The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

With her tiny nod of agreement, he slipped an arm under her back and lifted her, cradling her torso against his chest. She nuzzled her face into his neck, and he bowed his head over her, settling one hip on the table so that he could wrap her securely in his arms.

  Ah, the feel of her nestled against him… Quinn fought to remain calm and bury the killing frenzy clawing at his mind. Rage was the last thing she needed right now. That was his need; hers had to come first.

  She lifted her head and moved away, just a bit, enough to let him reach her ankles. He watched with admiration as she pulled the torn remnants of her dignity around her.

  He maintained contact as he gently untied the knot around one ankle. The grip of her hand, white-knuckled on his bicep, touched him to the core. He leaned across her to untie the other ankle, then turned swiftly to lift her into his arms. He cradled her against him, ready to take on the world to protect her.

  He turned his head to stare at the men in the doorway, one talking quietly to units below. One of the policeman approached a few steps.

  “Mr. Marshall, we’re going to need her statement.”

  “Get Colello up here and we’ll talk.” Dismissing them, he turned away. He heard a sound of protest, quickly stifled.

  Quinn moved down the hall toward the room where he’d smelled her perfume. When they entered the darkened bedroom, she clutched at his shoulder. “Do you want the light?” He felt her nod against his shoulder. He flipped on a lamp beside the bed and started to lay her down.

  She clutched at him. “Please—I don’t want to lie down.”

  Quinn cradled her closer, glancing around the room until he spotted an old, roomy rocking chair. He pulled an afghan off her bed, then made his way to the chair. He sat down with her in his lap and tenderly wrapped the afghan around her. She curled tightly against his chest.

  He leaned his head against the back of the chair and began to rock slowly, holding her close.

  Off in the distance, he heard the low murmurs of men’s voices…the faint crackle of the radios…the tinny wail of sirens.

  In this dark, intimate space, he heard the slow creak of the rocker…the tremulous breathing of a haunted angel…

  …and the thundering of his anguished heart.

  Chapter Eight

  When Lorie began to shiver, Quinn knew grim reality trailed only steps behind them. He held on tightly, stroking her back while careful to keep his rocking at a steady pace.

  “Quinn.” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her. He leaned closer. “Grant? You’re sure he’s safe?”

  “Yes. He’s with Josh. When Colello gets here, I’ll ask if he can post someone there, too, but you know Josh will guard him with his life.”

  She nodded. “Thank God he wasn’t with me. I—I tried to fight, but—” Her trembling increased.

  “You did fine, Lorie.”

  She looked up at him, big blue eyes swimming with tears. “No, I didn’t. Nothing worked. He caught me from behind. He had…Quinn, he had a knife.”

  Quinn swallowed hard. “I know.”

  “I tried to stay strong, but I…” She bit her lip. “I was so scared.”

  “You are strong. Don’t you doubt it.”

  “I don’t feel strong.” All her anguish was in those words. “He—he said I flaunt myself, that I—” She looked away, shame and humiliation in her gaze.

  “You know that’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Of course it’s not.” He cupped her cheek. “Look at me.” When she didn’t respond, he tried again. “Please…Lorie, look at me.”

  She raised her gaze to his, and his heart tore at the devastation darkening those beautiful eyes.

  “He’s sick and he’s twisted. He can’t blame this on you.”

  “I do flaunt myself. I promote myself, I—”

  “You have a job. You do it well.”

  Her eyes snapped. “My life is about vanity. I whore myself, just like he said.”

  He knew her emotions would be all over the map. That she might not hear him, but he had to try, so he summoned the patience to be gentle. “Your work puts you in the public eye, but you know you’re not one of those who seeks undue attention.”

  She kept her eyes averted. Gently yet firmly he forced her to face him. “This is not going to be easy to deal with. You’re going to be on an emotional rollercoaster, and yes, you’re going to ask why this happened to you or look for ways to blame yourself. You’ve been through something terrible and you’ve been hurt in ways you haven’t counted yet.” As the tears flowed down her cheeks, he had to clear his throat to steady his voice.

