SUCH A GOOD GIRL: An urgently timely gripping mystery with a heartbreaking twist (Eva Rae Thomas Mystery Book 9)

by Willow Rose

  Kimmie swallowed. She sniffled, and I grabbed the tissue box and handed it to her. She wiped her nose and eyes.

  “It’s just so…embarrassing,” she said, almost hiccupping from crying.

  I exhaled and rubbed my forehead. She was crying heavily now. I leaned forward. “Listen, Kimmie. We’ve all done things we regret, okay? If it’s any help, I don’t think less of you for telling me this. I don’t think you could fall any lower, so…”

  That made her chuckle between sobs.

  “Point taken.”

  She took another tissue and wiped her eyes, then looked up at me.

  “So, what happened?” I asked again.

  She took in a deep breath. “We took the elevator up to his penthouse apartment, and as we walk inside, I saw the girl.”

  “Samantha Durkin?”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew her name?”

  “No. I didn’t at this point. She told me later.”

  “Okay,” I said, writing it down. “So, she is already in the apartment when you get there?”

  “Yes. She’s sitting on the couch and looks up as we enter. Her eyes are big and fearful, but Richard just smiles.”

  “Did you say anything?”

  “I looked at Richard and asked, ‘who is she?’”

  “And what did he say?”

  “‘Does it matter?’ That’s what he said, with a grin, of course. And then I was about to back out when he grabbed my arm and told me to come closer. And then he said he wanted us all to have sex. He wanted me to…well, be with the girl…um Samantha, and then he’d watch and later join us.”

  “A threesome?” I asked.

  Kimmie nodded, then sniffled again. “I…I didn’t know what to say. I have never done anything like that before. I’m a good girl, darn it. This wasn’t what I had said yes to. It was too much. I told him so, and then Samantha started to say the same. She didn’t want to either. Then he told us we were both applying for the same job and that he would make his decision based on our performance that night.”

  I stared at her, suppressing the urge to act appalled.

  “What did you do?”

  “I should have left.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  Kimmie shook her head, her eyes tearing up again. “I needed the job; I really did. It would change my life and Tristan’s. We were struggling. I don’t know if you know what it’s like when you don’t know if you’ll have enough money to feed your child next month? The life of a freelancer is tough. I haven’t been able to find a steady job since the hours are unmanageable, but now that Tristan is older, I could finally accept one with strange hours. It might sound odd, but I didn’t feel like I had a choice.”

  “And the girl? Samantha? What did she say?”

  Kimmie, struggling to keep calm, bit her lip.

  “She…she wanted to leave.”

  “Did you know her?” I asked.

  Kimmie shook her head. “Never seen her before.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. She was way younger than me. My guess is she worked for him in one of his news stations.”

  I nodded. “She did.” I flipped a page in the file. “She was an intern. But it says here that you said that you knew she had an abortion recently. How can you know that if you didn’t know her?”

  Kimmie went quiet for a minute, her eyes flickering.

  “She told me that while we were in the apartment.”

  “That’s something pretty serious to talk about in a situation like this,” I said.

  “Wanton was on the deck outside smoking, and we got to talking. She was super scared of being pregnant again.”

  I stared at Kimmie, biting the side of my cheek, not quite grasping this. I decided to let it go.

  “That’s also when she told me she’d go tell him that she had decided to leave,” Kimmie continued. “She told me she’d tell him she wasn’t having it, that she was done, and it didn’t matter if she got the job or not. She didn’t even want it this way. I admired her guts as she got up and walked out to him. I had never heard of anyone standing up to Richard Wanton before.”

  “Then, what happened?”

  Kimmie paused. I could tell this was hard for her. Her breathing was rapid now, her nostrils flaring lightly.

  “It’s okay, Kimmie. You can tell me. You can trust me. I might be angry with you for what happened with Chad, but you can still trust me.”

  She looked up at the small round camera placed in the ceiling in the corner of the room. “Is anyone else listening in?”

  I nodded. “Everything is being recorded, yes.”

  “That’s what scares me. Not you, but those that are listening in.”

  I nodded in reassurance. “I understand that. But I know these people. There are two of them, and both have been my colleagues and friends for years. They’re good people. I trust them. I can vouch for them.”

  Kimmie locked eyes with me. I could tell she was struggling.

  Then, she nodded, her head heavy.

  “Okay. I trust you, Eva Rae.” She shook her head. “I mean, Agent Tho…”

  I reached out my hand to stop her.

  “It’s okay.”

  She smiled. It came off as anxious.

  I leaned forward and folded my hands on the table. “Kimmie. What happened to Samantha?”

  “She…she walked out to him on the terrace,” Kimmie said, her voice breaking. “And then…I…I watched them from inside, arguing.”

  “And then what happened?”

  Kimmie lifted her eyes and met mine again. She was crying now.

  “Then he…he grabbed her arms and yelled. I couldn’t hear what he said, but his face was really close to hers, and she was scared, very obviously scared, and she sort of scrunched down, and then she tried to get out of his grip. She pulled away, but he…he pulled her back forcefully, and then he…he…”

  She stopped and looked down at her fingers.

