Rue could tell that Joanna was just as perplexed by the request, or rather wondering what difference a few hours would make. She connected the dots the moment Alexandra said, “I haven’t decided anything in many months. Can we wait until tonight?”
“Yes. Sure, we can.”
* * * *
There was a time when Joanna hadn’t felt torn between the questionable sense of duty, and the longing to leave it all behind. Leaving Alexandra alone at the house worried her, but there was no way she’d let Rue go to therapy by herself. The next best solution was to take Alexandra, and wait with her in the car until after Rue was done.
This was their vacation—they had nothing else to do, right?
Joanna still didn’t know how she could be so sure, but Vanessa had indeed insisted that the island’s police force was trustworthy. Vanessa’s word was good enough. It had to be.
Her warnings rang in Joanna’s head as well. She wasn’t on track to do something stupid. The police would protect Alexandra if need be, find resources for her. They would find the other man. End of story.
She turned to Alexandra, a bit startled when she realized the young woman was wearing Rue’s clothes. Her mind had been on so many other things earlier, she hadn’t even noticed.
Her gaze followed Alexandra’s as she watched a family with two children, all of them holding ice cream cones. The longing in Alexandra’s gaze was unmistakable.
“You’d like some ice cream? We have about half an hour left. There’s a stand across the street.”
“I’ve been eating enough of your food,” Alexandra said, her tone wistful.
“Come on. What flavor?”
“You choose. Thank you.”
Joanna crossed the street in brisk steps. There was a short line at the ice cream stand, but she could see Alexandra from her point of view. Only a few other cars sat in the parking lot of the therapist’s building, mostly doctors and patients.
When it was her turn, she ordered for Alexandra and herself, and handed the man on the truck a handful of change. Joanna turned around to see the car door open. The vehicle was empty.
“There you go,” she said, handing the cones to the kids behind her, before she sprinted to the other side of the street. Alexandra was gone.
* * * *
Had she run because she wasn’t ready to talk to the police? Joanna looked around herself, then back into the car, finding nothing that could have given her any clues as to Alexandra’s whereabouts.
She entered the lobby, heading straight to a couple sitting across from the doorway.
“Have you seen a young woman come in, blonde, early twenties?” At least she still conveyed some authority. They both looked up from their cell phones, shaking their heads. Predictable. Joanna headed for the public toilets, startling a woman standing at the mirror as she barged in, checking every stall.
“Alexandra, if you’re in there, please, let’s talk about this.”
In the mirror, she could see the woman giving her a strange look.
“Did you see someone come in? A young woman, about 5’7, blonde hair?”
“No,” was the only reaction.
Back in the lobby, she found all elevators running, so she turned and took the stairs up to Dr. Shepherd’s office. She jogged the last few steps, almost running into one of the doctors. Shepherd’s office was at the end of the corridor, and as she came closer, she could hear disconcerting sounds, then a grunt.
Joanna attempted to kick the door, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, putting her whole weight into the move this time, suppressing a yelp when her shoulder made contact with the unyielding wood. She did it again, not stopping until the door fell open and she nearly stumbled into the room.
Her jaw dropped when she saw Rue standing over the man, Dr. Sheppard a few steps away holding a statue that looked massive.
Alexandra was nowhere to be seen.
“I see you don’t really need me here,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. She noticed Rue giving her a concerned look.
“Are you okay?” Rue asked.
“No. I don’t think I am.”
Chapter Nine
Rue felt strangely exhilarated at being able to put her newly learned skills to use. Every once in a while she came to realize that the situation could have gone many different ways, none of them good for her, or Alexandra, or Dr. Shepherd.
But between her skills and the massive statue she had often admired on the shelf, Persephone who had returned from the underworld, they managed to control the situation.
The man didn’t know what hit him.
She hadn’t frozen this time.
Having to talk to the police once more stifled her enthusiasm, reminding her of what didn’t go right. Alexandra.
“We don’t have to mention Alexandra,” Joanna whispered to her as if reading her mind.
Rue shook her head. “We don’t have to say that she spent the night, but we have to tell them she was here. She told the guy how to find me. Under duress, I’m sure, but the result’s the same. Believe me, it’s safer for everyone if the police can locate her, and she answers their questions.”
“I should have never taken my eyes off her. Damn it.”
“It’s not your fault.”
She could tell Joanna wasn’t convinced, but held back a response when the woman detective they’d met the other day came inside to greet them.
“I want to say, good to see you again, but I’m not sure the circumstances warrant that. I’m glad you’re okay.”
“We are. But I’m wondering how you couldn’t know this man was still on the island.” Ouch. She probably shouldn’t have said that, judging from the detective’s gaze, somewhere in between surprised and offended. The adrenaline was wearing off, and she felt herself starting to tremble.
Some things didn’t add up. Alexandra had obviously been afraid, but there might be some things she hadn’t told them.
Not that Rue could blame her. She and Joanna had kept secrets between them, some of them from the police.
“We’re glad we could apprehend him now. What happened here?”
“He came barging in, with Alexandra in tow.”
“Did he have a weapon?”
