Ryder had seen this before, a rich and powerful guy, taking what he wanted, browbeating a woman into silence with his money and position. “That doesn’t mean he gets to—take advantage of you.”
“What’s this test all about?”
“It’s perfectly safe, a special nurse at the hospital will check you for—evidence of an assault.” Ryder had worked only a few sexual assault cases, he didn’t have enough experience to know how the victims reacted. He’d heard that it could range from anger to shock to repressed disbelief or even denial.
Upton sighed. “If you think it’s best, Detective—,” she glanced at Ryder’s card on the coffee table. “Ryder.”
“I do. And the man’s name?” Ryder’s pen was poised.
“I still think nothing happened. Probably. So why don’t we hold off on that?” said Upton. “Like I said, I don’t want to get him in trouble.”
“We’ll need to go to your apartment to make the burglary report,” said Burkett.
“If you say so, I guess. Now?”
“After you go to the hospital,” said Ryder.
“Okay, okay, if you insist,” said Upton. “I’m still not sure anything happened.” She wrapped her arms around her chest.
Ryder picked up the defensiveness in her posture and her voice. He had no doubt she was protecting someone.
“We’ll take you to the hospital,” he said. “Officer Burkett and I will then go to your apartment, with your consent, and do a search.”
“Is that necessary? I told you nothing was taken.”
“It’s just a precaution,” said Ryder. “Do we have your permission?” He really didn’t need her permission if a crime had occurred, but given the vagueness of Upton’s statements, it was better to be safe than sorry.
Upton hesitated. “I guess so.”
“Does anyone else have access to your apartment now? Someone who might have gone there since you left?”
“No, not unless they broke in again.”
“Okay, please get whatever you need.”
“I have my own car.”
“It’s better if we drive you.” Ryder wanted an opportunity to talk to her away from Burkett, maybe get her comfortable enough to tell him about the mystery man. “We’ll have an officer drive you back here.”
“How long will it take? I have to go to work later this afternoon.”
“Not long, an hour or two.” Sexual assaults were pretty rare in Marburg, Ryder was sure he could get the SAFE test and examination done quickly.
“Can we stop for some cigarettes?” asked Upton.
“You won’t be able to smoke in the car or the hospital,” said Ryder. “Besides, we need to—preserve any evidence.”
Upton got up. “Let’s get this over with.”
Melanie had never been in a police cruiser before. She was hoping that’s how they’d get to the hospital, even if it meant riding with the fat cop. But the good looking detective guided her toward a brown sedan. She thought maybe she’d have to ride in the back, but he opened the front door for her.
On the drive to the hospital the detective tried to pry more information out of her, but Melanie had played her hand as planned, deftly, she thought, letting the cop suspect that something had happened, without her really saying any such thing. She needed to keep him on the fence, just in case Jason wouldn’t listen to reason.
She wasn’t especially worried about Detective Ryder; she’d caught him looking at her legs, her body, certain he bought the story of some mystery suitor not being able to control himself, maybe stepping over the line. Melanie had also played the helpless confused ditz, a character the cops had likely seen in similar cases. All in all, it was a pretty good performance, if she did say so herself.
She glanced over at Ryder, who was trying to drive and look at her at the same time. He was cute, probably early forties, in good shape. Melanie didn’t have the thing for cops that some women did, drawn to their confidence. This one, he was different, no swagger, overly polite, bordering on nerdy. She’d had to keep from laughing as he had struggled to write notes, purposely jumping topics to keep him off balance.
The other one she’d mostly ignored. She met a lot of cops like him, trying to impress her with their uniforms, their guns. She’d been stopped a few times for speeding, a couple of possible DUI’s, all of which she talked herself out of, the cops letting her off with a warning, but usually giving her their number as well, everyone playing the game.
No, neither cop would be a problem.