  “But it’s very important that you remember this. You didn’t do anything wrong. Remember that. You conduct yourself with dignity, day in and day out, and it’s this guy’s sick view of the world that’s at fault, not your behavior. He got the jump on you, and you did the best you could. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “I want to learn how to do better.”

  And I want to get you out of this hellhole of a city so you never go through anything like that again, he thought, even knowing he had absolutely nothing to say about it. “There are many methods available.”

  “Would you teach me?”

  He looked into those eyes that exerted such a powerful pull on him and wished he had the right to make promises to her. “There are plenty of people who will help you if you’ll accept it. You don’t have to go through any of this alone.” Too much in his own life was unresolved to be making promises to anyone, even if his brother’s relationship with her didn’t stand between them.

  Anyway, the last thing she needed to have to deal with was his own inner turmoil. He focused on calming himself, and as he did, he heard her speak softly.

  “I want a shower.” She struggled to sit up. “I want this off.” She picked frantically at the torn dance outfit beneath his shirt.

  He knew from his police experience that she’d have to undergo a physical exam, though he didn’t believe there’d been penetration. “I’m sorry, but you can’t do that yet.”

  “I have to. I can’t—” She was getting more agitated by the second. “Grant can’t see me like this—”

  “Grant’s asleep. He won’t see you until we’re done, but the police—you’ll need to be examined.”

  Horror passed over her features. “No!”

  “Honey, they have to…”

  She recoiled from him. “No, I can’t—no one can see me like this!” Her eyes darted from side to side, searching frantically for escape.

  Just then, a shape materialized in the doorway.

  Colello.

  “Mrs. Chandler, I need to talk to you for a moment.”

  Her head swiveled toward him. She shrilled “No!” and leaped from Quinn’s lap, racing into the bathroom and slamming the door.

  Quinn spared him only a glance. “Let me handle this, Colello.”

  “I don’t have to let you do anything.” As the sound of sobs issued from behind the closed door, Colello looked squarely at Quinn. “This is my job, not yours. You asked for me, now get the hell out of my way.”

  Quinn stepped between him and the bathroom door. He held up a hand, knowing he had no leverage but this man’s goodwill. “Please…I understand what you need to do. I won’t stand in your way, but let me get her out of there. I won’t compromise your investigation. I know what she has to do.”

  As Colello looked at him doubtfully, Quinn pressed harder. “You’re not going to get much of a statement out of her like this.” He indicated the closed door. “Just give me a minute.”

  Colello studied him carefully, then nodded and stepped back. “All right, but I’m warning you…”

  “Detective, I’m the best friend you’ve got here. The lady isn’t too fond of you, remember.”

  Colello sighed. “Two minutes.”

  He turned toward the door.

  “Colello.”

  The detective turned back.

  “Can we
spare her the hospital visit? Get a private doc in here?”

  “You don’t ask much, do you, Marshall?”

  “She’s got a high profile. A hospital visit could turn into a zoo. Call my brother Josh—maybe he’ll know who she uses.” He gave Colello the number. “And, Colello?”

  The man stopped. “What now?”

  “Her son is with Josh. Will you put a watch on them? And tell my brother I don’t want the boy here yet.”

  Colello nodded curtly and left the room.

  Quinn walked forward and placed both hands on the wood that separated them. “Lorie, please open the door. He’s not in here anymore.”

  “No. Go away.”

  He reminded himself that she was running on emotion and delayed reaction right now. “Please open the door. Talk to me.”

  He heard the sound of water being turned on full-force and warred with himself over a desire to let her do what she thought she needed to do, and the knowledge that only solid evidence would convict this maniac when he was caught.

  The desire to protect her over the long term won out. “Lorie, I’m coming in there. We have to talk. Don’t get in that shower yet—please.”

