Jack sat in the hallway of St. Joseph’s Hospital. The EMTs had taken Mia there instead of Grady—a good forty minutes away in downtown traffic—and for that Jack was grateful. She had slept in his arms as they waited for the cops and the ambulance to come.
By the time Jack had driven to the hospital and settled himself in the waiting room, Keith had been apprehended and taken into custody. A patrol car had gone to collect Jess. A newbie detective sat with Jack now, his notepad in his hand.
Jack knew he probably looked like a basket case. This kid was probably thinking, no way this guy was ever a functioning law enforcement officer.
The fifteen minutes he’d had alone with Mia, even though she didn’t regain consciousness again, had given him some succor. While he assumed she’d been raped, probably repeatedly, he was reassured to see that except for the welts and bruises, he could see no major injuries. Of course, Jack knew better than anyone how much worse mental and emotional damage could be…
“Detective Burton?”
Both Jack and the detective stood up as the doctor came into the waiting room. He was wearing scrubs and although it was only seven in the evening, he looked like he’d been up all night and all the previous day too.
“Is the mother here yet?”
“Not yet,” Jack said. “How is she?”
The physician hesitated only a moment. “She’s been drugged and beaten,” he said bluntly.
Burton swallowed hard. It was all he could do not to smash his fist into the vending machine in the waiting room.
How long had that bastard had her? Three hours? Four?
His reaction must have unnerved the doctor because he took a step backward and turned to address the young detective. “The rape exam was negative,” he said.
Burton reached out a hand and grabbed the doctor by the shoulder. “She wasn’t raped?”
The doctor looked uneasily at the young detective before responding to Burton. “We probably should wait for Miss Kazmaroff’s mother to get here. But no, there’s no sign of penetration.”
Jack slumped to a sitting position on the couch, then he looked up. “What about her mind? She didn’t act like she remembered anything that happened.”
“She doesn’t. We ordered a tox screen and we’re looking for a few specific things.” He looked at the detective. “It would be helpful to know what it was the man gave her.”
“He’s not talking,” the young detective said. “Not yet.”
Burton narrowed his eyes at the young man. “Is he denying it?”
“I’m not at liberty to reveal the facts of an ongoing investigation,” he said, and then, relenting, he said, “There were certain incriminating photographs found on his cellphone. The time stamp matches the time of the assault. The DA feels confident he’ll start talking in order to work out a deal.”
The doctor nodded. “Well, as soon as you find out what he gave her, the better. You can see her, Detective Burton,” he said, “as long as you realize she’s still very groggy.”
“Is she…her pain…?”
“She’s comfortable now.”
Burton hurried behind the doctor to Mia’s room. He glanced at the crucifix on the wall by her bed. She looked small against the starched white sheets, her dark hair spread against the pillow. He picked up her hand and she opened her eyes.
And smiled.
“Hey, you,” he said softly. “How you feeling?”
“Feeling no pain,” she said in a whisper.
The bruises on her face and neck were stark against the paleness of her skin and Jack’s stomach flipped slowly at the thought of how they were made.
“What happened to me?”
Her eyes closed and she licked her lips. He reached for the water next to the bed and held the straw to her mouth.
“You went to meet Keith Barnes,” he said, wondering if now was a good time for this.
Suddenly, the door opened with a faint rush of perfume as Jess came into the room. Her first touch was to Jack’s shoulder as if to comfort him and then she was between him and Mia, her hand slipping into her daughter’s. The moment she touched her, Jess’s shoulders began to shake. At first Jack didn’t know what was happening but as Jess bowed her head and a long keening moan came from her, he realized, she’s seeing what happened!
“Jess?” He put a hand on her shoulder. “Mia’s good now. Everything is fine. We got him and he can’t hurt her anymore. Don’t do this to yourself.”
Jess touched Mia’s forehead and smoothed away a long tendril of hair. “My poor baby,” she said, her voice choked with the effort to hold back her tears.