The hospital test could be, she should have showered, like she’d made Gigi. Would some of Taz’s DNA be on her? Could they match it to anything? She doubted Taz had been arrested, but who knew, she wasn’t sure what kinds of arrests led to DNA collection. And anyway, so what if they did? She could always claim she’d been with him earlier in the evening, it was true anyway.
She settled back, crossed her legs as elegantly as possible in the car, and smiled as she caught Ryder turning his head to watch.
“Damn, anything could have happened here.” Officer Burkett, hands on his wide hips, stood in the doorway of Melanie Upton’s apartment.
“Have some respect, she could be a victim,” said Ryder, although he had to agree. The apartment was a disaster zone, clothes, magazines, shoes everywhere, the place looked like the after affects of a college party.
“Victim? Is that what you were thinking when you were checking her out?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean,” said Burkett. “She’s some piece of ass.”
“Watch your mouth,” said Ryder, feeling his cheeks flush, turning away. “Andie will be here in a minute, don’t let me hear you talk like that in front of her. Or anyone.”
“Aye-aye, captain.”
Ryder didn’t think Burkett meant it for a minute, but he let it go for now, hearing Andie coming up the steps.
Andie, the crime tech, or as close as Marburg had to one, still in training, taking certification courses in Boston. Ryder had worked with her before, she was young but good, methodical, like he was. Today, as usual, she wore khaki pants and a blue denim shirt with Marburg PD embroidered on the chest, her blond hair in a short pony tail, a camera slung over her shoulder, her identification clipped to her belt.
“Detective Ryder,” she said. “What do we have?”
Ryder told her what they knew, a little embarrassed at how few specifics he had. Andie didn’t seem to notice, she was already looking into the room, peering past Burkett. “We were waiting for you before going in. The possible victim gave us permission to enter and the key.”
“Okay,” said Andie. “Please wait here while I secure a path for you, unless you feel the need to check the other rooms.”
Ryder had already thought of that, the bath door partially closed, the bedroom out of sight. The entrance door lock was flimsy but didn’t appear to have been forced. They hadn’t heard a sound, and Upton had said the place was empty. Still, one couldn’t be too careful. “I’d like to go in far enough to see into the bedroom, and push the bathroom door all the way open. You good with that?”
“Sure, let me just get a few shots from here. Officer Burkett, would you mind?”
“Sure honey, go ahead.”
Ryder was about to jump on Burkett’s condescending comment, stopped, wondering what was worse: letting a man get away with that, or stepping in, implying the woman couldn’t take care of herself.
Andie saved him. “I put honey in my tea, officer. You look like an herbal tea drinker, you need some honey, is that what you mean?”
“I don’t drink herbal tea,” said Burkett, but he moved aside.
“Pity,” said Andie, already snapping photos. “You should try some chamomile, calm you down.” She moved aside. “Don’t touch anything.”
Ryder stepped forward, but Burkett was ahead of him, his gun out. “I got this, Detective,” said Burkett, a little bluster in his voice.
Not to be outdone,
Ryder said, “You clear the bedroom, I’ll take the bathroom.” He drew his gun, took three steps into the apartment, then waited for Burkett to get ready by the other doorway. “Go.”
Ryder pushed the bath door open and stepped back, hoping Burkett still remembered enough police tactics to clear a room. The small bathroom was empty, the shower curtain wide open, not enough space for anyone to hide.
“Clear,” said Burkett. “Of people, anyway. There’s more shit in here than in the living room.”
Which was also true of what Ryder could see of the bathroom. Burkett had been right. Anything could have happened here.
CHAPTER 13
Lenny walked by the entrance to the restaurant for the third time. He knew Melanie was inside, he’d been sitting in his car down the street for hours, and watched her go in. Now all he had to do was pull the trigger.
