“Dr. Powell’s helped me work through a lot of my feelings. I’ve been able to let go of the anger I was holding on to.”
“I hope whatever anger you had directed on me is resolved.”
She tilted her head, eyes shimmering with tears she managed to hold at bay despite the painful memories that sat heavily in the air between them. “I was never angry at you.”
“It’s a relief to hear you say it.”
“Even before I’d confirmed that you saved my life, I was sure you had. The streets were deserted that night, and I ran for so long without seeing another soul. When I saw your headlights, I didn’t realize you were a cop. I just ran straight for your car and…” She sucked in a shocked breath.
“What?” Johnson leaned forward, concerned for Ellie.
“I just remembered that.” She closed her eyelids tight, lips moving as she struggled to force the memory out. Grimacing, she slammed her fists down on her thighs. “Dammit. It was right there. I can see your headlights bouncing as you went through the dip at the corner. My hair was wet and sticking to my face. My footsteps were loud, but my heartbeat was louder.”
“We never found your other shoe.” His stomach churned, bile threatening as the memory of the sickening thud of her body hitting the grill of his car pushed its way to the forefront. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to continue, if only for her sake. She needed to know everything, and he was the only one who could help her. “Sometimes, when pedestrians are hit, their shoes end up in impossible places.”
“I wasn’t wearing the other shoe.” She gasped again. “I just remembered that too. I only had one shoe on when I was running, and I was mad at myself for not being able to ignore the pain. I was running for my life, and I still hobbled over the sharp rocks in the gravel driveway.” She went still again, rigid and silent before shaking her head and cursing under her breath. “And it’s gone again. Why can’t I remember?”
“Trauma.”
“Shouldn’t it be healed by now?”
“Not that kind of trauma,” he explained.
She frowned. “I wish I knew how to fix it. If I could just remember what he looked like, or something distinct about him.”
“I wish I’d gotten his name, or at least a good description so I could help you with this, Ellie. Anything is better than what I had at that point.”
“He would’ve lied. The fact that he thought to help you load me into the car speaks to his manipulation. He could’ve hidden, but he chose to reveal himself to be involved in saving me. It was smart, because why would you suspect someone who was just a helpful bystander?”
His shoulders stiffened, and his jaw clenched, unwilling to accept brushing away the incomplete job he’d done that night. “Don’t make excuses for me. I might have been a rookie, but I was still a cop. Interviewing witnesses is part of that.”
“When did you have time? I was going to die. Stopping to get the information of a random guy who was at the right place at the right time didn’t make sense.” Ellie’s voice had risen with each statement, her tone tight with frustration. She paused and took a deep breath, and when she spoke again, her voice was calmer, her expression softer than moments before. “You did what you had to do, and no one can fault you for that. Least of all me. You made my survival a priority. I’m grateful for that.”
“I can’t believe he was right there, and I didn’t even consider it. Don’t beat yourself up over this. This is my mistake, not yours.”
“You couldn’t have known. No one can blame you for that.” Ellie’s braid flicked over her shoulder as she shook her head vehemently, turning her palms upward. “Who would ever guess that the kidnapper ran toward the police instead of hiding? He’s not your normal criminal. There’s no way any of us would’ve assumed your helper was more than just a good guy in the right place at the right time.”
Some of the tension drained from his body. As much as he wanted to blame himself for her kidnapper getting away, Johnson knew Ellie was right. He stroked his chin and sighed, giving her a smile. “I appreciate you saying that. I had nightmares for months after. Once I was sure you were going to lead a full and happy life, they got fewer and further in between, but that first month was hell.”
“You’re the only reason I’m still here,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. “I can’t tell you what that means to me. I was inspired as much by you as by what happened to me. I didn’t remember much, even back then, but I remembered that you were there every time I opened my eyes. I felt safe, and that’s all that mattered in the days after my escape.” Her voice caught. “I can’t tell you how important that was.”
“I’m glad I could be there for you.” His smile turned wistful. “When I saw your name on the list of applicants for Charleston PD, I knew you were going to shake things up. You’re the only survivor we know of. If the kidnapper is still alive, he’s probably still reeling from losing you that night. I don’t have to tell you that most potential victims of serial killers don’t escape. You’re very lucky.”
A dark cloud settled over her face, and he knew he’d stirred up bad emotions again, but it was too late to take the words back. To his relief, she nodded, her quivering lip the only sign that reliving that night upset her as much as it did him. “You’re right. I don’t always
