“Jesus Christ!” Sean’s hands slapped the table and he stood up so fast his chair tumbled over.
Rebecca grabbed hold of her own control in the face of his exploding anger. “He won’t ever do it again.”
“Sonofabitch.”
“Yeah, I know, right? So he’s holding my wrists, pressing into me. I could feel his duty belt against my back. I acted like I would do whatever he wanted, but that he needed to give me some space because I couldn’t breathe. He backed off, but he—” She looked away, awash in shame but not sure why, and that pissed her off because she knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. She forced herself to look Sean in the eyes. “He rubbed against me and squeezed my breasts again and I, well, I—I—I put him down.”
“Show me.”
“What?”
Sean nodded. “C’mon and show me. I need to know.”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out, then stood up and pressed her palms against the wall, approximating her stance at the scene.
“Okay, I’m standing right behind you. Pretend I’m Brewster and show me what happened. In slow motion, please. I’d prefer not to have my balls annihilated for the sake of re-enactment.”
“Real funny, Sean.” Rebecca turned her head to check his proximity. “Closer. Just a little.”
Sean moved closer and waited. In spite of his dry humor, Rebecca felt the tension rolling off him in waves. She looked again and nodded, then made her moves—flexed her arm, elbow against his neck and under his ear, spin, blow to the nose, fist against the nose below the eye on the other side.
“I didn’t hit his nose head on. It happened so fast, and he was so close, I didn’t even have time to take aim, really, just punched out with a couple of solid hits, ” she said, “but hard and fast and, I promise you, with no mercy. I should’ve put him down faster, but I’m out of practice. Anyway, he started yelling, his nose was broken and bleeding, but he was still upright—sort of—so I—” She pushed her hair out of her face again and sighed. “I kicked him in the balls as hard as I could. I wanted him on the ground and I put him there.” She let loose another quivering sigh and blinked back quick tears. “He took Mr. Peabody, Sean, and dumped him somewhere. He told me so.”
“Jesus. Why?”
“He asked me out, and I told him no.” She shrugged. “I guess he wanted to pay me back. Anyway, while he radioed for backup from that mic thing cops wear on their collars, I called you. And here we are.”
The muscle in Sean’s jaw worked and his eyes, pools of deep space blue, flashed with the fire of a supernova. She thought for a brief moment that he might reach for her, hoped like a little girl wishing for a Christmas miracle that he would, but he looked away, jaw tight, pocketed his hands, and stepped back.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“No.” She blew out a frustrated breath, resigned to his distance. “That’s pretty much it.”
“The sheriff is going to—”
A rap at the door interrupted them, and then the door opened with force and banged against the wall. Marybeth stood in the doorway, her cheeks red and her breathing labored.
“Sean, you gotta come see this. And I mean right now.” She looked at Rebecca with a hundred-watt smile and two thumbs up, and then dashed back down the hall with unexpected agility.
“Give me a minute,” he said and followed Marybeth, closing the door behind him.
Chapter 16
“Harvey, move it,” Marybeth said after she rounded the corner. “Sean’s gotta see this.”
The deputy hefted himself from Marybeth’s chair, and the other officers parted like the Red Sea in the wake of her bustling momentum. She dropped into her seat and motioned for Sean to come closer, then tapped her keyboard.
It took Sean a second to clue in to what he was seeing, but when the image of Artie Brewster swinging his hefty torch at the taillight of a Civic came into view, his attention became riveted.
The video played out as Rebecca had described, but with a running commentary adorned with colorful vernacular by whoever caught the event on camera.
“Holy shit. She kicked his ass,” observed Sheriff Brannigan. He stood beside Sean, the corners of his mouth drooping downward. He rubbed his hand over his face and dug into his pocket, coming up with the antacid bottle.
“And then some,” added one of the deputies standing off to the side. “Play it again, Marybeth. This’ll never get old.”
“Hang on, Oscar.” Marybeth swiveled toward Sean and the sheriff. “This has only been up about an hour, and it’s already had almost 10,000 hits.”