He’d forced himself to wait a week since he had been at Melanie’s apartment. The first few days he’d hardly slept, in disbelief for not being able to finish what he had started, his manhood failing him when he most needed it. Frustration turned to anger, Melanie not responding the way he wanted, not helping, not accepting him. Then fear, the cops would show up, Melanie claiming he’d raped her. He took to hiding in the attic apartment; suffering the relentless questioning of his mother was better than being on the street. He went three days without a shower because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear the police pounding at the door over the running water.
When the cops didn’t show up he concluded there were only two possibilities. Either Melanie hadn’t recognized him, or she had and not only wasn’t upset, but was pleasantly surprised. Her knowing it was him was by far the preferable of the two, so he simply stopped thinking of it as a break-in. If Melanie had known him better, she would have invited him in for sure.
Since that change in his frame of mind, Lenny relived that visit every night, during the day even, the smell of Melanie’s hair, the feeling of her body. He’d rerun the movie in his head, different outcomes, getting it just right. The kiss, his hands on her, Melanie moaning . . . all of them ending the same way, Lenny the stallion, Melanie succumbing to his power, accepting him.
Now that he’d had a taste of what was in store he couldn’t hold back much longer. Not only being with Melanie, but becoming partners too. They’d be a perfect fit. He’d manage her career during the day, and they’d have their nights together. Lenny would help her get some good roles, they could move to LA. Lenny could impress Melanie with his local knowledge, where to hang out, where to eat. They’d get an apartment, no, a house, up in the Hollywood Hills or even Calabasas. Malibu was so last decade.
After waiting all week he worried that he was too late, Melanie might have already parlayed the photo from the press conference into a role. She needed to believe her opportunity came from the idea Lenny had given to her. Okay, she’d stolen it, but the result was the same.
And then there was the visit to her bedroom.
On the off chance Melanie really hadn’t recognized him, Lenny needed to get her to connect him with that night, even more than connecting him with the photo idea. He just couldn’t figure out the best way. Coming right out and saying it wouldn’t be good, he’d have to play it cool, let Melanie draw the conclusion. Where to approach her? Getting her alone would be hard. His last attempts in public hadn’t worked so well, her having to put on airs in front of everyone. He was convinced now that’s all it was, seeing how passive she’d been when he got her alone in the bedroom. She was just an insecure little girl, all bluster, needing a man like him to help her bloom.
The restaurant seemed the safest bet, she couldn’t very well brush off a customer.
Melanie dumped the tub of dirty dishes in the kitchen, not caring whether anything broke. This was going to be her last day working in this shithole. She’d only come to the restaurant today to pick up her paycheck, but her asshole boss Lyn told her that she hadn’t given notice, and if Melanie didn’t work another week the restaurant didn’t have to pay her anything, it was in the employment papers she’d signed. Like she’d read them.
She’d be out of this shitty job, out of Marburg, any day now. The calls had already started to come in, the press asking about Shock and Awe, a few casting call invites. It was happening.
All Melanie needed to do now was play it cool, pick and choose. And get a handle on Jason, just in case. She now had a knife she could hold against Jason’s throat if he tried to mess with her. She hadn’t seen him at the club or the hotel, even though he still had a room. Probably hanging in Boston, avoiding her. If she didn’t see him tonight she’d call him.
She’d also been thinking about how interested the police had been about who might have attacked her. That could be a goldmine. Not for the police, but for her. What if the gossip rags got wind of a hot actor like Jason being so infatuated with her he couldn’t control himself? Another card to play.
The possibilities were endless.
Feeling better now, good thoughts to get her through her shift.
Tiffany, the hostess, stuck her head through the swinging door. “Mel, customer. Says he’s a friend. I put him in your section even though you’re not up.”
Melanie, still focused on what calls she was going to take, said, “Who is it?”
“I don’t know. Remember I’m doing you a favor, Julie will be all over my ass for skipping her.”
Tiffany waited a beat before disappearing back into the dining area, making it clear that she expected Melanie to kick back some of the tip to her, even though it was Julie who was getting stiffed. “Screw you, bitch,” said Melanie.
