They were going to have to set a date. An end date to their fling. After Jayden left, Emma couldn’t concentrate. All she could think about was seeing this cat. And him.
The oh-so-sexy parole officer had a cat. Or rather, the cat had him. He was a surprisingly tender person, evidently, and a tender lover, too, in addition to being inventive enough to speak to all sides of her. The more layers of him she uncovered, the more she liked him.
So yes, setting an end date was in order. Maybe the following week. Another seven days or so ought to do it. The honeymoon sex phase would be through. If it weren’t after office hours, she’d call the clinic and set up her next insemination appointment right then.
Giving up on work, she packed up for the day. She was ready for court in the morning. And ready for trial the week after. The other fourteen cases needing imminent attention would wait another day.
She had to get this desire out of her system. Out of her life. She was trying to take care of the elephant in the room, but the more she tried, the bigger it seemingly got.
Stopping at a drive-through gourmet salad place, something new in Santa Raquel, she ordered avocado and tuna tapas and drove to the beach. She parked so she could see the waves coming into shore, opened her windows and sat there and ate. Every bite was delicious. Sensual. Taking her closer to the time she’d be at Jayden’s house. She’d ordered tea with her salad. Thought about another bottle of wine, but decided that pouring it down the sink, as they’d done with a good part of the other two bottles, was a waste of money.
If he had any beer left, and they wanted libation, she could just sip on some of that. Like he’d sipped on the wine she’d chosen.
Wine made her think of chocolate. And chocolate led to dessert. A dessert of Jayden’s long, lean body. She knew it fairly well by now. And still found it a mystery. All of the things she’d like to do to give him pleasure. To take pleasure from him. He was such a good man, too. Dedicating his life to others, believing in them when no one else did. Taking in a stray cat...
No. Wait. Their time together...she couldn’t let herself start to actually feel things for the man. Only for his body. She had to get back to their sexual relationship. To stick to their rules.
She tried. She really, really tried. His body definitely gave her much to think about. As did the various ways he looked at her. The way he talked to her without words.
A couple was walking at the edge of the tide, holding hands. The woman stopped to pick up something in the sand. The man looked at it, then at her. Kissed her.
Emma swallowed a lump in her throat. Yeah, that was lovely. But it wasn’t for her. She went for wild men, not the guys who were sweet. The ones who were content to settle for monogamy and sameness...she broke their hearts.
Was bored by them. Couldn’t make herself love them.
So raising a baby on her own, a family on her own, wouldn’t be what she’d once hoped for, but life was what you made it and she could make it great.
Stuffing the rest of her dinner in the bag she’d pulled it from, she started her Lexus and left the parking lot. She’d had enough beach time. She had to go get her some body time.
Halfway home, her mind busy planning to change into something a bit sexier and less professional, she had a call from Sara. Suzie Heber was at the Stand, in a group session. She said she’d only talk to Emma if Emma came to the Stand while she was there.
Changing course immediately, she thought about Jayden sitting at home, expecting her to arrive soon. Thought about calling him. About hearing his voice. Wanting to see him. Maybe agreeing to stop by when she was through.
And waited until she pulled into the Stand to text him instead.
As a prosecutor who worked with the Stand’s victims, and a member of the High Risk team, Emma had a pass to the private parking lot behind the Stand, as well as a key card that allowed her admittance to the grounds. She met Sara at the counselor’s office. Suzie wasn’t there yet. An evening volunteer counselor was in with the group and she’d bring Suzie to them when group was done, which should be within minutes.
“I didn’t expect her to see me,” she told Sara, a married mother of two. While Sara was three years older than Emma, Emma still felt...less than...as she sat there. Like Emma had accomplished so much less in life than she had. The other woman had it all: a full-time career and a home with two kids. The husband was a bonus.
But the kids... She looked at the pictures on Sara’s desk. They were adorable. Heart-stopping cute. Happy.
She definitely had to call the clinic.
“She didn’t seem to mind speaking with you at all,” Sara was saying, focused on work. As Emma should be. “My bit of concern came from the fact that it was tonight or not at all.”
“As though she’s not coming back,” Emma reiterated from their earlier phone call. “You think that’s because she’s really okay? Or because she’s in denial?”
“I think it’s because she’s scared.” The woman’s blue eyes showed concern. As slender as Sara was, as feminine-looking with dark blond shoulder-length wavy hair and sensible clothes, she was also as strong as they came.
