Finding Sarah (29 page)

“I think so. But I want to take
her to the hospital.”

“You think it’s safe to move her?”

As if she heard, Sarah groaned.
Opened her eyes. A look of panic crossed her face.

“You’re safe,” Randy whispered. “Lie
still a minute.” He ran his hands down her arms and legs, checking for obvious
injuries. When he reached her left knee, she winced and pulled away. “I’m
sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He pulled out his radio and let
the team know they’d found Sarah, that he’d take her to the hospital in Bend.

“Guess we’re done here,” the dog
handler said. “C’mon girl.”

“Wait. I didn’t thank you
properly. I don’t even know your name.”

“Ingraham. Warren Ingraham. But
it’s Ginger who does the work. I just run along behind her.” He gave Randy an
easy smile and Ginger a friendly pat.

Randy fished his wallet out of
his pocket, removed a ten dollar bill.

“Hey, I don’t take tips.”

“It’s not for you. Buy Ginger a
steak. A big one.”

Ingraham grinned, whistled for
his dog and walked up the path. Randy turned back to Sarah. Her eyes were
closed again, but her breathing was deep and steady. He sat down beside her and
stroked her hair. When she flinched at his touch, he clenched his teeth until
his jaws ached.

Sarah listened to the nurse, the
doctor, and a counselor. She suffered their indignities as they poked, prodded
and plucked, tuning them out. All she wanted was to get home. Back to her
apartment, her shop, her life.

“The deputy needs your statement,
Ms. Tucker,” the counselor said. “I’ll be right here. Would you like the
gentleman who brought you to join us? He’s quite concerned.”

“No. Not him. Not yet.”

A woman wearing a brown sheriff’s
uniform came in carrying a notepad. Sarah heard her own voice answering the
questions, but it was as if someone else was speaking, and she wasn’t really
paying attention to the conversation. Finally, the woman gave her a nod and a
smile and left the room. Seconds later, Randy came in.

“Hey. They said you’re cleared to
leave.”

She nodded, adjusting the
drawstring of the scrubs they’d given her.

“You want to go home now? If you’re
not up for the trip, there’s a motel across the street.”

She could hear the strain in his
voice. Why couldn’t she look at him? Braving a peek at his face, she took in
the red-rimmed eyes, the shadows under them. His hair hung in tangles, as if he’d
been pulling on it. For the last two days, all she’d wanted was for Randy to
find her. Now he was here, and her stomach hurt more than her twisted knee. She
shook her head. “Home.”

The doctor, a young man with
tired eyes, spoke. “I’m going to write you some prescriptions—there’s a
pharmacy off the main lobby. An anti-inflammatory for the knee. Two a day for
two weeks and if it’s not better after that, see your own doctor. Ice it today,
then heat tomorrow. Take the pain meds if you need them. You’ll probably wake
up stiff and sore.” He stepped between her and Randy and waited until she met
his gaze. “Your physical injuries are minor. It might take longer to get over
the mental trauma. See a counselor, or a support group. Talk to someone. And I’m
giving you some Valium, too. There might be some nightmares.”

“I’m fine.” She lifted her chin. “Can
I go?”

“I’ll call for a wheelchair.
Regulations.”

Randy spoke up. “I can fill the
prescriptions while you’re waiting.” He shook the doctor’s hand. “Thanks.”

The doctor said something to
Randy too quiet for Sarah to hear. She saw Randy nod, heard him say, “I will,”
and then the doctor left the room.

Probably telling him to take care
of her. What did they think she was? Some wimp? She could take care of herself.
Or she would, once she got home.

“I’ll meet you out front. I’ll
get your meds and pull the pickup around. We’ll be home for dinner.”

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Sarah, I—” He stopped, then
extended his cell phone. “Why don’t you call your mother? She’s worried about
you.”

Sarah dropped the phone into her
lap and watched him trudge out the door, shoulders slumped as if he bore an
immense weight. Her eyes burned and she swiped at the tears that escaped.

* * * * *

“We’re home, Sarah.” She waited,
keeping her eyes closed until she remembered where she was. In Randy’s truck.
He was already at the passenger door, arm outstretched to help her out. Her
knee had stiffened on the drive and she leaned into Randy as they walked toward
the building. After ten slow paces, he simply scooped her up. Maggie was
waiting at the top of the stairs.