Melanie was about to follow Tiffany when she realized that the customer might be a reporter who had tracked her down, or even a local agent. She took a minute to check out her hair in the safety mirror on the wall, useless, the mirror curved and scratched. Not that it mattered, she looked like shit, who could look good bussing tables?
She swung through the doors, trying not to appear eager, already thinking up a story about how she’d explain why she was still at work instead of getting ready for a show. But instead of someone important, the only new customer in her section was that loser Lenny. He was staring at her like a deer in headlights, his leg twitching as if he was going to bolt.
Melanie caught Tiffany smiling, a big joke. ‘You’ll get yours,’ Melanie mouthed.
Tiffany hid her hand behind the hostess station and gave Melanie the finger.
Melanie ignored Lenny. Just because Tiffany sat him in her section didn’t mean she had to serve him. She stopped at her other occupied table, chatting it up, looking out for Julie, she could dump Lenny on her. Julie was nowhere to be seen, but the owner, Jake, was having a drink at the bar, watching her.
When Melanie put in a drink order, Jake, an ex mall cop who liked to push his weight around, jerked his head at Lenny. “Mel, don’t leave that customer waiting too long.”
“Julie is up.”
“He’s in your section.”
“Tiffany fucked up again.”
“Watch the language around the customers.”
“What customers? I just see you drinking away the profits.”
Jake scoffed. “I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to get me to fire you so you won’t have to work your shifts to get your check. I’ve been onto you since the start.”
“In your dreams. Just because Lyn’s letting you have some doesn’t mean you know me.”
Jake swallowed his drink. “Just handle the customer, okay?”
Melanie was too tired to bother with him. She’d get Lenny to leave on his own.
“And Mel? If Julie really was up, make sure you kick back something to her on the tip. You can’t just go around taking advantage of people.”
Melanie gave him the finger behind her back as she crossed over to Lenny. Today he was wearing a black fake silk shirt, three buttons open, bling on a chain, looking like a cast off from Miami Vice. He was still bouncing in his chai
r, watching her every move, yet cringing as she got closer, like he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. She greeted him with, “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Lenny bit his lip like a five year old who was trying not to blurt out that he had just raided the cookie jar. Melanie turned away, she didn’t need this.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to talk to you.”
Lenny looked his usual jerk self but his voice was different, not quite matching his demeanor, a little cocky, and more subdued than when he had accosted her at the hotel bar. “I’m working,” she said.
“We could do this somewhere more private. Your place?”
“This is as close as you’ll ever get to my place.”
Lenny smiled. “I’ll never tell.”
“Bullshit. You ever get near a woman’s place you’d be bragging about it to all your friends. That is, if you had any.”
Lenny picked up a menu. “Then I’ll eat. You gotta talk to your customers.”
“You going to make another crybaby scene? Maybe I should clear anything breakable off the table?”
“You can’t rattle me anymore, Mel. I know you now.”
First Jake and now Lenny. “You don’t know shit about me. Just give me your order, eat, and get the fuck out.”
Lenny’s eyes twitched. “Not a very nice way to treat a man who you’ve—you know.”
“You don’t need me to have a conversation with yourself. Are you going to order or not?” Lenny frowned, Melanie thinking something about him was off, even more than the other times she had seen him. Not that she cared.
“You owe me big time,” said Lenny. “You know, the idea about the photo.”
“Not that again. Get over it.”
Lenny grinned, Melanie wondering what was up. This wasn’t the same guy who’d run crying out of the hotel bar.
“Maybe I already am, Mel. After what we’ve shared.”
Melanie calculated her ability to get her remaining pay if she slapped Lenny silly right then. She’d feel better for a few minutes, and even that might have been enough if she’d been owed only for a few days. But two weeks pay, she needed the cash. She leaned over Lenny, sticking her chest practically in his face, waiting for him to look down, and sure enough, he did, his face flushing.
Random Revenge (Detective Robert Winter Book 1) Page 15