And as calming, somehow. Sitting on one end of the couch in Sara’s office, leaving the other end for Suzie, Emma faced the counselor in her usual chair across from her.
“Her ex-husband’s getting to her again.”
“That’s my assessment. And we’re up against a bit of a wall here since she cooperated last time and lost.”
Her fault. She knew what they were up against. She’d blown Suzie’s trust. Not that Sara blamed her—as she’d made clear multiple times over the years.
“But she agreed to speak with me.”
Sara nodded. “I was encouraged by that, as well.”
“You have any pointers for me?” Emma was a prosecutor, not a counselor. Building back lost trust...she wasn’t sure how to do it—and in only one meeting, with no preparation time.
“Just be yourself,” Sara told her. “You’ve got this just by being who you are. Truth and honesty, in action as well as word, are your strongest tools—”
A knock on the door interrupted them, followed by the door opening and a woman unfamiliar to Emma peeking her head in just enough to announce Suzie and usher her inside. She came in, limping in her black boot, and shut the door behind her.
Auburn-haired, with a model-like frame, Suzie’s shoulders were hunched, her face makeup-less as she took a seat on the vacant end of the couch. She’d been dressed as drably, with her hair pulled into a ponytail and no makeup every other time Emma had seen her. She’d gained a little weight, but not enough.
None of that shocked Emma. What got her was that when she opened her mouth to speak to Suzie, she choked up.
She was a professional. Not once, in all her years of lawyering, or even studying to be a lawyer, in all the heinous photos and videos she’d had to study, all the details she’d had to relive, had she ever shown undue emotion in front of a witness, victim or defendant. Her ability to compartmentalize was one of the talents that made her so good at what she did.
“I’m sorry,” she said, apologizing for her shocking emotionalism. “I’m so, so sorry, Suzie. I let you down and now...”
The other woman glanced over, her head still slightly lowered. “I don’t blame you, Ms. Martin. You tried your best. I knew he’d win, but it just felt so good, having someone on my side, I wanted to let you try...”
She’d known he’d win? That was the first Emma had ever heard that. And a horrifying thought occurred to her. Was it possible Suzie had known Emma wouldn’t win because she hadn’t told Emma the truth?
Emma had never even considered that possibility. Not after seeing the doctor reports, the police reports and listening to Suzie’s own testimony.
“My ex-husband is a powerful man,” Suzie continued softly. “Not like powerful because of being rich, and being able to buy off whatever you need, but powerful in a much worse way. He believes he’s right and you can’t convince him otherwise. But he’s not all bad. He really loves people and wants to do things right, too. He apologizes for his mistakes and...”
Suddenly fearing that Suzie had agreed to the meeting solely so she could sing her husband’s praises to Emma—to get her to “leave it alone”—Emma went on full alert.
Could Bill be putting her up to this?
Needing to know what the woman was thinking, but reminding herself not to get intense, she tried to school only compassion into her features. Not assessment. She didn’t want to make Suzie feel like it was the two professionals against her.
“So...are you telling me now that the things you told me before—about Bill hitting you, about him beating you up the day you lost your baby, rather than you falling as you both told the doctor when he took you in—none of that was true?”
For a moment Suzie straightened. “That was true,” she said. “I’ve never lied to you.” She lowered her head again. “That day...my baby... I knew I had to at least try... I told you the truth because of my baby, not because I really thought that you could do anything about him. My baby deserved to have the truth known.”
“You could keep quiet for yourself, but not for your child,” Sara said and Suzie nodded.
“So what about now?” Emma asked, in control of her emotions now, honing in. “Is he hurting you again, Suzie?”
Her hair hanging to her lap, she shook her head. Emma looked to Sara over the bent head, and Sara gave a little negative shake of the head. Advising her not to push?
But if they only had this one chance.
“Then why are you here?” Emma asked the question raging most in her mind at the moment.
Suzie looked over at her. “You asked to speak with me.”
It was a compliment to her. She filed that away. “I meant, why are you in counseling at the Stand?”
“I’m afraid.”
“Of Bill?”
Suzie nodded.
“He’s hitting you again, isn’t he?”
Head bowed, she shook her head again. As though the man’s power over her was so great, she just couldn’t admit his crimes. Not after what had happened before.
“How did you get those bruises?” Emma was referring to the most recent injury, the one reported to the team the week prior, which, among other things, had left Suzie with a bruise on her chin. It was yellowed now, but still visible if you knew what you were looking for.