“Going viral,” Nate said. “Artie sure stepped in it this time.”
Marybeth shrugged one shoulder. “At least now we know why Artie disabled his dash cam.”
Sean’s brows shot up. The sheriff held up his hands, palms out. “Keep your fancy-pants on, Counselor. I’ve got a lot of investigating to do regarding my deputy. And obviously, in light of this…er…new evidence, Ms. Walker won’t be charged with anything.”
“Have you talked to Cassidy Marsh?” Sean asked.
“Who do you think told me about the video?” Brannigan said. “The DA is all over this mess.”
“You know what this video tells me about Artie Brewster?” Sean said.
“That he’s a certified idiot?” Earl ground out, his bulldog face hung in an angry scowl.
“That he’s done this before. It took a fine combination of stupidity and balls to pull a stunt like this in a busy parking lot during rush hour. He wasn’t worried about being caught. He’s swaggering, sure of his ability to get away with it. What do you suppose is going to happen when I run a notice in the County Times that I’m looking for other victims of this asshole? You can bet we’ll have women coming out of the woodwork to press charges. And I’ll represent every single one of them, pro bono.”
Earl sighed, tapped a handful of tablets from his pill bottle, and slugged them back, chewing while he talked out one side of his mouth. “I already told you I talked to the DA. She’s pissed off times a thousand, so if you want a piece of Artie Brewster you’ll have to stand in line.”
Sean nodded, mollified. “Bastard better never carry a badge or gun again.”
“Not in this county,” Earl said.
“Not in any fucking county.” Sean’s jaw tensed, and he shoved his balled fists into his pockets. “Is Rebecca free to go?”
Earl nodded. “Yep, but I’d still like to get her statement first.” To his deputies he barked, “Get back on patrol. Showtime is over,” and stomped off toward his office.
“I’ll go tell her the news,” Nate said. His eyes swung to Sean, daring him to argue.
The door opened and Caleb strolled in with Big Will. Sean deferred to Nate with a nod and stepped around him to greet Rebecca’s brother and father.
“You’ve seen the video?” Sean asked, and their broad smiles answered the question.
“Told you she could take care of her herself.” Cal shook Sean’s hand. “Thanks for being here.”
“Turns out she doesn’t need my services as there won’t be any charges brought against her, but she was smart to call me nonetheless. It never hurts to have a lawyer on board. Any idea who caught that on camera?”
“A couple of our employees happened to be sitting in the parking lot,” Cal said. “Perfect timing. They called us after they posted it online.”
“How many hits on that video now?” Sean asked Marybeth.
Marybeth clicked her keyboard, eyed the screen and whistled. “Over 15,000 and climbing.”
“Earl needs to take her statement. Give us a few minutes to do that, and then she’s free to go,” Sean said, and left them. He rapped on Earl’s office door and poked his head in. Earl stood with his cell phone held out a few inches from his ear. A female voice shouted through the line. Sean winced, and mouthed, “Nancy?” to which Earl nodded, covered up the phone with his hand, and said in a stage whisper, “I’ll be down to interview her in a minute. Go
tta finish getting my ass chewed out first.”
Sean nodded and left him to it. He let himself into the interview room and stopped short at the doorway. The sight of Rebecca receiving comfort in Nate’s arms slammed into him like a battering ram. Rebecca’s head rested on Nate’s shoulder as Nate stroked his hand over her unruly curls.
“Excuse me,” Sean said, pushing the words past the painful constriction in his throat. “The sheriff needs to take a statement, Rebecca, and then you can go. I’ll…um…” He cleared his throat. “I’ll wait out here.”
He stepped back into the hall and closed the door, biting back his misery. A few minutes later, the sheriff appeared, and this time Sean knocked before entering.
Twenty minutes later the interview ended. He excused himself and left the room with Earl. “Good luck with Nancy,” Sean said when Earl detoured into his office.
