Four

by Jane Blythe

  10:43 A.M.

  “Jack?”

  Laura couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d opened her front door to see a whale.

  All morning, she had been trying to prepare herself for the inevitable visit from the police. Connor had called to tell her that they were going to be interviewing everyone in the apartment building in their quest to find who had been attacking the residents.

  For obvious reasons, having people here in her apartment was not easy for her. More like a nightmare. But she knew it was unavoidable. If for nothing else than she wanted this man who had shattered her sense of calm to be caught. Even if she had tried to avoid talking with the cops, it wouldn’t have worked. They would simply have kept coming back until she spoke to them.

  So, all morning she had been readying herself for their impending visit. Doing the calming techniques a therapist had taught her many years ago, she tried to imagine what they’d ask her and how she’d answer. But no amount of preparation could have prepared her for this.

  It was him, though. He was still tall and muscled. He had the same dimples and sparkling blue eyes that had first attracted her to him. The only difference from the last time she’d seen him was that his blond hair was shaved short.

  Her shock melted into anger. “Get out,” she screamed at Jack Xander.

  Jack just continued to stand there staring at her. The tall, pretty redhead at his side was looking from Jack to her and back again.

  Laura was attempting to close her door again when Jack suddenly bounced back to life. “Laura, wait, we have to talk to you.” He put his hands on the door to prevent her from closing it.

  “If you think I'm going to talk to you, then you are crazy,” she shot back.

  “Laura,” Jack began in the same pleading tone she’d heard him use a million times before.

  “No,” she cut him off before he had a chance to speak. “I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.”

  “Laura, please,” he tried again.

  “How are you not getting this, Jack? Get away from me.” If he wasn't going, then she was, she turned and was going to go and lock herself in her bedroom, but he grabbed her wrist. That was a bad move. She didn’t like people touching her. And she certainly didn’t want this man touching her. Add to that the fact that she was terribly on edge and hadn’t slept properly in days and she totally flipped. “Don’t touch me.”

  Jack must have read the panic in her face because he instantly dropped her arm, his brows knitting together in concern. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll be fine once you leave,” she all but shrieked.

  “Okay, okay.” The redhead stepped between them. “You two obviously have history. Complicated history. But we haven’t met, I'm Jack’s partner, Rose.”

  She tried to calm her ragged breathing, focusing instead on Jack’s partner. “Hi,” was all she could utter.

  “And you're Laura.” Rose gave her an encouraging smile.

  Laura managed a nod in response.

  “Maybe we can come in?” Rose took a tentative step inside the apartment.

  Giving up, she shrugged and she closed the door behind them, carefully relocking each of her five deadlocks. Laura wished desperately that there was some escape from this, but she knew there wasn't.

  “Laura, I'm sorry.” Jack’s voice rumbled softly beside her.

  “I know, Jack,” she replied wearily. “You told me a million times already.”

  “Laura,” his tone was so serious that she couldn’t help but meet his gaze. “The baby died. She had a miscarriage.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise. That, she hadn’t been expecting to hear. For a moment, it confused her. Had her mind spinning off into unwise territory. But then her common sense kicked back in. “That doesn’t change anything, Jack,” she said, her tone just as serious as his had been.

  “But—” he began to protest.

  “No,” she cut him off again, “no buts.”

  “Laura, it’s been a long time, you know I'm sorry.” Jack sounded frustrated now. He was always so bossy and he hated that he couldn’t order her into forgiving him.

  “So, just because years have passed I should just forget about everything? Forget about what you did?” she demanded.

  “Okay, okay,” Rose once again inserted herself between them like they were two bickering preschoolers. “So, you two have issues. I get it. But we need to talk. Maybe you two can discuss your personal problems another time.”

  “You're right.” Laura took a deep, calming breath. “I'm happy to talk to you, but no way am I having any conversation with him.”

  Jack sighed, but wisely refrained from commenting.

  “I'd offer you something to drink, but I don’t think you're going to be here for long, so hurry up and ask your questions so he can leave.” Laura knew she was being rude, but couldn’t summon enough energy to care.

  Seemingly sensing that her discomfort ran deeper than just having to talk with the cops, and wasn't just because of her complicated history with Jack, Rose smiled again. “We’ll be as quick as we can,” she assured her gently.

  “Okay,” she whispered, all but dragging herself to her couch. No matter how quick they made this, it would never be quick enough. She wanted Jack and his partner out of her apartment immediately. She was wishing she hadn’t even let them in.

  Exchanging a look, Jack gave his partner a nod, and then hung back as Rose came to join her on the couch. “So, you know about what’s happened to some of your neighbors?” Rose began.

  An involuntary shudder ripped through her. It was as much to do with the crimes in her building as it was with the man standing in her apartment. Why, oh why, of all the cops in the city, did it have to end up being Jack Xander who was working this case? This was hard enough to deal with as it was, without adding Jack to the mix.

  Blinking, she realized Rose was watching her with a little frown of concern. “Are you all right, Laura?”

  She gave a shaky nod. “Yes,” she replied in a small voice. “And yes, I know about what happened downstairs. At least, some of it.”