  “He what, Kimmie? What did he do?”

  She lifted her eyes and met mine again. The look in them told me what she was going to say before the words left her lips.

  “He pushed her.”

  “He pushed her?”

  Kimmie nodded. “He pushed her toward the railing, and then he pushed her, so she slipped over it. I saw him do it and heard her scream. It was the strangest thing. One second, she was there, then the next…gone. Poof, just like that. It was like she had never existed. It felt so surreal.”

  “And what did you do?”

  Kimmie took in another deep breath. “I was completely paralyzed. I stood there, staring at the window, and then I ran to the bedroom and hid in there. I locked the door, afraid he’d come for me next. I had my purse and was looking for my phone to call for help. But I never did because then the officers burst in. They had seen it happen from the street, and they arrested him. I was lucky they came when they did. There’s no telling what he might have done to me if they hadn’t come right when they did.”

  Chapter 15

  “That’s it.”

  Carol dropped the fork onto her plate. She clenched her fists and bit down hard, speaking through gritted teeth.

  John Savage looked up at her, surprised at this outburst. They were in the middle of dinner, salmon quiche, prepared by Lola in the kitchen. There had been a long silence between them when Carol suddenly broke it.

  “I want out.”

  John tilted his head. “What do you mean you want out?”

  She closed her eyes briefly and made an annoyed sound. “Out. I want out of this, of us. We’ve been married for twenty years, John, and I can’t do it anymore.”

  John stared at her, still chewing. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sick of this, of being here, of being married.”

  John shook his head. Where was this coming from all of a sudden? He reached out his hand to touch Carol’s.

  “Honey, what on earth is going on?”

  She pull
ed her hand away. She lifted her arms and spat as she spoke. “I’m done. You need to listen to me, John. I am leaving you.”

  “But…why? What did I do?” he asked desperately.

  Carol sent him a look that could kill.

  “Like you don’t know.”

  “I’m trying my best here, Carol.”

  She exhaled deeply, then rubbed her forehead. “I…I just can’t take any more of this. I want out.”

  “Carol, honey. I know there have been issues…in the past, but I thought we worked through them. There hasn’t been…anyone else for a very long time. I have been good. I thought you knew.”

  She looked at him, her brown eyes cold and harsh. Then something happened in them as they met his. They eased up, and she had a gentle expression on her face.

  “There really hasn’t been anyone? Honestly?”

  He shook his head. “There’s only you.”

  She exhaled and eased her shoulders, narrowing her eyes. “Really? Because it was driving me nuts to have to worry constantly…I mean, every time you receive a text or someone calls, I can’t help thinking that it’s…well…”

  John smiled and reached out his hand toward Carol. This time, she took his in hers. “I promise you, Carol. There’s no one.”

  “That’s so good to hear. Thank you, sweetie,” she said and finished her wine. He poured her some more while she breathed easier.

  “Say, how about we go away for the weekend, huh?” John asked, smiling gently at Carol. He had loved her since they met twenty years ago, and he knew he had put her through so much. She didn’t deserve the way he had treated her.

  “To that place up north you love so much?”

  Carol’s eyes grew wide, and a smile spread across her face.

  “The one in Martha’s Vineyard? You know I love that place.”

  “That’s a deal, then,” he said. “I just need to go push back a couple of meetings; give me a second.”

  Carol nodded, her eyes gleaming as she looked at him. John left the dining room and went to his office, where he grabbed his cell phone and called a number.

  “Hi, it’s me. Any news about our little friend?”

  John nodded as the person filled him in, worry starting to nag at the pit of his stomach. He hung up, then dialed another number, his hands getting sweaty.

  “She’s talking,” he said. “It’s bad. We need to do something.”

  Chapter 16

  THEN:

  The alcohol buzz was wearing off. Samantha glared at Richard Wanton, who was still naked on the bed, smoking another cigarette while watching her get dressed. It was late, and the sun about to rise outside. She had to get back to the hotel room she shared with another intern before she woke up and started to ask questions. Samantha felt strange. She couldn’t really put it into words, but as the effects of the alcohol slowly wore off, the feeling of having screwed up became more and more evident.

  What was she doing?

  “Anyway…I’ll just be…” she said and pointed toward the door.

  Richard Wanton put out his cigarette, then slid down from the bed and walked to her. Samantha felt embarrassed and lowered her eyes as he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek while placing both hands on her shoulders, then took in a deep breath like he was smelling her.

  “I’m gonna have a lot of fun with you,” he whispered in her ear. He smelled like a mixture of sex and cigarettes.

  “W-what do you mean?” she asked.

  That made him smile, his blue eyes narrowing as he studied her. He caressed her cheek gently, then grabbed her by the neck and pulled her closer till his face was right in front of hers, and she could smell his breath. A chill ran down her spine.

  “I mean, I want to have sex with you in my office, in my car, and the basement beneath the TV station.”

  Samantha’s eyes grew wide. He was still holding her head, and she could barely move. She didn’t know what to say to him.

