so maybe that was what he had felt too. And what would bring me to take one sentence that Joy had said, that he was her boyfriend, and have it dictate how I was to treat this magnificent man, who had only been kind and generous to me? She could have been lashing out at me. After all, people say a lot of things they don’t mean when they’re upset. And there I was, showing up in the midst of their argument, barely dressed. That must have been hard for her to take.
I threw down the wall of my defenses, let go of my fear and doubt, and in that moment, decided that no matter how painful his circumstances may have turned out to be, he deserved a chance to have his say. And I needed to allow myself to hear the truth.
Chapter 4
The forensic investigator left once she had finished her examination on me. Shortly afterward, Matt and the plain clothes policeman walked in together. The two uniformed officers stayed outside. Their stance led me to believe they were on guard duty.
“Kate, how are you feeling?” Matt asked as he walked in. I nodded and he continued. “This is Detective Robert Bateman, from the NYPD.”
“A pleasure, Ma’am,” Detective Bateman said.
“Detective Bateman is heading up the investigation into tonight’s attack on you. He understands you’ve been through a lot and probably can’t speak much, so he won’t be long,” Matt continued.
“Ma’am,” the Detective started, “I can get a formal statement from you later. I would just like to get any information you may have about the person who attacked you. Do you remember anything?”
I thought back to the attack before answering. I hadn’t seen his face, but there were bits of my memory of the man, coming back to me in split second frames. I shifted in the bed as the memory of him made me uncomfortable. It was my mind playing tricks on me. I was still feeling there was danger lurking nearby. I knew from a logical standpoint that it was my mind’s recollection of the event that brought on those feelings of fear and nervousness.
I think Matt sensed how I felt. He walked around to the other side of the bed and gently placed one hand on my right shoulder, in support. I looked up at him and he smiled softly. Instinctively, I leaned my head over to feel the warmth of his hand. I don’t know how or why, but I felt safer with Matt touching me. Some of the fear dispersed and I was able to answer.
“He was a short and stout man,” I said softly.
“Was he taller than you?” The detective asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Probably just a couple of inches taller. He had dark, shoulder-length hair, balding a little. I think he was middle aged. Probably was in his mid-forties, as his voice seemed older.”
“Was there anything you remembered about his clothes?” he asked.
“He wore all dark clothes,” I answered. “And he was in dress shoes, because the heels made a sound as he walked in.”
“What about his voice?” he probed.
“The man spoke in an Eastern European accent. Maybe it was Russian, or Ukrainian. I know his accent because one of the maids I had when I was growing up was Russian-speaking from Ukraine, and the man spoke exactly like her. The only difference was he had a deeper tone. ”
“This is very helpful information, Ma’am,” the detective replied. “Did he say anything to you?”
“He said something about unit 16, wanting to be sure I didn’t see anything in unit 16,” I answered.
“Are you sure that’s what he said?” he asked.
“Positive,” I stated. “He said it twice. And actually, the way he said 16 was unusual. I think he had a lisp. He pronounced it the ‘s’ in sixteen with a ‘th’.”
“Very good details, Miss Samuel. Does unit 16 have any significance to you?” he continued.
“Well I can only guess it’s about the fire at my building,” I said, and looked over to Matt. “The couple who died in the fire, the Holsteins, they lived in unit 16.”
My anxiety was building already, and I started to feel out of sorts when I thought about them. Images of the boy screaming from the window began to surface again. I reached up and squeezed Matt’s hand on my shoulder. He looked down with the most humane look in his eyes. He must have known how difficult the questioning, and my recall of the events, were becoming for me.
“Are you sure that’s what the man was talking about?” the detective questioned.
“I don’t really know. That’s the only unit 16 I can think of, sir,” I answered, as he continued jotting down my responses in his little notebook. For a moment, the notebook offered a distraction. It was a traditional policeman's flipover notepad. It was black, with green-lined cream paper, just like in so many suspense or crime thriller movies I had seen with my dad when I was younger. Watching crime thrillers was the only use my dad had for televisions. And it was the only quality time I remember spending with him. He was always so busy being a master of the universe.
I looked at the notepad again, attempting to shift my thoughts away from my dad. The notepad really did live up to the stereotype. It even had an elastic closure loop. I imagined the detective must have found it convenient, as it could easily fit into his pocket, and was ideal for jotting down his notes. I wondered why the police force hadn’t moved to tablets yet. It would be such a time saver.
“Was there anything else?” he continued, pulling me back from my straying thoughts. “Any tattoos, scars, or distinct facial or physical features?”
