cream.
“Oh, my God. This is amazing.”
“It’s eighty-five dollars an ounce so don’t fall in love.”
“Too late.” Sarah smiled and winked at Josh.
Josh chuckled and shook his head. “I guess I need to start making more money.”
“Just stick with me, kid. I’ll take you places and show you things.”
After dinner they drove back up the strip to The Venetian.
“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” Sarah asked.
“What?”
“Ride the gondolas. I know it’s corny but I think it would be fun.”
“I’m down for it.”
“I know it’s not exactly Venice but it’s the next best thing.”
“Actually, the French Riviera is the next best thing or maybe Paris. These guys don’t even have real mustaches. I bet they don’t even speak Italian.”
“Don’t ruin it. Let’s go. It’ll be fun.”
The gondolier welcomed them aboard. Sarah turned and winked at Josh as if to say: “See, he does speak Italian.”
They pushed off from the little dock and began rowing toward a small walk bridge where another gondola had just passed. As they drifted out across the artificial lake, the gondolier began singing “Caro Mio Ben,” an old Italian love song.
“Isn’t this cool? He’s got a pretty good voice, huh?”
“Ask him if he knows any Prince.”
“You’re funny.” Sarah smacked him on the arm, then snuggled up against him again.
Night had fallen and the lights of the strip outshined the moon and stars. It felt like a perfect honeymoon. It was easy for Sarah to imagine that they were actually in Venice, that they weren’t in the same town they lived in every day. Sarah pulled Josh closer as she realized that the night was almost over. Tomorrow they would be going back home, back to their normal lives. Sarah hoped the nightmare was over now.
Back at the hotel, Josh and Sarah ordered a bottle of champagne from room service and crawled into bed. They clicked through channels on the TV and then settled on a prime-time special about Barack Obama. They watched it for a while, then changed the channel to
They sipped wine and cuddled, enjoying the warmth of each other’s body. Occasionally, they kissed. Before she fell asleep, she turned on the digital recorder and slid it under the pillow.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Once again, Sarah woke up and reached under the pillow for the recorder. Josh was still sleeping, snoring a low, rumbling lion’s purr that was somehow not the least bit unpleasant. Sarah rewound the recorder and pressed play. She sat for a long moment listening to nothing but the occasional moan and snort and the sound of rustling pillows. She was just about to turn off the recorder when she heard herself scream.
“
All the hairs stood up on Sarah’s skin and she sat up bolt straight in bed. Her jaw dropped and the saliva in her mouth dried up. She began to tremble all over. Her teeth chattered as a chill crawled over her. She could not move, couldn’t think.
It sounded like she was being murdered. Sarah rolled over and shook Josh awake.
“Josh! Josh! Oh, my God. Listen! Listen. I’m not crazy!”
Sarah shook him until his eyelids flew open and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to orient himself and give her his full attention. She held the recorder out to him, pressing it up against his ear as he struggled up from sleep. Just then she heard the unmistakable sound of Josh’s voice come over the recorder.
“Shhhhh. Baby, you’re having a dream. Go back to sleep.”
Sarah wilted.
“A dream?”
“You woke up screaming in the middle of the night. You said you were being attacked.”
“A dream?”
It should have been a relief but somehow it made her feel like an idiot. She tossed the covers aside, ran into the bathroom, and shut the door. This time, she didn’t make it into the shower before the tears came.
Sarah sat in the bottom of the tub letting the water strike the top of her head and run down her face. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there when she slowly began to feel another emotion come over her, relief. If it was all a dream, then that meant she had not been raped. It also meant she owed the neighbor an apology. Her relief was short-lived however.
Through the sound of the shower, Sarah heard Josh knocking on the door. They were gentle, cautious knocks, Josh checking to see if she was okay.
“I’m all right. I just feel a little silly. I’ll be out in a minute,” Sarah called out.
Josh knocked again.
Sarah turned off the shower and stepped out of the tub.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
“I think you need to come out now. You’ve got a call. It’s the detective.”
Sarah wrapped a towel around her head and another around her waist. She stepped out of the bathroom and the moment she opened the door and saw her husband’s face, she knew there was something wrong.
“They found semen,” he said.
Sarah’s expression asked the question that froze on her lips.
Josh shook his head and dropped the phone into her hand.
“It’s not mine.”
Sarah couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She lifted the phone to her ear, still staring at Josh.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Lincoln?”
“Yes?”
“This is Detective Trina Lassiter. I met you at the hospital on Friday.”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to let you know that we got the lab results back. They tested positive for seminal fluid.”
“Wh-where? Where did they find it?”
“Everywhere.”
“Wh-what do you mean everywhere?”
“Mrs. Lincoln, we found traces of semen in your rectum, in your vagina, in your mouth. It was everywhere.”
Sarah shook her head in disbelief, her mouth still hanging open in shock, stupefied by what she was hearing.
“D-did they test it against my husband’s?”
“Yes, we did. Unfortunately, your husband’s semen was a negative match.”
Sarah felt her stomach drop as if she were back on one of the roller coasters. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint. She dropped to her knees and began regurgitating violently.
“How is that possible? Th-they said there were no signs of rape. How is it possible? It was him! It was Dale. I know it was him.”
Sarah picked up the phone again.
“What about the drugs? Did they find anything in my blood?”
“No signs of any barbiturates or narcotics. No sign of hallucinogenics either.”
“Did they check for roofies? What about GHB or ketamine?”