“Mom?” Mia said, her eyes were still closed. “Tell Jack…I’m sure it…was Trish that…killed Dave.”
“Hush, now, darling,” Jess said. “You need to sleep.”
“Or maybe…Diane,” Mia said, turning her face away as she fell asleep.
Burton stood behind Jess, his hands on her shoulders, ready to pull her away if she started to break down again. Jess leaned over and kissed Mia’s bruised face and turned to him and squeezed his hand.
They walked into the hall.
“Can you stay a bit?” she asked.
“All night.”
“They’re bringing in a cot for me.”
“I’ll be fine in the waiting room.”
“So they caught the man who did this to her?”
“They did.”
Jess moved into the waiting room and sat down. “I don’t like to leave Daisy alone all night.”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. My guess is they’ll release Mia in the morning.”
“I think she should come home with me.”
“I agree.”
Jess leaned over and took Jack’s hand. He hesitated, knowing she had the same gift Mia did and when he hesitated he realized that for the first time, he believed in the gift.
“You’re probably going to pick up on a lot of anger,” he said, trying to smile. “I’m presently wanting to put my fist through a wall.”
“I see that,” Jess said. “You’ve become very attached to Mia.”
“I love her.” Jack pulled his hand away. He had not meant to say that.
“I see that too,” Jess said. “They wouldn’t tell me who the man was, but Mia knew him, didn’t she?”
“It was Keith Barnes. Dave’s best friend.”
“I assume he was suffering some kind of psychotic episode or something?”
He let out a long breath. “The good news is the doc says she wasn’t raped.”
Jess nodded. “There was so much horror when I touched her, I couldn’t tell whether she had been hurt in that way or not.” She looked at him. “It’s because you got to her in time.”
Burton shook his head.
If you call being whipped, shocked and humiliated for three hours “in time,” then yeah, I did.
“Do not berate yourself for this, Jack. You saved her and that’s all there is to it.”
“Mind reader too, Jess?”
“It’s a side interest,” she said with a smile. “I see they’re setting up my cot in her room. I think I’ll go in now and be with her. Why don’t you go down to the cafeteria and grab some supper?”
“Can I bring you back something?”
She smiled and gave his hand one last squeeze before turning away toward Mia’s hospital room. “Just yourself,” she said.
For the next three days, Mia was content to sleep on her mother’s sofa, snuggle with Daisy and watch old movies on Netflix. Her mother hovered a good bit but Mia assumed that was probably normal behavior for someone who’d nearly lost their loved one to a psycho sexual sadist. As she wrapped the afghan around her knees she was amazed that the words brought no emotional response from her. It was almost as if it had happened to someone else.
Hell, it might as well have. Except for the discomfort of the burns and bruises over much of her body—all of which were healing now—she had no memory of that afternoon in the warehouse with Keith. It was like it had never happened.
If there was someone besides her mother who definitely acted like something terrible had happened, it was Jack. It was difficult to imagine what it was he’d seen when he rescued her. During the questioning with the detectives, she was able to give very little information as to what happened, but she’d been informed of the condition in which she’d been found.
So much for any sexual mystery now, Mia thought, wincing as she repositioned herself. If she’d ever had a hope that Jack might see her as something besides Dave’s pain in the ass, controlling, whacked out sister, finding her filthy and chained to a pulley in a warehouse probably put the permanent kibosh on that.
During these last three days Jack had been his usual manic, obsessively protective self. While he hadn’t actually moved in to Jess’s, he was over so much it was almost like he had. The fireplace was always blazing with wood that Jack had chopped and dragged to the mudroom off the kitchen. Sometimes he slept over and sometimes she knew he slept in his car—or didn’t sleep, more likely—up the street, keeping an eye on them.
He was always so evasive about who, exactly, he thought might be out to hurt her and Jess.
That’s because he knows Dave’s killer is still on the loose.
Three days was long enough not to climb out of your yoga pants even to take the dog for a walk—something neither her mother or Jack had yet allowed her to do.