“I don’t remember, sir,” I answered. “I never got a good look at his face.”
“I know this has to be uncomfortable for you,” the detective remarked. “And asking you to relive the trauma is sometimes just as difficult for us as it is for victims. Many of us choose law enforcement as a career, because of what we went through ourselves. But ma�
�am, this is the only way for us to do our part and work to get that man off the streets. The priority is to get him before he tries this with you or anyone again. Try to think back to when he was choking you. Was there anything distinguishing on his forearms or hands? Like tattoos, rings, or scars?”
I paused and closed my eyes. Everything had happened so quickly, I hadn’t stopped to think about details. It was also late and I was sleepy. I felt the natural exhaustion coming on, as well as the decompression one feels after an adrenaline-filled experience. As I exhaled with my eyes closed, I was able to think back. I had a brief flashback to the shock and horror I felt at the point where I was losing consciousness. I remembered his chokehold grip tightening on my neck. He had reeked of alcohol and cheap cologne.
My mind raced forward to the point before I was able to pull free. His left hand had been around my neck, and he had used his right hand to tighten his grip by pushing my right shoulder forward from behind. When I had broken the vase, I shoved the broken chard up and backward, into the left side of his head. He had instinctively released his grip around my neck to reach his wound. That’s when I remembered the tattoos.
“The fingers on his left hand,” I said to them. ‘There were small tattoos on each finger. One was a horseshoe, and I think one was a star. I don’t remember the rest of them, though. It all happened so fast.”
“That’s very helpful, Miss Samuel,” the Detective replied, writing feverishly into his notes. “Is there anything else you remember?”
Matt stepped in at that point. “I think Miss Samuel needs some rest from this ordeal, Detective. She’s been through a lot.”
“Okay Matt, um, Lieutenant,” the Detective answered, remembering the formality they were probably expected to have when members of the public were around. “Ma’am, I’ll end it here, but it would help our investigation if you’d come down to the station as soon as you feel better. We’ll need an official statement, and we’d like you to go over some suspect photos while you’re there.”
“No problem, Detective,” I replied.
“And if you remember anything at all,” he continued, “try to write it down when it comes to mind. Victims and witnesses tend to recall bits and pieces after this type of traumatic event. They’re all pieces of a puzzle that can help us locate your attacker.”
“Okay, I will try, sir,” I responded.
“My crime scene investigators are at the hotel,” he stated. “They will also check for any evidence the man may have left there.”
“And I’ll make sure my security staff watch over your belongings in the room,” Matt jumped in.
“Ma’am,” the detective continued, “I want you to know you’ll be safe tonight,” he said. “We’ve stationed two uniformed officers at your door, and they’ll be there until you’re released.”
“Thank you, Detective,” I answered.
“We’ll have them relieved by another two officers tomorrow, and they’ll escort you home,” he continued. “What’s the address they can take you to tomorrow?”
I hesitated. I hadn’t thought about it. It was not like I had that many options anymore. I still hadn’t even begun to start looking for a place to live.
“She’s going to stay with me,” Matt chimed in. “You can send your men to my apartment to keep watch from tomorrow.”
“No,” I blurted out, without thinking. I didn’t want Matt to feel he needed to put me up. I was also peeved he would presume that I’d return there. As vulnerable as I was feeling, I was not going to be wrapped up in whatever there was between him and Joy. I was not going to be a third wheel, or involved in another love triangle. There was also no way I could be near him and not have something happen. He was hard to resist, and I knew that was my own attraction to him, and not his temptation or behavior. It was simpler to just be somewhere else.
“You’re staying with me and there’s nothing to discuss, Kate,” he countered, with his commanding and authoritative stance. It was equally annoying and endearing to me. “I feel bad enough that this guy got to you in my hotel. I mean, I could have passed him in the hallway or the lobby when I left your room.”
Matt looked away, and ran a frustrated hand through his short blond hair. He had a tender vulnerability about him as he continued to speak, and his eyes revealed a softness in them, like he was genuinely fearful for me. I just wasn’t ready to give in so easily. I knew that staying with Matt would probably be safer, but I felt torn. I didn’t want to be there just for the sake of safety. I also didn’t want to need him that way, especially with Joy in the picture.
“I understand why you feel it’s safer, Matt,” I replied firmly. “I just need to be in my own place, okay?” The strength in my tone sent me into a coughing fit. It hurt a lot to speak, and coughing was even more painful.
“That cough doesn’t sound good at all,” Matt said. He pressed the nurse’s call button at the side of my bed. “Maybe they can give you something for the pain.”
