The Devil She Knew
Page 24
“Do you want to press charges, ma’am?”
“No,” she said too loudly, looking at him for the first time. Her eyes looked wild. “No, please. No police.”
“I’m sort of the police, ma’am. I could be your witness.”
• • •
Valerie shook her head emphatically. Oh God. There couldn’t be an official report. The competing radio stations would have a field day if they knew she had dinner with a county consultant and it had gone bad. This was just a business meeting, but what if Richard twisted the evening into a date that she’d proposed? It was unethical to date someone you worked with, whether at the station or in the regular course of business. She’d be fired, her dreams of becoming a successful newswoman dashed.
Her stomach turned as she looked toward Richard. “I don’t want to report this to the police. He won’t come near me again. If, if he does, I won’t hesitate to call the police.
“Please,” she repeated, looking up at Adam. “I don’t want anyone to know this happened.”
On the ground, Richard’s coat buttons scraped the pavement when he moved. She gasped but Adam stepped in front of her again, his fists clenched.
Richard held out his hands and mumbled “no more.” He pushed up on one knee and used the car to rise to his feet.
“This was a mistake, Valerie,” he said, wiping blood from his mouth and nose. “A big mistake.” He stumbled away swearing at a foursome in the parking lot who walked into his path.
Adam looked at Valerie. “Do you want me to take you to the hospital?”
He towered over her by more than a foot. But his height didn’t pose the threat that Richard’s had. She relaxed against the car. “No. I just want to go home.”
“You really should report this.”
Her teeth clenched. She was trying desperately to hold it together, and he wasn’t helping. Tears threatened to spill and that would be her undoing. She took a deep breath.
“No, please.” Had he heard her? It was barely a whisper. “No police.”
He stared at her as if debating whether to argue the point. Then his shoulders relaxed. “Where are your keys?”
“I, I don’t know. I must have dropped them.”
Adam knelt on the ground, running his hands over pebbles and dirt. In the dark, he couldn’t find them.
“I have a flashlight in my car. Wait here, I’ll get it.”
She nodded, refusing to look at him, and he ran to his car. She saw him running back when she drove out of the parking lot, her knuckles white as she clutched the steering wheel and sped home. She willed her eyes not to water until she’d driven into her garage and turned off the engine. Then she dropped her head to the steering wheel and cried.
Jesus! She was almost raped!
She eased out of the car on shaky legs and walked through the garage door into the kitchen. Tossing her purse on the counter, she kicked off her heels and went into the adjacent half-bath. A blotch of crusted blood and the start of purple discoloring marked the spot where he’d bitten her. It throbbed in time with the pounding in her head.
Trembling, she fingered her broken bra strap and assessed the ripped sleeve of her blouse. It was ruined. She leaned against the sink, taking deep breaths, counting out loud. She’d read once that was a way to force your body out of a trauma.
“One.”
“Two.” Don’t pass out.
“Three. Four.” She dropped her head back and winced as the broken skin tightened.
“Five. Six.”
She forced her trembling legs to move and carefully walked to the freezer, using the wall, the chair back and the counter for support. She reached for the bottle of vodka, popped the stopper and filled a shot glass with the thick, chilled liquid. She threw it back in a single swallow. The heat of the alcohol sliding down her throat steadied her nerves.
Closing her eyes immediately brought the feel of Richard’s hands and mouth on her, and she shuddered. She ran to the master bathroom and took a long, hot shower, letting the beating water work the tension from her muscles. Gingerly, she stepped from the shower on legs that still quivered.
Despite the alcohol and the soothing hot water, her hand shook as she smeared antiseptic ointment on her neck. The healing salve pinched and burned.
She wrapped herself in the fat folds of her oversized cotton bathrobe and padded barefoot to the kitchen for one more jigger of vodka. Without it, she wouldn’t be able to sleep.
After crawling into bed, she propped the pillows against the headboard and leaned back, staring at the opposite wall. The whole evening was like a bad dream. She started to tremble just reliving the events in her mind. If only she could tell someone who would help her sort everything out. But it was better if no one knew.
She didn’t dare even tell her brother. Like most twins, they shared a bond closer than the average brother and sister. Vince was nine minutes older and her protector from her first memories. He would surely go after Richard if he found out what happened. His temper rivaled hers.
She swallowed the second vodka and placed the empty glass on the nightstand. Pulling the bed sheet and blanket up to her neck, she sank deeper into the pillows and closed her eyes. She wanted to forget tonight had ever happened.
She had a moment’s pang over the man who helped her. She hadn’t even thanked him. But when she’d moved her foot and heard her keys scrape the cement, her only thought was to get the hell out of there. It was lucky he didn’t recognize her. Thank goodness she would never see him again.