  She screamed, “Don’t come in here!” Something heavy hit the door.

  Not happy about what he knew he had to do, Quinn reached for the knob. When he found the door locked, he took a deep breath, more sorry than she’d ever know that he could not let her be. The scum had to be stopped, he reminded himself. Surely he could help her get past this.

  With a few quick manipulations, the door swung open. His heart tore at the sight before him.

  Lorie stood against the opposite wall, reaching underneath his shirt and tearing at her dancewear, scratching her own skin as she struggled with the garment. Her eyes were wild and haunted.

  He stopped just inside the door, careful to leave distance between them. He held out his hand, palm upward, speaking softly.

  “I have to turn off the water.” At her frantic headshaking, he nodded. “Yes, sweetheart, I do. You can take a nice long shower after the doctor examines you. I’m sorry, but the police will need evidence to convict him.”

  At her quick glance of hope, he shook his head, knowing what she asked. “No, he hasn’t been caught yet. But he will be. I’ll look for him myself.”

  Disappointment warred with desperation. She glanced again at the water.

  “Lorie, you have a say in this. You can help the police convict him when he’s caught, if you’ll work with them.” Pleading with his eyes, he continued. “Make this part of your answer to what’s happened. Work with them. Wait for the doctor, and talk to Colello.”

  Long moments passed as her gaze swept his, then sidled away to stare into the distance, filled with memories he wished he could erase. The haunted expression displayed clearly on her face tore at his heart. He continued to stand there, hand out, waiting.

  At last Lorie stirred and straightened, pulling in a long, ragged breath. She stepped toward the shower and turned off the water. She kept her back to him for an aching span, then turned, arms wrapped tightly around her middle, as if to keep herself from flying apart.

  Still not looking at him, she spoke. “May I…may I please at least change my clothes?”

  A long road stretched out between her total trust of moments before and her giving it to him again, he realized. Quinn spoke around the sorrow strangling him, wishing to hell he didn’t have to give her more pain. “Let me ask Colello. The leotard is evidence.”

  She nodded but still refused to meet his eyes. Instead she pulled on a mantle of regal self-control and walked out of the room, leaving him bereft and aching, wishing to his soul that he could turn back the clock and take it all away.

  Quinn had already given his statement and sat gazing out over the fire escape, pondering the scene below as the dawn light crept into the sky. He looked up when the officer called him to the phone.

  Lorie was in the kitchen with Colello. Quinn had made an attempt to stay with her, though he knew it flaunted procedure. Lorie didn’t seem to want him near, but his need to be with her all but choked him.

  He’d burned some bridges with her, acting like a cop. He wondered now whether he’d made the right decision.

  He picked up the phone. “Hello?”

  Josh spoke quietly. “Grant’s still asleep, so we can talk. Tell me how she’s doing.”

  “She’s…hanging in there. Thanks for finding the doctor.”

  “Yeah. I’ve talked to Ben. The network people are doing their best to keep it out of the news, but it’s just a matter of time.”

  “I know, but every minute we can buy is one more minute for her to deal with it in her own way. She needs that, Josh. This—” he cleared his throat. “This is tough enough without it being sensationalized.”

  “Was it bad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Did he—?”

  “No, thank God. He had her laid out, using the dining table as an altar. She was tied down like a sacrificial virgin, and he was using a knife to slice off her clothes when I got there.”

  “I’m glad as hell you left here when you did.”

  “I shouldn’t have left her alone in the first place!” Quinn shouted. “She never should have been here by herself.” His guilt suffocated him. He’d had a bad feeling about leaving her. He should have known.

  “Stop it, Quinn. Grant could have been there, too. You could have slept through the night. A thousand other things could have happened. Damn it, he could have killed her, but you stopped him. She didn’t get hurt—remember that.”

  “Oh, she’s hurt, all right. Her body may not show the damage, but she’s hurt badly. Don’t kid yourself, Josh. This is going to take a long time for her to get over.”