“Sarah, you poor dear. How are
you? I saw you coming. Here, let me unlock your door.” Maggie fluttered down
the hall and held the door open. Sarah closed her eyes.

“It’s nothing, Maggie. A twisted
knee. I don’t even need crutches. Randy’s playing white knight.” He tensed at her
words.

When he lowered her to the couch,
emotions overwhelmed her, and she had to fight for composure. Maggie was
already in the kitchen making tea, and Randy looked—well, she didn’t know
exactly what he looked like because she was afraid to look at him too closely.
Every time she did, she got knots in her stomach and felt like she needed to
hit something. She closed her eyes and tried to retreat into a safe place.

Aware Randy was speaking, Sarah tried
to focus on his words.

“I turned off the ringer on your
phone and set the answering machine to pick up calls on the first ring. The
police beat reporter will find Chris’ arrest report and let the dogs out. As a
matter of fact, it’s probably smart to avoid the press altogether. Tell them
you’re not allowed to discuss the case so that it won’t influence the trial. Be
firm.”

She met his gaze. A weight
settled on her shoulders. “I didn’t think of that. Thanks. I don’t think I
could face a reporter.”

“Don’t open your door either,
unless you know who it is. They can be persistent.”

“Right,” she murmured. No, it
wasn’t right. But she could handle a reporter or two. She was home, and she was
safe. “I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss it,” she practiced under her breath. When
the words came naturally, she found a weak smile for Randy. “Thanks for the
ride. You can go home.”

“You shouldn’t be alone tonight,”
he said. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

Maggie came in from the kitchen,
wiping her hands on a towel. “No. I’ll stay.”

Sarah bristled. “Be quiet, both
of you. It’s my apartment. I think I have a say in the matter. I’ve got some
scrapes, some bruises and a tender knee. I don’t need a nurse, a babysitter, or
a white knight. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone. Let me go back to
being Sarah.” She couldn’t tell them of all the images that had flooded through
her on the drive from Bend. There was still a curtain in her brain, but it was
transforming from thick velvet to filmy gauze.

She heard her voice crack and
hobbled to the bedroom, and if slamming the door was childish, so be it. It
felt good.

* * * * *

Randy sank into one of the chairs
and lowered his head in his hands. He took three deep breaths, counted to ten
and looked up at Maggie. He heard the sounds of a tub filling. “I guess she
told us.”

“What happened to her?”

“I don’t have the details. We
found her at Falcon Lake, out past Bend. Chris drugged her, she managed to get
away. Chris is in jail.”

“I think there’s more.”

“I know there is. But I don’t
know what it is. She’s shut me out. Won’t talk, barely looks at me. I’m going
to get a copy of the police report and see if she told the deputy what went on.”

“She’ll have to face it, you
know. But the mind will only accept so much, and then it blocks the memories.”

Randy stared into Maggie’s eyes. “That’s
what scares me. That whatever happened to her was bad enough for her to
withdraw like this.”

The kettle whistled and Maggie
went to the kitchen. She spoke as she worked. “I’m going to bunk on her couch
tonight, whether she likes it or not. No matter what happened, she’s going to
have to work through it. The Women’s Center has counselors, support sessions,
referrals to doctors. I’ll get her there.” She came back with two cups of tea. “Let
it steep a while. My guess is you could use a change from coffee.”

He smiled. “Yeah. Thanks.” He
balanced the cup on his leg. “Give her time, give her space. That’s the
training we get and that’s what the doctor said. I’ll give her as long as it
takes.”

“But it’s tough when you love
someone, isn’t it?”

Randy barely caught the teacup
before it splashed to the floor.

Maggie gave him a gentle smile. “Don’t
tell me you didn’t know you’re in love with her.”

Randy put the teacup on the
coffee table and rubbed his hands across his face. “I think I knew it the
moment I walked into her shop. But I’ve never admitted it. Not so simply.”

“It is simple, really. And I’m
sure she loves you, too. She needs to get over this little setback is all.”

He managed a grin. “Little
setback? You heard her. She wants nothing to do with me.”

“Right now, I don’t think she
wants anything to do with anyone with a penis.” She glared at his startled
reaction. “Oh, like you’ve never heard the word before.”

