„No. No. No.“ Abe scowled, but not at the thought of looking at Kristen’s face across his mother’s table. That would be no hardship at all. His scowl was for the withering look of disdain she’d give him when she rejected his invitation. „Did I say no?“
Rachel’s face fell. „Well, ask her about the interview. I’d get an A for sure.“
„I’ll ask.“
„I think it’s way past time you were in bed, sweetie,“ Becca said and Rachel frowned, but obeyed, first lifting on her tiptoes to kiss Abe’s cheek.
„I’m glad you came,“ she whispered. „Even if you can’t get me an interview.“
He kissed her forehead. She was a good kid, all in all. „Me too, squirt. Now go to bed. You’re going to fall asleep in school tomorrow.“
His mother slipped her arm around his waist as Rachel’s door closed. „She was so excited to hear you knew Miss Mayhew. I told her to wait to ask you, but you know how she is. The bed in your old room is made up, Abe. If you want to sleep here, I’ll make you waffles for breakfast From scratch, not those disgusting frozen things.“
„You never make me waffles from scratch,“ Kyle complained from the kitchen.
„You don’t need waffles from scratch,“ his mother shot back. „You’re on a diet.“
Abe had to grin at his father’s muffled muttering. „No, Mom, I need to be in the office early tomorrow. I just wanted to see you tonight.“
With a sigh she walked him to the door. „You’re still coming over on Sunday?“
„Unless something really important comes up on this case, I’ll be here.“
Friday, February 20,
1:00 a.m.
„Why?“
It was an agonized cry, and no less than the bastard deserved. He spared a cool glance. „Renee Dexter.“
Skinner twisted his head to follow him as he gathered his tools, eyes widening in terror. „Who?“
He stopped. Turned his full attention on Skinner’s pathetic form, still strapped down. His bleeding had slowed, his Armani suit was soaked. It would be the most expensive clothing he’d packed into a crate up until now. Skinner hovered on the brink of consciousness, holding on with an effort. „You truly don’t remember her, do you?“
„No. Dammit. Where… am I?“ Skinner gasped. „Who are you?“
He turned away, ignoring Skinner’s line of questioning. „Renee Dexter was a college student, driving home from her part-time job at the campus library.“ He opened a drawer, studied its contents. „She had car trouble, and no cell phone to call for help.“ He made his choice and held it up for Skinner to see before placing it on the table next to him, gratified when Skinner’s eyes went glassy with fear. „Do you remember her yet?“
„Oh, God,“ Skinner moaned, twisting, trying to escape. „You’re insane. Insane.“
He considered it. „Perhaps. God will be the judge of that, I suppose.“ He rolled a cart holding a vise across the room, positioning it at Skinner’s head. Adjusted the grips of the vise on either side of Skinner’s skull and twisted the knobs. Skinner moaned.
„Renee Dexter was terrified.“ His voice hardened. „Nineteen years old and terrified. A car stopped and two clean-cut young men got out and she drew an easier breath. She’d been afraid of thugs, of criminals, but fate had been kind and sent two nice young men her way.“ He twisted the knobs once more and Skinner began to sob. „Unfortunately, they were not nice young men, Mr. Skinner. When the police found Renee Dexter the next morning, she was weaving through traffic on foot, her clothes torn. They thought she was drunk, but she wasn’t. Is your memory improving now, Mr. Skinner?“
„Why?“ Skinner sobbed. „Why are you doing this to me?“
His lips twisted grimly. „Ironic. Renee said the very same thing to the two young men as they held her down all night, raping her by turns. She said they laughed and said ‘Because we can.’ The police were able to catch the two men using descriptions Renee gave them from her hospital bed and the State’s Attorney’s Office filed charges.“ He lifted his tool of choice, twisting it in the overhead light, watching it shine. „That’s where you came in, Mr. Skinner.“ He chuckled dryly as Skinner’s eyes flickered in recognition. „I see you remember now.“
„You… weren’t there.“
„Are you sure, Mr. Skinner? Are you very sure about that? You sat at the same table with those two animals.“ His voice shook with anger. „And when Renee came to the stand, you decimated her, assaulting her a second time. Not with your fists or your…“ He waved a hand toward Skinner’s lower regions. „But you assaulted her the same. She was a party girl. The boys had met her the weekend before. Not true. She’d agreed to meet them. Not true. A drug test showed she’d smoked some marijuana sometime in the previous two weeks, confirming what kind of girl she was. So you said she’d asked for it, allowed them to do it. Then accused them falsely.“ He leaned close, his body vibrating with fury. „Do you remember now, Mr. Skinner?“
„Answer the question, Mr. Skinner. Yes or no?“
Skinner moaned. „Oh, God.“
He straightened. „Not so comfortable now, Mr. Skinner? I’ve contemplated this, long and hard. Those animals went free because you painted Renee Dexter as a girl with loose morals. When she tried to defend herself you tripped her up again and again until she finally had no voice at all.“ He was calm again, and ready to do what needed to be done. „Now you’ll learn what it is like to have no voice, Mr. Skinner.“
Friday, February 20,
3:45 A.M.
Zoe ripped the sheet away from his sleeping form. „Up you go.“ She shook his shoulder impatiently. „Rise and shine, big boy. Time to go home.“
He rolled over onto his back and blinked up at her. „What time is it?“
„Almost four. Your wife’s alarm will be going off in less than two and a half hours.“
His eyes flew open at that. „Shit.“ He rolled out of bed and grabbed his boxer shorts. „Why the hell did you let me go to sleep?“
Zoe looked away, under the pretense of gathering the items that had fallen from his pockets until she managed to control the gleam in her eye. She turned back, her hands filled with his belongings. „Because I fell asleep, too.“ She smiled, alluringly. „You tired me out.“
He looked up from tucking in his shirttail into his pants, a smug grin on his face. He’d earned it, so she let him be self-satisfied for now. „You were fucking amazing.“
She brushed her lips against his. „Hmm. I know. But it’s time to go home.“
„I’m going. You want to meet me tonight?“
Not if I can help it, she thought, but smiled nevertheless. „I’d love to.“ If she had her way, by sunset she’d be ass-deep into what was becoming a more interesting case with every new tidbit she learned.
Grabbing her chin between his fingers, he placed a hard kiss on her lips. „I’ll call you.“
She walked him to the door. „You do that.“ Then she closed the door behind him and, sliding the deadbolt into place, let the Cheshire cat grin take over her face.
She wondered if he knew he talked in his sleep. She suspected his wife did.
She grabbed the phone. „Scott… Of course I know what time it is. Meet me at the station in an hour. We’re going to have a very busy day.“
Chapter Nine
Friday, February 20,
8:30 A.M.
„You don’t look so good, sugar.“
Kristen looked up from the pile of papers on her desk, bleary-eyed. John’s secretary stood in the doorway of her office, her lower Up pushed out in a worried pout, a stack of folders in her arms.
„Thank you so much, Lois.“ She eyed the folders bale-fully. „Don’t say those are for me.“