  “You haven’t been following it?” Rose looked vaguely surprised.

  “No, I uh, I don’t like to know that kind of stuff,” she explained.

  “Did you know any of the victims?” Rose continued.

  “No, I don’t know anyone in the building.”

  “But you’ve lived here a long time,” Rose prodded. “You don’t know a single one of your neighbors?”

  “No,” Laura answered simply. She wasn't going to explain her agoraphobia to them.

  “Why were you using a different name, Laura?” Jack asked. “Your name is Laura Opal, but the name on your lease is Laura MacArthur.”

  So no one could find her was the answer to that; but instead, she replied, “MacArthur is my mother’s maiden name.”

  “I know that,” Jack replied, reminding her of just how well he did indeed know her. He knew everything about her. Well, almost everything. He didn’t know about her kidnapping, and if she had her way, he would never find out about it. “Why aren’t you using your real name?”

  Shrugging fitfully, she couldn’t think up a convincing lie to that, so she just kept quiet.

  “Are you scared someone’s going to find you, Laura?” Rose asked gently. “Someone who might want to hurt you?”

  “What? No, of course not.” That at least was true. The men who had hurt her were in prison. It was her family that she didn’t want tracking her down.

  “If you need help, we can help you.” Rose didn’t look convinced by her denials.

  “Thank you, but I don’t need any help. Really. I didn’t know any of the victims, and I don’t have anybody in my past who would want to hurt me. Nor is there anyone in my life who would use me to hurt someone I know. I hope you find whoever hurt those people, but I don’t think I'm going to be able to help you with that,” she finished firmly. She needed them gone. Now.

  “Laura, what ha
ppened to your hand?” Jack’s gaze was fixed on her bandaged hand.

  When she thought about it, her hand ached terribly. When she’d changed the dressing this morning, the burn hadn’t looked like it was doing too well. She probably needed to see a doctor, but there was no way that was happening. She would just have to treat it as best she could and hope it healed on its own. Laura did not want to explain to Jack how she’d burned herself. If she told them she didn’t sleep so she’d been making herself a hot drink when a flashback had distracted her and she’d injured herself, that would lead to a million questions she had no interest in answering.

  “It’s nothing. Really, Jack, its none of your business,” she added when he looked ready to push the issue.

  “I don’t mean to invade your privacy, Laura,” he spoke in an overly patient voice. “It just doesn’t look like you're okay . . .”

  “Of course, I'm not okay,” she snapped. “You're here. You bring up all kinds of bad memories.” Again, that was true. Jack did bring up bad memories. Memories that hurt her just as much as the memories of her assault. “It’s time for you to go,” she announced, standing to dismiss them. “I'm sorry I couldn’t help you, and I truly hope you find this killer before he hurts anyone else.”

  Somewhat reluctantly, Jack and his partner followed her to the door. “Laura, I'm going to leave you my card.” Jack pulled out a card and a pen and quickly wrote on it. “It has my cell phone number on here, so you can reach me any time. I know you're mad at me, and you have every right to be, but if you need help, call me and I’ll be right here.”

  Laura refused to take the card, which didn’t seem to surprise or faze Jack, who merely set it down on the small table by the door.

  “Goodbye, Laura.” His gaze on her was intent.

  She leaned wearily against the door after she had locked it behind them. Her nerves were all aquiver; she didn’t know what to do. She’d considered moving before, because of the attacks in the building, and now she was thinking about it again. Jack knew where she lived. Would he come back and try to talk to her again? From the look on his face when he said goodbye, that was exactly what he was planning on doing. She couldn’t have him disrupting her carefully controlled life. And yet, even the thought of moving left her shaking so badly, she could hardly hold a coherent thought in her head.

  Maybe Jack would just let it go. Just forget about her.

  Only, she knew that he wouldn’t.

  He would find out what had happened to her. It wouldn’t be hard. All he had to do was type her name into a police database and her case would pop up.

  Sinking to her knees, she buried her face in her good hand and sobbed.

  * * * * *

  1:06 P.M.

  “So, are you going to tell me what all that was about?” Rose demanded.

  “Laura and I used to know each other,” Jack answered vaguely; he had barely said a word since they had left Laura’s apartment and come back to the station. He felt like he was in a dream, just as he had ever since he’d seen Laura standing in front of him. That had been a completely unexpected blast from the past.

  Although, when he’d looked at her, it was like no time had passed at all. With her milky white complexion, her long dead straight jet-black hair, her large violet eyes, she was just as drop-dead gorgeous as she’d been back then. And she was just as sweet and loving and caring and thoughtful as she was beautiful. He’d really missed her.

  “Yeah, somehow I got that,” Rose shot back dryly. “Are you going to tell me why she’s so angry with you?”

  Sinking down into his desk chair, Jack didn’t want to think about how he’d hurt Laura much less tell someone about it. “We grew up together,” he reluctantly began. “Her family lived across the street from mine; we’ve known each other since we were babies.”

  “That doesn’t explain why she’s mad at you,” Rose said when he didn’t continue.

  “We dated all through high school. I’d had a crush on her since I was like, seven, but it took me years to get up the courage to ask her out. We were such great friends, I think we were both scared that if we dated and then broke up it would ruin our friendship and we’d end up losing each other.”