  They both fell silent.

  “What do I tell Grant when he wakes up?”

  Quinn exhaled roughly. “I don’t know. She doesn’t want him to see her like this, and she’s probably wise. It would scare him. She’s not herself.”

  “Well, at least it’s Saturday and I don’t have to leave. I’ll think of something until I hear from you.”

  “Thanks.” He paused, uncertain how to ask this. “Josh, you want to be here with her instead of me?”

  Surprise flared in his brother’s voice. “Why should I be there?”

  “Well, she is your—I mean, you’re involved with her, not me.”

  Josh surprised him by a half-laugh. “It’s nice to know you’re not always so smart. Lorie and I are friends, that’s all. Didn’t you hear Grant last night when he said I’m like a kid brother? That’s the only way she’s ever treated me.”

  “But why? She’s warm and intelligent and beautiful—”

  “And not interested in me.” Josh paused. “Have you been up in the mountains so long you can’t tell when you’ve caught a woman’s interest?”

  “Me?”

  “Hell, Lorie hasn’t been able to keep her eyes off you since the moment you met. Jeez—you really are blind, sometimes. While you’ve been feasting your eyes on her, you never noticed how often she was looking at you?”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Lorie is my friend, and a hell of a good one. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her, but I’m not the one who lights up her eyes, more’s the pity. Anyway, I’m too young yet. Too many women, too little—hey, is that why you glared at me every time you saw me yesterday?”

  Quinn flushed, glad Josh couldn’t see him. His brother’s chuckle was bad enough.

  “That was it, wasn’t it? Juliette thought you were so obnoxious, when all the time you thought…” His tone suddenly sobered. “Well, anyway, you’re exactly what Lorie needs right now, not me.”

  The leaden feeling settled back in Quinn’s heart. “She thought that at first, but then…”

  “Sorry, bro.” Josh’s tone was serious. “But then you acted like a cop, is that what happened? I’m still glad you’re there with her, and I bet she is, too—whether she says i
t or not.”

  “You’d lose your bet.” Quinn saw Colello emerge from the kitchen and look his way. “I have to go, Josh. I’ll call you.” He hung up the phone and strode over to the detective.

  Colello gave him a hard perusal. “Look, I know you’re not still on the force, but I don’t have the manpower to watch over her. Are you gonna be around?”

  Quinn knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure what was best for her. After his conversation with Josh, he had a lot of thinking to do.

  But he knew for certain that whether or not she wanted him near, he wouldn’t leave her vulnerable again.

  “I’ll be here.”

  Colello nodded. “Good. Look, she says she doesn’t want them, but I can get Victims’ Services here right away. You know what rape victims go through? You understand the reactions?”

  Quinn nodded, reassured by the fact that Colello had drawn the same conclusions as he had about the impact the assault would have upon her.

  Colello continued, “I know that there was no physical penetration, but the loss of control, the degradation she endured makes her reactions very likely to be the same. I can give you some names of people for her to see.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try it her way for a while, but I’d like their numbers. I know what to expect, but the victim’s never been someone—”

  “That you cared about?” Colello finished for him.

  “Yeah.” Even though he had no business getting involved with her. “I don’t want to blow it.”

  The hard-bitten detective surprised him by clapping Quinn on the shoulder in sympathy.

  Then he blew the doors off with his next words. “She knows this guy.”

  “What? Are you kidding me?”

  “He’s one of the paparazzi who follow her around. She doesn’t know his name, but there was a guy with a camera who was the eyewitness for her husband’s accident.”

  “Same guy?”

  “We’ll need someone to ID him, maybe work with a sketch artist.”

  Quinn stared at him. “So her husband’s death really was no accident.”

  “Maybe not.” Colello rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll be going back over the file with a fine-tooth comb. We’ll catch this guy.” He exhaled roughly. “Damn it. Some days this job…”