“Okay. Let me take you in.” They started toward the door, Post chattering away. The adrenaline had consumed them all. In a few hours they’d crash, but for now they were all on speed.
“When we got the call, it was all I could do to keep Betsy in the bed. She wanted to come charging down here, deal with the vic herself. I practically had to handcuff her to get her to stay.”
“That’s my girl.” Taylor gave him a crooked smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less out of her. She’s a ballsy broad.”
The inside of the house was lit up like a Christmas tree, every light in the house glared. Ignoring the setting, Taylor went directly to a small brunette wrapped in a white sheet. Good, she thought. Standard protocol for a rape victim, wrap her up and make sure she didn’t contaminate the evidence, or lose any by changing before they got her to the hospital and took all the samples for the PERK, the physical evidence recovery kit.
The woman looked up at Taylor, eyes glazed. “Who’re you?”
“I’m Lieutenant Taylor Jackson. I wanted to check on you before we take you downtown to Baptist. Are you okay?”
“I’m Nancy. Nancy Oldman. I’m…well, I’m not okay, but I will be. The officer over there said that you might have caught him? The man who…who raped me?” The woman’s small pointed chin lifted a fraction, her strength not completely sapped.
“We did have an altercation with a man outside your property line. Can you tell me anything about the man who attacked you?”
Nancy sniffed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. Just as quickly, they were gone. “I didn’t see his face. He had a black ski mask on. But he stank. Smelled like gasoline, or something. He was quick, just grabbed me, threw me down and it was over so fast, I just don’t know what to tell you. It seemed like an eternity but I know it couldn’t have been that long. I mean…” She was babbling but stopped and drew in a deep breath. “You’re hurt. Are you okay?”
Taylor stooped to get to eye level. “I’m fine. Nancy, we’re going to need you for this. Are you willing to testify against the man who did this once we have him officially in custody?”
The chin came up another fraction of an inch. “Yes. I’ll testify.”
“Good girl. I’m going to let you get to the hospital here with Detective Post. You’ve done great, Nancy. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” Taylor patted her awkwardly on the knee, the sheet rustling under her hand.
She smiled at Post then left the house. She needed a hot bath and some Advil, take some of the sting away from her bruised face. But first, she had to run the gauntlet.
As she got to the end of the driveway, the din started. Reporters fought in a rugby scrum to get to her. She stopped, held up her hands. The lights flared in her eyes and she was blinded for a second. She heard a gasp from one of the women; she couldn’t see which one it came from but surmised that she must look like hell. She ran her hand through her hair, trying to get it in some semblance of order. A leaf fell out and she almost laughed out loud. The wild woman of Borneo speaks to the press.
“I have a brief statement,” she said and the crowd hushed.
“We have taken into custody a male Caucasian who was apprehended running away from the scene of this home invasion. It is possible that he was the perpetrator of this crime. I’m sure the department spokesman will have plenty more information for you later this morning. Thank you.” She turned and started toward her truck. The cries followed her.
“Lieutenant, was this the work of the Rainman?”
“Have you finally caught the serial rapist?”
“Has he been taken to night court?”
“Did he hit you, Lieutenant?”
That one she decided to answer. She turned back to the reporters and tried to wink, but her eye wasn’t working properly. “At the very least, he will be charged with assaulting an officer.” She gave them a smile, then got into the truck and headed for home. All in a night’s work.
Forty-One
“Dear God, Elle, you have to stop. I need to get on the road and get home. My wife’s going to kill me if I don’t make it back soon.” In response, the brunette just smiled and slid lower down his body. He felt the warmth of her mouth, and the dark head started bobbing up and down, harder and more rhythmically, in his lap. He lost himself for the moment. Why not get off one more time before he headed back into the frigid world he called a family? He couldn’t remember the last time his wife had been in the position Elle was in. The brief thought of Quinn on her knees was enough to push him over the edge. Elle jerked back in response, giving him a dirty look.
“Sorry, Elle, I lost track. I apologize,” he said to her back as she went to the bathroom to wash out her mouth. Women, he thought, can’t do anything right with them.
He zipped his pants and stood, stretching to nearly six foot four. He glanced in the mirror and saw that his sandy-blond hair was mussed. He ran his fingers through it to smooth it down and caught the sadness in his eyes. He couldn’t identify the exact moment that being in a hotel room with a virtual stranger was a better alternative to being at home with his wife and their two kids, but somewhere, somehow, that had become the norm. He’d finish a trip but not want to go home. He would find himself lingering over the end of a presentation with a sales rep here, or accepting a dinner invitation from a marketing department head there, and his serial promiscuity had begun.
It was fun for a while. It was nice to have a woman fawn all over him, even if he was the boss and deep down he knew what they were looking for. But after Quinn had discovered the proverbial lipstick on his collar, except it was on a pair of boxer shorts, any hope of reconciling with his wife left him. They stayed in the same house, raised their children, but didn’t speak a word to each other than what was necessary for civility or pretense.
He wished he could undo things, make it right with his wife. If he could just go back to that moment that things went south. Quinn had shared a secret that had floored him. He had not reacted well, and she had simply shut him down. He tried to get her to see reason, that he was only surprised, not repelled, but she was having nothing of it. So his enforced exile had begun, and before he could stop it, it was too late. His marriage was done.
His companion came out of the bathroom and struggled back into her skintight clothes. She slid a zipper up her left side, fluffed out her hair and stood looking at him expectantly. He started to say something to her, anything, but he couldn’t get the words out. He was just too damn tired. He’d been on the road for weeks, traveling all over the Southeast, and dammit, he wanted to go home to his wife.
Elle stood there a moment longer and realized her ephemeral lover was not going to profess true love and offer to sweep her off her feet and into his BMW-clad wheels. She stomped haughtily from the room and he breathed a sigh of relief. Oh well. She wasn’t the right type anyway. There would be others. In the meantime, he had time to catch a shower, load up the car, have a beer or two in the hotel bar, then make his way back to Nashville.
The BMW stood in the shadows, out of the soda vapor lights that dominated the parking lot of the hotel. Without the keys it was harder, but it was not a huge problem. Checking to make sure no one was watching, he slipped open the driver’s-side door and pulled the latch for the trunk. He walked quickly to the back of the car and lifted the trunk lid open silently. The cavernous space yawned at him and he smiled. Plenty of room.
He pulled up the carpeting and exposed a small hole meant for a spare tire. The spare was gone, he had taken it out months before to make room for all of the accumulating crap that accompanied him on his road trips. It made the perfect hiding spot. He placed the bag in the hole lovingly, then placed the carpet back over the spot. With a last look around, he walked to the edge of the parking lot where he’d left the girl. He reached down for her, amazed, as always, at how much they weighed when they were dead. It seemed they were as light as a feather when they were in his arms, but after they stopped breathing they became as heavy as lead. He swung the girl up and over his shoulder and staggered the last few feet to the trunk of the car. With a heave, he flopped her into the trunk, watching with a smile as her hair fanned itself perfectly around her pale face. He couldn’t have done that if he tried. It was faultless.