  “And you did break up,” Rose prompted when he stopped once again.

  “Oh, yeah.” He nodded.

  “What did you do?” Rose asked.

  “I ruined things. I cheated on her. I was seventeen and stupid and I wanted to have sex and Laura didn’t; she wanted to wait until she was married. But I got drunk at a party and let my hormones get the best of me and slept with this other girl,” he explained in a rush.

  “Oh, Jack.” Rose sounded disappointed in him. But she couldn’t be more disappointed in him than he was in himself.

  “I know. It was stupid,” he agreed. He had lost the single best thing in his life in one moment of stupidity.

  “She found out?”

  “I told her. The girl got pregnant; I knew it was going to all come out and I thought it would be better for her to hear it from me than someone else, so I told her,” he repeated.

  “It didn’t go well, I take it?”

  “You could say that,” he agreed. “Laura freaked out, ended things immediately. I told her that I still wanted us to stay together, that it was a mistake, that I would raise the baby with Melissa as co-parents, but I had no intention of being in a relationship with her. I told Laura how sorry I was, but she was having none of it.”

  “You told Laura that the baby died—did Melissa have a miscarriage?” Rose asked, gently now.

  “Yeah, about a week after I told Laura. I wanted to go to her, to tell her about the baby, to apologize again, but I was too scared she would reject me again.” Letting Laura go had been the second biggest mistake of his life; the first, of course, was cheating on her. Jack had never gotten over her. She was the one true love of his life. In high school, they had planned their whole futures, promising themselves that they would be together forever. And he had ruined it. He had hurt Laura, and he’d never forgiven himself for it.

  “Okay, I get why she can't forgive you. She was young and you broke her heart. She probably felt like you thought sex was more important than her, since you cheated simply because she wouldn’t put out for you. But you were kids back then, you're not anymore—go try apologizing to her again.”

  “You saw how that went down today. She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “She was caught off guard. Try again once she’s calmed down.”

  He might. But right now, convincing Laura to forgive him was not number one on his list of priorities. “Rose, I think it’s Laura. I think she’s the killer’s target,” he informed his partner.

  Rose raised an eyebrow at him and waited for him to elaborate.

  “That was not the Laura I remember. Did you see all the locks on her door?” He continued when Rose nodded. “She had them on the windows, too. She's scared of something. She's lived there ten years, but doesn’t know a single neighbor. She doesn’t want to know about the crimes. She was timid and jumpy and that is so not the Laura I used to know.”

  “But you haven’t seen her in a long time. Not since high school,” Rose reminded him. “Maybe she’s just changed in all those years.”

  “But changed why? We were looking for a previous victim who escaped. What if Laura is that victim?” Jack’s heart constricted so tightly at the very thought of Laura being raped and tortured by this man that he could barely draw a breath.

  “Then look her up,” Rose said gently. “If she was a victim of a violent crime, then there’ll be a record of it in our system.”

  Jack’s fingers froze over the computer’s keyboard. Did he really want to know if Laura had been brutalized? Could he handle it? Could he make himself read the case files and look at the pictures of whatever had been done to her?

  “You want me to do it?” Rose asked softly.

  He gave his head a single shake. Jack felt that he somehow owed it to Laura
to look it up himself. With grim determination, he typed in Laura’s name. And almost immediately, an eleven-year-old case popped up.

  “You find something?” Rose asked.

  “Yes.” His voice shook a little. He printed out the information contained on the computer; he would request the entire case file later. What he had was enough for now.

  As he read, he was vaguely aware of the fact that his breath was coming in small pants. Laura had been grabbed entering her house when she was only twenty. She was taken by two men, Frank and Francis Garrett, to a secluded wooded area where they proceeded to rape and torture her for four days before she was found, close to death, by a group of hikers.

  Reading what had happened to Laura was nowhere near as bad as seeing the pictures. Presumably taken just after she had been rushed to the hospital, they showed every horrible thing that had been done to her. There didn’t appear to be an inch of her body that had been unharmed.

  The bottom of her feet were covered in cuts; a mottled mix of yellow and green and purple and black bruises covered her body; there were scratches over her arms and face, and a large lump on the side of her head. Hand shaped bruises circled her neck. Cigarette burns dotted her body. Three of her fingers stuck out at weird angles. Two of her fingernails had been ripped out. On her back, three words had been sliced into her flesh. ‘Bitch,’ ‘whore,’ and ‘slut.’ Someone had had a lot of rage toward her.

  “You have to breathe, Jack,” Rose’s voice spoke quietly beside him.

  He drew in a ragged breath. “Are you seeing this?”

  “Yeah, poor thing, looks like she suffered horribly.” Rose’s voice was heavy with empathy.

  “This should never have happened to her. It’s my fault,” he intoned quietly.

  “How do you get that?” Rose sounded surprised.

  “If I hadn’t cheated on her, then we would have still been together,” he replied. Guilt crushed heavily down on him.

  “That is the most utterly ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say,” Rose snorted. “There is no way to know that. Even if you two had stayed together, this could still have happened to her.”