“Not that I know,” Rue said. “Alexandra had a gun. He told her to, to shoot Dr. Shepherd, and me.” She swallowed hard. The euphoria had been short-lived. “She was crying, didn’t want to do it. He said, you did it before—with a gendered slur I don’t want to repeat.”
“All right.” The detective’s voice and gaze had softened.
“He was probably lying, or if he wasn’t, they forced her,” Joanna added. Rue had thought the same.
“Yes, I’m aware. What did you do?”
“I wish I could be clear about this, but at some point…My body just moved. I was fairly sure Alexandra didn’t want to shoot anyone, but the longer she hesitated, the more likely it was he’d take the gun and do it himself. I just reacted. Turns out that worked.”
Joanna looked like she was going to faint. She might be in pain from her encounter with that door, or still absorbing what had happened in the span of minutes.
“Well, thank you for this. Now that we have the two of them, plus the evidence in Mr. Farrell’s murder, you made our jobs a lot easier.”
“Happy to help. Can we go home now?”
“Just a minute,” she said, closing the door of the office they were standing in. “I mean it, we’re grateful for your help. And I want you to be careful.”
“What it is you’re saying?” Joanna’s eyes narrowed. “Is this a threat?”
Rue held her breath. It wouldn’t be fair, after everything they’d been through, to find out that Vanessa had been wrong.
“Far from it. Inspector Young instructed me to tread carefully with your information, and I can assure you we have to the best of our abilities. So we ask you to do the same and lay low in case press is trying to contact you. And in general. That’s all.”
�
�Thank you, Detective.”
A few minutes later, they sat in the car, the magnitude of recent events still catching up to them.
“All those lessons with Zach paid off,” Joanna said eventually. “I can’t even begin to imagine…” She pulled Rue into an embrace, but it was Rue who felt the warm wetness of tears against her neck.
“He said to channel my anger. I haven’t always done it so well, but I guess…I did okay.” Joanna held her tighter in answer.
“More than okay.”
“You don’t have to do all of it.”
Joanna kissed her softly before she straightened and took a deep breath.
“I think we should go home,” she said.
* * * *
“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that extra day off.” Denise looked believably sorry. “With all that press, we got more bookings in advance than ever before. People are freaking morbid. I really need you two.”
“What can you offer in return?” Joanna asked lazily. They had retreated to the inn’s restaurant for dinner, and a few cocktails were doing wonders to take the edge off this day. As long as she didn’t dig too deep. What would that do for Rue’s therapy, to have her and the therapist threatened in what was supposed to be a safe space? Would Rue be able to find comfort in the fact that she’d been able to defend that space? Had the man taken Alexandra from the car, or had she lied to them, and met with him for some reason? The police had found Tamara locked in a dingy apartment, hungry and dehydrated.
Once again, she pushed the questions away.
“Well, if you want, stay here overnight. A nice room with a view, a private Jacuzzi…”
“That sounds…Tempting. Why?”
Denise gaze was haunted. “All of those bookings, because a crime happened here. It’s freaking me out. You did a lot more than your share, so…Consider it me showing my appreciation. I hope that we can all go back to normal.”
No one needed to say it out loud how much Joanna and Rue shared that hope. She wished that Alexandra and Tamara would be able to find some peace too.
* * * *
Mixing pain meds with alcohol probably wasn’t the best idea, but how much more bad could happen? Dangerous question, Joanna through as she lay in the king size bed, aware of the faint throbbing in her shoulder. Endorphins, cocktails and the meds had done the trick and dulled it down to a bearable level.
She watched Rue coming out of the bathroom, her gaze trailing over Joanna’s naked body. Not a lot had happened since they’d retreated to the suite, the two of them too tired to do anything but lie in each others’ arms under the fan.
Looking at Rue now, she felt an urgency, the weight of recent emotions crashing down on her.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
Rue took off her robe, climbed onto the bed and lay next to her. “That’s just the alcohol talking. You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“I almost sent you away.”
“For my protection. Granted, it was a bad idea, but you came to that conclusion already. I think you realized you have some use for me.”
“That was silly. I don’t know that I could be without you. I don’t even know who I am without you anymore.”
“Smooth. How could anyone top that?”
Joanna had an idea how she could take it even one step further, but if she did it now, Rue would think a close call and alcohol had fueled her thinking. No, the time wasn’t yet right for that. Perhaps something else, something easier, now that they’d gotten a bit of rest, and couldn’t sleep anyway.
“I like you on top,” she said, not sorry or embarrassed that her voice revealed raw desire and need. She’d been in the cold for so long, and Joanna was aware that much of it had been her own doing. No more. Whatever happened, Rue kept her in the sunlight.
Rue didn’t need any more prompting.
* * * *
“You did great,” Zach told her, and Rue beamed under the praise. “Now don’t get cocky.”
“What? I took out a guy a lot bigger than me. I have reason to be cocky.”
“There’s never a reason for that. Be proud. Move on. You still have a lot of work to do.”