He took the water on the table beside my bed and slowly tilted it to my mouth to make me drink. “Detective Bateman, do you mind excusing us?”
“Certainly,” he said. “Miss Samuel, I hope you feel better soon. Have a good night and we’ll be in touch.”
Matt waited for him to leave the room before he started again. “Look, it’s not just your independence to worry about now, Kate. You may still be in danger. I won’t let that scumbag or anyone else get another chance to hurt you.”
A male nurse entered and Matt explained about my raspy, painful coughing. He read my chart, took my vitals, and did a brief examination before leaving the room to get me some medication.
“Look, Kate,” he persisted. “I’m not taking no for an answer this time. You’re in no shape to go looking for a new place. And wherever you go won’t be as safe as my place. Just let me take care of you ok? I owe you that much for letting this happen to you at my hotel, and practically under my nose. I feel bad enough, I…”
He paused when the male nurse re-entered the room. He was here to administer the pain medication. As soon as the nurse left, Matt turned back to me. I could see a fierce, obstinate look in his eyes. He leaned down to my ear and whispered to me, “Please don’t let me beg, Kate.”
I was ready to object, but I didn’t have the energy. It seemed futile to suggest I could magically find somewhere else to stay when I wasn’t even sure whether I could be alone by myself in another hotel, let alone be safe. And the last thing I wanted to do was expose George and Richard to any danger after what happened.
I shrugged, let the pain meds kick in and remained silent.
Chapter 5
The detective knocked twice on the door. Matt excused himself and went out to see what he wanted. They spoke for a few minutes outside my room door, and afterward, Matt came back to me. He smiled softly and sat in the chair beside my bed. He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked down at me with kind eyes, then took my hand and wrapped his around it protectively. As tired as I was, I felt the electricity of his touch like all the times before. Every part of me longed for him.
“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Kate,” he started. “I feel like it’s my fault.”
“It’s not your fault, Matt,” I answered. “Why would you say that?”
“If only I had stuck around when I dropped by before,” he continued, “he may not have tried what he did. I should have insisted. I should have convinced you.”
“His timing was just a coincidence,” I countered. “In fact you probably saved me. Who knows if that man would have kept coming after me if you hadn’t come back.”
“It’s my hotel, Kate,” he persisted. “I’m responsible for everything that happens to everyone in it. I’m, well, I feel responsible for you. And if Joy hadn’t come by, you wouldn’t have been in the hotel to begin with.”
I sensed he wouldn’t back down, so I let it be. As he mentioned Joy, I thought I needed to get that out of the way as well. There’s nothing like facing things hea
d on, so I asked, “Is Joy your girlfriend, Matt?”
“Not anymore, no,” he answered. “It’s a long story, and you really should rest.”
“You know, you came by the hotel to try and explain,” I reminded him. “And I’m letting you do that now, Matt. Just tell me.”
He hesitated, then let out a long breath and leaned back in the chair. “Alright. Joy and I were supposed to be together. By together I mean married, as far as our parents were concerned. Our families had known each other for years, and were very close. They had been involved in many businesses together, and all our holdings were co-owned, jointly held, or were inter-connected in some way. Joy’s parents are also wealthy and very powerful. They must have had some type of agreement, that our families would be better off if Joy and I were an item.
“Even while I was a teenager, our moms would devise events and occasions for me and Joy to interact. They even vacationed every summer at the same resort in Lake Tahoe, so there was no escaping her. And when I was 19, my father admitted that in no uncertain terms, we were to be married to keep the family assets together. He said there was no other way. I couldn’t believe it. Whoever would believe in an arranged marriage in the western world? I didn’t understand, but as they continued to insist, for a short while, I accepted it as my family responsibility.
“Joy and I eventually dated when I was 22. It was that last year before my father passed away. There was no chemistry. I had never been attracted to her, and she had no interest in me either, except she had fully accepted the arrangement our parents had made. To her, there was no other option. We also had nothing in common. Nothing, except shared assets and our parents’ shared plan to marry us off. It was comical, in a way. I had struggled so much with the decision to begin seeing her to appease my parents. And finally, when we got together, she admitted she didn’t want me either.
“All she wanted was to keep up appearances so she could have access to her parents’ money and power. They did a real number on Joy. Joy was, and still is, only about having that life. The things. The trips. The power. And being in the billionaires’ club. She would have only been too happy to stay miserable her entire life by marrying me, just to have that life. But I couldn’t. So the instant I decided to end it, everything changed.
HERO (The Complete Series) Page 10