“I fell.” Suzie’s face was hidden by her hair.
She could push. But not as hard as Bill was already doing, she surmised.
“Can you do something for me?” Emma just went with her instincts. She could trust them.
Raising her head, Suzie looked at her.
“I have a question, something that’s been bothering me. From the past.”
Suzie nodded.
“When I asked you who Bill thought the father of your baby might be if it wasn’t him, you never answered me. Why?”
Eyes filling with tears, Suzie said, “Because it was so wrong. So crazy. And ugly. I...I didn’t want...the guy...to know. He’d be so hurt by Bill’s accusations...”
“Who was he?”
“He was just a nice guy! Younger than me by seven years. His mother had just died and his stepfather was working all the time.”
“How did you meet him?”
“He was in our neighborhood—the old one before the divorce. I moved after Bill went to prison, after he broke in.”
“So why did Bill think that you’d...that this kid and you had...”
Suzie shook her head, tears falling in earnest now. “I talked to him,” she said. “I should never have talked to him. I saw him outside and I said hello. He asked if he could mow our grass, and I said sure. Bill was working so hard at the shop and we were busy at work and I didn’t have time. He needed the money. And it gave him something constructive to do.” The woman talked about a couple of times the boy had talked to her. How he’d come to her a time or two when he was having a rough time.
“You liked him.” Sara handed over a tissue box and Suzie took two.
“Of course I liked him!” she said, wiping her eyes and nose. “He was a sweet kid. Bill and I were trying to have a family and he’d just lost his mother. I liked that I could help him, even a little bit. It made me feel good about myself. But not in a guy-girl kind of way! I was seven years older than him! What Bill said...not only would it have made me a criminal, but it would have changed his life forever, too. Ruined it probably because his stepfather would have kicked him out.”
“Did you ever tell the kid what Bill thought?”
“Of course not. And I didn’t tell anyone else, either. I knew Bill wouldn’t. It just made him look bad, thinking something sick like that. And anyway, by the time we were going to trial, we already had the DNA and Bill knew the truth.”
“Can I know the boy’s name?”
Suzie stared at her then, almost pleadingly. “I’d rather not say.” Her words were strong. Clear. “He’s got a life now, I’m sure. Maybe in college. I’m not going to be responsible for messing up his life. He was an innocent kid.”
But if he could corroborate Bill’s abuse...it could be the missing piece Emma needed. To convince Jayden. And the court. If they could get a warrant for Bill’s phone records...anything.
“Did he ever see Bill hurt you?”
“No. Bill always made sure that was just between me and him.”
“And what about the bruises? Did he ever ask about them?”
Suzie shook her head. “Bill didn’t hit me in the face often. And the one time he did, I stayed inside until the bruise faded, and then covered it with a little bit of makeup, like when I went to work.”
She remembered that. Bill hadn’t hit Suzie in the face until toward the end, when his abuse had escalated.
As it had been doing for the past three months. Since Bill had been released from prison. She had enough evidence to know that Bill Heber was hurting his wife. But so much of it was circumstantial...she needed something solid to get the man back behind bars. For good.
The one thing she wasn’t going to do was berate this poor woman. Scooting over, she took Suzie’s hand. Not a usual move for her—instigating any physical contact other than a handshake with any of her victims—but she did it. “I know you didn’t fall, Suzie.”
“Yes, I did.” The woman didn’t pull her hand away.
Emma found that significant. Wondered if Sara did, too.
“Please, Ms. Martin, just leave it alone.”
Leave it alone. The expression stunned her. Scared her, too. But words came to her.
“I’ll leave you alone if you promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Promise me that you’ll stay in touch with Sara. Whether group counseling, or just joining a craft group or something here at the Stand. You come here, at least twice a week, and you won’t hear from me again.”
Suzie held her gaze for a long moment, her lashes still wet from her recently shed tears. “I come here and you won’t try to see me again? Or get someone else to ask me questions?”
Suzie had told her everything she was going to. Or felt she could. Emma nodded.
“Okay.” The other woman smiled. When her face relaxed, Emma could see a hint of the beauty she must have been before worry and fear, grief and abuse, had misshaped her nose, and driven so many lines around her mouth and eyes.
“Okay.” With a quick goodbye to Sara, Emma left Suzie alone with the woman who could help her to heal.
She’d leave Suzie alone. No way she was walking away from the rest of it. She had a job to do.