Jess came into the room, drying a dish in her hands. “You all right, darling?” she asked for the tenth time that morning.
“I’m thinking about getting dressed today,” Mia said, flinging the afghan off her legs.
“Is that wise? It’s very cold outside. Have you asked Jack if he’ll have Thanksgiving dinner with us?”
“Why don’t you ask him? I’m sure he doesn’t have anything better to do.”
Their first Thanksgiving without Dave.
“Why, Mia! What a thing to say!”
“I didn’t mean it that way,” she said, although she wasn’t really sure how she meant it. Between Diane and Karen, she figured Jack was well taken care of for Thanksgiving or any other kind of stuffing he had in mind.
“I’m taking a shower,” she said as she left the room.
An hour later, Jack pulled into Jess’s driveway, a bag of groceries in the front seat beside him. He’d just gotten off the phone with Karen who’d told him that Barnes would be arraigned on separate charges of kidnapping and attempted murder. Because Mia remembered nothing of the experience, she couldn’t testify but the photos on Barnes’ phone, the presence of his truck at the scene of the crime, and the fact that Jack would testify that he saw Barnes flee the scene, was enough.
Barnes would work out a deal of some kind, Jack had no doubt, but he’d still go to prison. The worrisome thing in all this, as far as Jack was concerned, was that Barnes insisted he had never sent anyone to attack or “warn off” Mia.
Well, if it wasn’t Barnes, then who was it?
He was surprised to see Mia come to the front door. Even from this distance, the bruises were evident on her face. She’d lost weight too, although her bulky outfit of double sweaters, jacket and jeans made it impossible to notice at the moment. He hoisted the bag of groceries in his arms and walked to the front door to meet her.
“Up and about I see,” he said.
“Thought I’d check out what was going on in the land of the living.” She smiled and he felt an intense longing to drop the groceries in the bushes and pull her into his arms. She was so beautiful, her lips were deep pink against her pale skin and her eyes fringed with dark lashes, even without a speck of makeup, were seductive.
“Want to take a ride later?” he asked.
“That would be awesome. I’ve totally got cabin fever. Where can we go?”
“Lady’s choice,” he said, moving past her into the house.
Jess was pulling on her coat and gloves. “Oh, good, you’re back,” she said. “I’m going to pop up the road for afternoon mass. Anybody interested in coming with me?”
“I’m good,” Jack said, setting the groceries on the counter and pulling cans out of the bag.
“Me too,” Mia said. “You go and pray for all of us, Mom.” She gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and joined Jack in the kitchen.
“Alright then,” Jess said, digging for her car keys in her purse, “if you’re sure. Oh, no, little muffin, you can’t come!”
“Come on, Daisy!” Burton called from the kitchen, “I got your favorite brand of horse meat and by products.” He heard the front door close and began spooning out dog food into a bowl.
“I’d like to go see Trish,” Mia said as she came into the kitchen.
“What for?”
“You know what for.”
Burton turned to look at her. “You want to get your hands on her.”
“I do. I’m not as convinced as you seem to be that she had nothing to do with Dave’s death. She’d have every reason to hate him if she thought he was the one who led Keith astray.”
“Astray?”
“You know what I mean. It was the two of them in the sex tape—”
“Mia, Keith regularly whaled away on Trish. He put her in the hospital just this week. There is no way she would give a crap what he was doing with Dave.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, Jack. I know it doesn’t make sense but just because he hit her doesn’t mean she didn’t love him.”
“Okay, this is all nonsense.” He turned away and pulled another bowl out of a cabinet as if to end the conversation.
“Every time I try to talk to you about doing something I want to do to further this investigation, you shut me down. Have you noticed that?” She tugged at his sleeve to get his attention, her fury shooting a long blush up her neck to her face. “I’m sick of you pushing aside my ideas so we can sit and do nothing!”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Mia, we are sitting as you put it so you can recover from the last great idea you had about ‘moving the investigation forward.’”