Rue barely kept herself from pouting. It was the last thing she wanted to hear—that the work was never done. That the nightmares might never go away completely, that a flashback could attack her without warning. No matter how much bliss she found in her life with Joanna, there would always be the work. Because there would always be violent, ignorant assholes.
“See, that’s what I mean,” Zach told her, satisfied, when she near collapsed by the end of her workout—but was still standing. “Now be proud. Next time will be better.”
“I hate you,” she gasped.
“I know, but that’s okay. Have a great day, Rue.”
“You too.”
After a quick shower, Rue returned to the office for the first day after her vacation. The time hadn’t been as restful as she might have hoped, but she didn’t hate coming here either.
Working closely with Denise, she often marveled at having a work environment that she’d thought of as unattainable for most of her career. Denise didn’t pay as much as Lawrence Mitchell, Joanna’s father, had. In exchange, Rue didn’t have to tap dance around her and hide part of who she was. He hadn’t fired her when she’d told him about her relationship with Joanna that had outed her at the same time, but he had revealed a side of him that was worse than what she already knew. Smiling and ignoring it was no longer an option. Rue focused on the numbers in front of her. Numbers, math, distance from the emotions that inevitably came with going back to that week were her saving grace.
“It’s so good to have you back.” Denise sighed at her overflowing email inbox. “Let’s hope that none of the people that booked us for the next few months are criminals.”
“Let’s hope,” Rue agreed.
Chapter Ten
Even though people made that assumption from time to time, Joanna hadn’t been especially handy in her younger years. Many of the skills that secured a roof over her head these days came from her time in prison, when she’d gone to classes purely to stop the thoughts in her head. She had learned enough to assess what she could do, and when she had to call in electricians and other contractors.
She hadn’t always shown the same judgment when it came to getting involved with police work long after she had to turn in her shield—but that was over now, wasn’t it?
Lay low, let the experts do their job. She could do that, especially when she was still black and blue on one side due to that damn door. Rue had handled things on the other side of it just fine.
She was done fixing the bathroom tile of the empty room that would soon be booked. As she walked outside, her gaze on the view of the green around them, the ocean in the distance, Joanna truly understood what she’d gained, and almost lost again.
She wasn’t sorry for helping the women best she could.
She was starting to realize that she was allowed to take care of herself too.
* * * *
Lawrence Mitchell frowned at the taste of his coffee, and sighed to no one in particular. He missed Rue, not that he’d ever admit it out loud to anyone. He was on the third assistant since she’d been gone. The first to replace her was a young man, then a woman, now a recent graduate named Bill Meyers held the job. All from great schools, none of them showing great promise. Rue had been the perfect assistant in his opinion. She kept things running without bothering him every five minutes, had a sixth sense for when he didn’t want to take any calls or visitors, and she knew how to make his coffee.
Too bad he’d been so wrong about her, and it took him so long to realize that not only she supported Joanna’s problem, she shared it. It was for the better, her gone, and Joanna too. When the police had come to talk to him, he lied about when he’d last seen his daughter. He was all for her enjoying her life, as long as it was out of his sight, and without his money. Her being locked up again would only mean bad
press for the company.
Uttering a swear word he’d deny ever using, he got up to make his own coffee.
That was Joanna’s fault too.
* * * *
Lucky didn’t even begin to describe it. Even on a work night, they could go down to the beach and have dinner nearby, in time to watch the sun set.
“Do you still miss your old life?” Rue asked.
“Which one?” It wasn’t even a joke. The longer they stayed here, the clearer things had become to Joanna. Part of her would always be the same. And then there were parts she was happy to leave behind, but she guessed it wasn’t what was on Rue’s mind. “The answer is no. Whatever I might have been able to have before, I couldn’t have this. I am grateful for what Vanessa, and probably Theo, did for us. I can’t keep looking back, and I don’t think they are. What about you?”
“I thought about your dad today,” Rue admitted.
“Better you than me.”
Someone might say that sounded harsh, but Rue understood the context better than anyone else. There was not a soul in Lawrence’s private or business environment that didn’t describe him as polite, soft-spoken, old-fashioned in a charming way. It wasn’t until her mid-twenties that Joanna had overcome the gaslighting.
“He never once raised his voice at me. Until the day I revealed to him that I was your lesbian lover, of course.”
Joanna nearly choked on her sip of water. “You told him that?” She couldn’t remember that term from the first time Rue had told her the story.
“Not in those words, no.” Rue laughed. “But the gist was the same.” More serious, she continued. “He’s really like so many people, they fool themselves thinking toeing the line is something to admire as long as you do it in a polite tone and good clothes. The worst is I was starting to tell myself it was all right to keep working there as long as I didn’t believe in the same things.”
“We’re both better off.” Without him in our lives. Joanna didn’t say it out loud. She didn’t have to.
“I am proud of you,” Rue said. “Of the person you became in spite of him.”
The surge of emotion caught her off guard. Typical for her, Joanna had to think of the days waking up to an empty bottle and a half filled ash tray on the table, and inconsequential hook-ups, one of them turning out to be a sadistic criminal. She blamed her father for a lot, but not those. Those things, she had brought on herself.
Exit Strategy Page 6