  “I…I didn’t even know there was a basement beneath the TV station?” she said, then thought it was the stupidest thing in the world.

  That made him chuckle. He looked into her eyes, and it made her feel weird. What was this? What was going on?

  “I’ll show you,” he said.

  “I…I should…” she said and pointed at the door behind her again. She desperately wanted to leave now.

  Richard Wanton let go of her, then kissed the top of her hand while Samantha felt her heart race in her chest.

  She turned around and reached out for the door, then he sprang forward and opened it for her, then held it open. Samantha smiled awkwardly, feeling such deep confusion as she was about to leave.

  Then he grabbed her by the shoulder, leaned forward, and whispered in her ear:

  “I’m gonna screw you so hard; you won’t be able to walk for two weeks.”

  Hearing this, Samantha gasped and looked at him. As he closed the door behind her, still smiling like they were now sharing a secret, she felt like she was going to be sick. She clasped her mouth and ran down the hallway, found her hotel room, fumbled with the keycard, and hurried inside. She closed the door behind her. Then she ran for the bathroom and threw up.

  Chapter 17

  “I think I have all that we need,” I said and closed the file. I glared at Kimmie across the table. Her eyes lingered hopefully on me. We had spent hours going over her statement, again and again, to make sure it was bulletproof.

  “So, what happens next?” she asked, her voice shaking lightly.

  “It’s out of my hands from here on,” I said. “But now they’ll use your testimony to try and build a case against Wanton. Hopefully, there’ll be physical evidence from the apartment backing up your testimony and then…hope…”

  Kimmie shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  I paused and looked at her.

  “I meant what happens to me?” she continued.

  I rubbed my forehead. “I’m not sure I’m the right person to answer that. But I take it you go home and then…”

  “No!”

  I wrinkled my forehead. “What do you mean by no?”

  “No, I’m not going back home. There’s no way.”

  “But…but what about…”

  “It’s too dangerous. I can’t go back.”

  “So, what did you have in mind?”

  She reached out her hand and grabbed mine. The touch felt awkward, and I wanted to pull it back but didn’t.

  “I know Richard Wanton. He’s a powerful man. He’s gonna try and get rid of me. I need protection,” Kimmie said.

  “I’m sure that Director Horne can get you into a protection program; it really isn’t my specialty. Let’s go talk to…”

  Kimmie held onto my hand as I tried to get up. She shook her head again, her eyes desperate.

  “No, please. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone here. They could all be in his pocket. He’s got friends everywhere. I fear he’s preparing to have me killed as we speak.”

  I exhaled. “Kimmie. It’s okay. You can trust us. I promise you.”

  “Will you protect me?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I only trust you. Can you protect me?”

  I looked at my phone on the table, then thought about Angel, feeling a pang of deep guilt for being away. I shook my head.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t do that. I’m a profiler. Besides, I have a baby to get home to.”

  Kimmie sank back in the chair. I could see the fear in her eyes, but I ignored it. Instead, I grabbed the file, rose to my feet, and looked down at her.

  “Listen, Kimmie. You’ll be fine. The FBI has great programs for protecting witnesses. They know what they’re doing.”

  “I just really wanted you to be there,” Kimmie said.

  I smiled compassionately. “I understand. But look at me. I recently had a baby. I am in no shape to protect anyone. I truly do believe they have other people here that are better at that than me.”

  �
��And you’re sure I’ll be safe with them?”

  I leaned forward, then nodded. “Absolutely. Trust me on this, Kimmie.”

  Part II

  One week later

  Chapter 18

  Joe stood by her bedside, sighing deeply. Rachel had her back turned away from him, hoping he’d leave soon.

  “Are you planning on staying in bed all day…again?” he asked.

  Rachel closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. Two days ago, she had been driving down her street when suddenly it had hit her, hard. It was like this big black hole had opened up beneath her and sucked all life and hope out of her. Then she had started to cry. Her torso shaking heavily, she had let the tears gush down her cheeks. It had become so violent that she had to park the car on the side of the road to be safe. There she had sat for two hours, unable to move. She had been crying, bawling her eyes out, unable to stop. And she had been crying ever since. All the day before, she had been unable to get out of bed. She had simply laid there, hour after hour, staring at the window, crying. Joe had to make dinner when he came home from the office late, and she hadn’t eaten anything all day. She simply had no desire to. All she wanted was to stop crying, but the tears kept coming.

  This morning, she had woken up at the same time as Joe, but she was just lying there, unable to move as he got himself ready.

  “I’m leaving now,” he said. “I’m taking Marissa to school. In case you care.”

  Rachel wanted to say something; she wanted to nod or at least somehow acknowledge that she had heard him, that she appreciated that he took over the way he did when she was unable to. But nothing came out; she had no strength even to turn around and look at him. Instead, she felt the tears come again and closed her eyes, hoping she could somehow force them back inside, or at least that they wouldn’t leave her body if she kept her eyelids shut. But it was hopeless, and she felt her cheeks get wet.

  Oh, no. Not again!

  “Rachel? Are you even listening?”