“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re pissed because I inconvenienced you. I didn’t do what you told me to do and so you had to break a few dates to sit by my mother’s side in the hospital.”
“I don’t know what it means that half the time I’m with you I want to throttle you but yeah, if you’d’ve stayed put like I told you to, it would’ve saved everyone a lot of pain, not the least of which was yours.”
“I’m going out, Jack, and I don’t need to get permission from you to do it. That’s the end of that. I have a direction I’m going and you are not going to stand in the way of my going there—”
He threw a dish into the sink where it shattered, throwing shards across the counter, and then turned on her, his face red with his attempt to control himself.
“Those bruises that make you wince every time you sit? Keith gave you those. That scrape down your side that bugs you every time you pull on a shirt? That’s from a cattle prod that was held against your bare skin.”
“Stop it, Jack!” She turned to leave the kitchen but he reached out and grabbed her hands. “The skin rubbed off right here? That’s where the cuffs held you as you hung by your hands.” When she tried to pull away, he grabbed her shoulders, hating the look of pain on her face when he did. “And did I mention you were totally naked at the time? Not a piece of fabric between you and his filthy, disgusting hands.”
“The…cops said I wasn’t…he didn’t…” She was crying now but he couldn’t stop.
“No, he didn’t because I got there before he could. But trust me, he did everything else.”
“I can’t remember any of it,” she said, her tears splashing down her face.
“Thank God for that. But I remember.” He looked into her eyes with a fevered ferocity he never remembered feeling before. Describing it to her forced him to relive it. He noticed his hands still gripped her, and he released her but she didn’t move away. She took the step that closed the gap between them and he folded her into his arms as he’d been longing to do since the night he’d turned her away. He held her gently, trying not to press on her bruises, but she tightened her embrace.
“Hold me like you mean it,” she whispered.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Too late for that.” She pulled back to look at his face and then raised up on her toes and kissed him. Without realizing he was doing it, he brought her up close and hungrily probed her mouth with his tongue. The need to be with her, to own her, was so strong it was all he could do to stop, not to throw her down on the couch and make her his.
The image of what he wanted to do clashed painfully with the image of the bruises and welts that covered her body and he forced himself to push away and hold her at arms length.
“You’re killing me, Mia,” he said hoarsely. “Just totally killing me.” He let go of her and rubbed his hands against his jeans as if trying to keep them busy doing something else, anything else.
*****
An hour later, Mia sat on the couch again, the dog in her lap, the television on. Jess was in the kitchen baking as usual. Jack was tromping the perimeter of the yard looking for clues to a crime that wouldn’t be committed.
Keith was locked up. Nobody was coming after her. But she knew that relentlessly checking the boundaries of her mother’s yard made Jack feel like he was doing something.
She leaned over to pick up her cooling cup of tea from the coffee table and a stitch of pain shot through the muscle in her arm. The ache in her arms had been the worst. She’d been living on ibuprofen since she got home from the hospital because of the damage done to her subscapularis muscles from hanging by her hands.
It felt surreal to her that Jack had experienced her ordeal more than she had. She didn’t even have an image or a dream to bring it to mind. Not that she wanted to remember torture, but it was discomfiting to have endured it, survived it, and not remember it.
She nestled back into the pillows on the couch and turned to look at the fire in the hearth, snapping and popping with the seasoned wood. And then there was the kiss. Today’s incident in the kitchen, not just the kiss but his explosion, showed her without a doubt what she should already have known.
He loved her. And even if he never says the words, I know that’s true.
She looked at the little dog watching her with worried eyes. Unless. He just picks up wounded strays and that’s his thing. She frowned and put her hand on the dog’s head.
That would really suck if all this is just his pathology and has nothing really to do with me.
“Hungry, Mia?” her mother called to her from the kitchen.
Mia sighed. Why is it that eating always makes your caretakers feel better than it does you?
“Yeah, starving,” she said, picking up the remote control again and wondering why she no longer felt her father any more when she did.