“Gonna need more than luck. DA Marsh is on her way over to talk about this mess, and I still have to go to the hospital and talk to Brewster, then notify the Standards and Training Council. They’ll do a separate investigation. Don’t worry, Counselor. Artie Brewster will lose his certs and power to arrest and will face criminal charges if I’m reading the DA right. As well he should, given what I saw on that video.” Earl heaved a mighty sigh and ran his hand over his face. “What a goddamned nightmare. Please reiterate my apologies to Ms. Walker, Sean. I’m sick to death this happened on my watch.”
“Not your fault, Earl. You know about it now, and you’ll handle it.”
The sheriff managed a crooked smile. “You’re okay for a lawyer.”
“High praise,” Sean said and returned the smile. “Before you go home, stop somewhere for chocolates, flowers, and/or jewelry. Mrs. M assures me that’s an acceptable apology strategy when a man screws up.”
Earl chuckled and scratched his head. “Well, now, I suppose Myra would know. See you round the block, Sean.”
“Night, Earl,” Sean said and continued his walk to the lobby.
“There she is!” Big Will’s voice bellowed and Rebecca, coming down the hall with Nate, moved into her father’s embrace. “Good job, little britches. You kicked some serious ass, girl.” Big Will smashed Rebecca against his chest in an exuberant hug. “You really can take care of yourself.”
“Been telling you, Daddy,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.
“My shift is over,” Nate said the moment Big Will released Rebecca from his bear hug. He spared Sean a quick glance before he said to Rebecca, “I’ll drive you home.”
“My car—”
“Impounded,” Nate said. “You won’t be able to get it until tomorrow, anyway.” He took his keys from his pocket. “C’mon, let’s get you home. You’ve had a rough day.”
Rebecca’s shoulders drooped, but the corners of her lips curved up in a rueful smile. “You have no idea. Cal, Dad, thanks for coming. Sean, thank you for being here.”
“Of course.” He stepped back, and because he itched to touch her, pocketed his hands before he did something stupid. He wanted her in his arms, to stroke her hair, to kiss her face, to tell her he was proud she protected herself, thrilled that she called for help when she needed it—she had such a problem doing that, asking for help—relieved that events played out as they had and she’d face no legal charges. He noted fatigue in the purple circles beneath her mossy eyes and the paleness of her skin, white and stretched taut with the stress of events. He wanted to bring her home and massage the tension from her shoulders, ply her with hot tea or wine or whatever the hell she wanted that would ease the strain from her tired muscles and eradicate the haunted look from her eyes. He wanted—
Well. What he wanted didn’t matter. She was with Nate now, and better off for it.
“Cal, Will, good to see you. Nate.” Resigned, he shook the other man’s hand. “Looks like she’s all yours.”
Rebecca’s head swiveled and her eyes, surprised and vulnerable, met Sean’s for an instant before she looked away. He would have given a king’s ransom to read her mind at that moment.
“I’ll take good care of her,” Nate said.
“I think I’ve proven I can take care of myself.” Rebecca made eye contact with all the men in her circle, the vulnerability replaced by a raised chin and stubborn determination.
“It doesn’t hurt to be spoiled now and then.” Nate nudged her with his shoulder and smiled down at her. “How about we order something from Caravicci’s and have them deliver? You’ve got to be starving.”
“Actually, I am.” She laid her hand against her abdomen and a funny look crossed her face. Her eyes darted to Sean before she looked away. “A salad and calzone is what I was after before Artie messed things up, and it still sounds good.”
“Then a salad and calzone is what you’ll get.” Nate slid his arm around her shoulders. “C’mon, beautiful, let’s go.”
The glass doors swung open ahead of a woman wielding a briefcase and a black leather tote. She started to go around their group until her eyes, blue and laser sharp, lit on Sean, and her lips curved in a feline smile.