“No, I mean, yes, of course, but—”

“But nice little old ladies aren’t
supposed to say it? What should I say? Dick? Cock? I know. Y chromosome. Is
that proper enough for someone like me?”

“Maggie, if things don’t work out
with Sarah, are you available?”

“You go on.” Her blush was almost
as becoming as Sarah’s.

Exhaustion flooded him and he
stood to leave before it overwhelmed. “The doctor gave her some prescriptions.
If you can get her to take a Valium, I think she’ll sleep easy.”

“Don’t you worry about her. I can
handle Sarah.”

* * * * *

Randy arrived at the station,
ignoring the sidelong glances from other officers as he made his way down the
corridor to lockup. Chris, wearing an orange prison jumpsuit, lay on his back
on a narrow cot, arms folded behind his head. He stared at the ceiling, his
eyes void of any expression.

“He’s lawyered up,” the officer
on duty said. “Want me to call the guy?”

“No,” Randy said. “I wanted to
see the prisoner.”

Chris jumped up and moved to the
front of the cell. He leered at Randy, his eyes now wide open, whites showing
all around. “What are you doing here, you overgrown excuse for a cop?”

“Detweiler,” the guard said. “Are
you sure—?”

Randy shot the guard a look, one
he usually reserved for uncooperative suspects. “If Mr. Westmoreland wants to
talk without his lawyer present, that’s his business.”

The guard shook his head and
busied himself with paperwork.

“Oh, I want to talk to this guy,”
Chris said. “She’s mine, you know. You thought she loved you, but she loves me.
She married me. Sealed with a kiss.”

Randy heard the contempt in Chris’
voice and his stomach churned at the thought of Chris’ lips touching Sarah’s.
He clenched his fists and concentrated on the pain of his nails digging into
his palms. He forced himself to remain silent until his jaws throbbed.

You’re a lying, worthless piece
of shit. You’re lucky you’ve got those bars between us.

Randy yearned to grab the monster
by his neck and squeeze the life out of him.

Chris licked his lips. All Randy
could see was a snake.

“You should have seen her in that
wedding dress.” Chris sighed. “She was beautiful. And when I carried her across
the threshold and she was cold, it was me who warmed her, not you. I took off
her wedding gown. You know she has the most succulent—”

His control snapped in two, Randy
lunged toward Chris.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Kovak’s
voice registered, and several strong arms pulled him away. He looked into the
faces of his partner and the guard.

“Nothing,” Randy mumbled. “Chris
wanted to talk. I didn’t say a word, as I’m sure this officer can attest.” He
worked free of Kovak’s grasp and bolted down the hall.

Kovak followed, half a pace
behind, and shut their office door behind them. “We’ve got him, big guy. Don’t
blow it.”

Randy picked up his coffee mug
and threw it against the wall, watching the shards fall to the floor as if in
slow motion.

“Feel better?” Kovak said.

Randy sat for a moment. “No. Give
me the damn arrest report. Give me whatever damn paperwork you’ve got.”

Kovak handed Randy a thick folder.
“He muttered something about being married, about how everything would be right
now, and then he lawyered up.”

“I didn’t ask him any questions,
you know. He volunteered everything he said.”

“What’s really the problem? She’s
all right, isn’t she?”

Damn, could everyone on the
planet read him now? “Something happened. She’s not talking.” He tunneled his
fingers through his hair. “I should have known better. People, things I care
about get hurt and I’m always too late. Easier not to care.”

“Easy to say. But losing the lows
mean you lose the highs, too. Give it time.”

“Maybe. For now, I want to read
this report. Alone.”

“Understood.” Kovak slipped out
the door and eased it shut behind him.

Randy worked through the pages,
feeling more and more frustrated. Evidence collected—videotape, torn and dirty
wedding dress, bottle of ether, champagne bottle with traces of blood. Whose
blood? Bed sheets, partially empty box of condoms. Randy rubbed his eyes.
Wastebasket had crumpled tissues, two disposable razors, seven Big Red gum
wrappers and two toothbrush packages. But no used condoms. That told him
absolutely nothing. Chris could have used one and flushed it. But why would he
bother using one at all? The prick believed he was married.

Could Sarah be pregnant?

His stomach roiled. He slammed
the folder against the table. The evidence wasn’t talking.