“Hello, Sean.” Her gaze slid to Rebecca. “Ms. Walker, I presume?” At Rebecca’s nod she said, “I’m District Attorney Cassidy Marsh.” She set her briefcase down and held out her manicured hand. “Nice to meet you, and sorry for your troubles with the deputy. You have my word that he’ll be dealt with to the full extent of the law.”
“Thank you,” Rebecca said.
“My client is just leaving, Cass. We can make an appointment for later in the week if you want an interview,” Sean said.
“I’m not sure that will be necessary. I understand Earl took a statement, and given the video evidence, I think I have everything I need for now.” She nodded at Rebecca. “Enjoy your evening Ms. Walker.” She turned to Sean. “What about you? Free for dinner?”
“That depends. You’re not going to drag me to that scary diner on North Gap Road again are you?”
Cassidy laughed, the throaty sound at odds with her professional appearance. “How about Chez Eloise instead? My treat. I owe you for that stock tip you gave me on the winery start up.”
“I’ll head that way now, grab us a table.”
“Good. I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m done with Earl.”
Sean watched Cassidy stride down the hall, her heels and slim pencil skirt accentuating the shapeliness of her calves.
“Pretty lady.” Big Will grinned at Sean. “Looks like you’ve got a date.”
“You ready to go?” Nate said to Rebecca.
“More than,” she said with a weary nod.
“Good night, little mite,” Big Will said, still grinning ear to ear.
“See you around, old hound.” Rebecca rose to her toes to kiss her father’s cheek.
Sean watched Rebecca leave with Nate and told himself she was in good hands.
***
Rebecca collected her car first thing in the morning, swung by the pharmacy for her prescriptions, downed the anti-nausea meds, and went straight to the Lump & Grind where she ordered a large coffee, two of Greta’s mammoth cinnamon buns—one for now, one for later, because the possibility still existed that she might puke the first one up in half an hour—and four sides of bacon because, well, she didn’t know why, just that she thought she might curl up and die if she didn’t eat bacon. It had to be the Little Booger, messing up her good dietary sense. Anyway, bacon might be loaded with fat, but it was pork-powered protein, right? Didn’t that make it good for you?
She munched the bacon on the drive to the office and settled at her desk with the coffee and cinnamon bun, powered up her laptop, and watched the video of her run-in with Artie Brewster. It had garnered more than 80,000 hits overnight and the number continued to climb. Though the grainy video made identification difficult, news like this in a small town like Bright Hills traveled like wildfire. She’d been forced to shut her phone off to avoid friends and neighbors who wanted details, and although Trey and Howard blabbing the
ir own version of the Beauty and the Beast tale all over town annoyed her, she admitted that she owed them big time and they were due a special thank you.
Lunch or dinner out, maybe to Bubba-Jo’s. Or maybe they’d rather have pizza and beer at Caravicci’s. She’d even spring for Chez Eloise. It would be expensive, but they’d earned it.
Chez Eloise, where she and Sean lit the fuse, and where Sean had a date last night with the attractive District Attorney who wore her fitted Ann Taylor suit to full advantage, showing off her spectacular legs and slender build. Rebecca wondered exactly what dinner entailed, or more to the point, after dinner.
She forced her thoughts back to Howard and Trey, rubbed her flat tummy and sighed. Any old restaurant would do, as long as they served bacon.
The door opened and Big Will lumbered in. “Morning, little britches.” He paused beside her chair to kiss the top of her head. “I saw you got your car back.”
“Yep. Easy peasy. Sheriff Brannigan smoothed the way.”
“Huh,” he grunted. “I bet he did. Uh, listen.” He moved to one of the chairs facing her desk, dropped into it and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I had a long talk with Cal last night, and I’ve been doing some thinking. I know you’ve got yourself set to leave here, and I know why. I guess I don’t blame you, what with me being so unhappy about your involvement in the business.” Rebecca opened her mouth to speak and he silenced her with a look. “Hear me out.” He drew a deep breath and expelled it in a puff, stood, and paced in front of her desk while he considered his words.
Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 Page 26