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

by Willow Rose

  The sedan came up behind us, then drove up on our side again.

  “Get down in the back,” I said to Kimmie and Tristan.

  “I’ve just about had it with these people,” Miranda said as she leaned over me and pulled something out from behind the back of my seat.

  A shotgun.

  She cocked it, then asked me to lean back, placed it out the window, and fired at the sedan. The shot shattered their window. Traffic was moving again ahead of us, and Miranda cocked the gun again, then handed it to me.

  “Take out their tires.”

  I stared at her. She got impatient and yelled:

  “Are you waiting for me to ask politely?”

  I shook my head, then did as she said. I aimed at a tire and fired. The front tire exploded while Miranda stepped on the accelerator and floored it, tires screeching. The truck jolted forward, and she zigzagged between cars while I stared at the sedan that remained in place behind us.

  Chapter 71

  As expected, the place was crawling with journalists, cameras flickering, and reporters doing lives from the stairs outside the courthouse. Rachel smiled at the sight, remembering her own days as a reporter, waiting for endless hours for a verdict in a high-profile case. She didn’t think she would, but she realized she actually missed it.

  She walked up the stairs, then past the heavy security and police guarding the doors. She went through the security check and then continued toward the courtroom. As she entered, she had to take a deep breath. In the front, the first thing she saw was Richard Wanton, sitting at the desk with his team of high-profile lawyers. Behind him, she spotted Wanton’s wife and his best friend John Savage, sitting close to his wife, Carol. Rachel felt sick to her stomach thinking about the last time she had seen John Savage at his house.

  The bastard.

  On the other side, she spotted FBI director Isabella Horne, recognizing her from TV, along with her colleagues and what she assumed was the prosecutor. They wore serious expressions and seemed nervous. According to the news this morning, they had reason to be. They didn’t have much evidence, and it was anticipated that the case would be dismissed.

  “All rise for the Honorable Judge Moore,” a voice yelled, and they stood to their feet as the judge came in. He sat down, then looked seriously at all of them. “Counselors, please approach the bench.”

  He spoke with a low voice to them, then looked at the prosecutor and said loudly: “Do you or don’t you have a witness?”

  Just as he said the words, Carol Savage turned her head and met Rachel’s gaze in the back of the courtroom.

  As their eyes met, they both smiled.

  Chapter 72

  THEN:

  It all went down so fast; she barely had time to react. Sitting next to her, very close, Mitt stared at Samantha intensely. There had been a shift in his eyes—in the way he looked at her, and it immediately made her uneasy.

  The corners of his lips twisted into a smirk right before he lifted his hand and placed it on top of her mouth. Then, using his weight, he pressed her down onto the bench she was sitting on.

  Confused, Samantha didn’t know what to think. Mitt’s hands were on her face, pressing her down while he laid on top of her, his fingers piercing into her skin as she tried to move beneath him. All she could think about for some reason was Jeremy. She couldn’t lift her head to look because Mitt was holding her head down, and every time she tried to, he pushed her back down, using his weight. But for some reason, it was all she could think about—Jeremy and whether or not he was still sitting there. Was he watching what was happening? For reasons she couldn’t understand, she worried that he was because she believed it was the most embarrassing thing in the world if he were still there.

  Why isn’t Mitt kissing me if he likes me?

  Samantha squirmed beneath his weight while Mitt pulled up her skirt and penetrated her, still holding her down, pressing his hands on her mouth. The bench was hard on her back and uncomfortable, and she felt a pain stab her. She wanted to say something; she wanted to scream and kick him off, but somehow, she couldn’t. Instead, she froze completely. It was like every part of her body became immobilized, and she gave up the fight.

  She let him have his way.

  At some point, she managed to lift her head just enough to peek above the table, and that’s when she realized that Jeremy had gone. He was no longer sitting there, which gave her profound relief. Maybe he hadn’t seen anything after all? Yet, she suddenly couldn’t stop wondering why he had just left. If he had seen Mitt press her onto the bench, why didn’t he say something? Why didn’t he stop him?

  As she was thinking this, Mitt lifted his hand and slapped her across the face, and she fell back onto the bench, her cheek burning while Mitt placed an elbow on her face to keep her down. Samantha focused on lying completely still, hoping it would be over soon, trying to think as little as possible.

  When he was done, Mitt sat up on the bench, pulled out a cigarette, and then lit it. Samantha sat up next to him, still feeling confused, asking herself what had just happened.

  He handed her a cigarette. “Smoke?”

  She shook her head.

  He put the pack away, then inhaled and exhaled with a satisfied grunt. Then, he looked at her.

  “I like the way that I just took you. Just like that.”

  He snapped his fingers with a grin. Samantha forced a smile, not quite knowing what to say. She stared at him, unable to figure out how to react.

  He grinned at her again. “I would like to do other stuff with you.”

  Samantha grabbed her purse.

  “I…I should go home.”

  He rose to his feet and approached her. “There’s something my wife won’t do with me. I’d like to try that with you.”

  He placed a hand on her shoulder, and it felt so heavy that Samantha slumped forward. She avoided looking into his eyes. Instead, she just said goodbye, then rushed out of the apartment and into the rainy street, feeling how everyone’s eyes lingered on her, how they could all see, just by looking at her, what she had done.

  Chapter 73

  “Director Horne?”

  Isabella Horne looked up at Judge Moore.

  “Can you possibly shed some light onto this mystery?” he asked. “I am very close to dismissing your case because the way I see it, you really don’t have enough for us to continue. If you can’t bring more to the table, I have no other option than to declare Richard Wanton free of all charges.”

  A murmur rushed through the crowd.

  Isabella Horne cleared her throat. “Your Honor, I…”

  “I don’t want to hear any more excuses, Director. Do you have a witness or not?”

  Silence spread inside the courtroom. Everyone was holding their breath, waiting to hear the outcome.

  “I might be able to answer that question, Your Honor.”

  I stepped inside the courtroom, and all eyes turned to look at us. Kimmie was right behind me, while Miranda had taken Tristan with her to a seat among the spectators. I walked closer.

  “I believe I have the witness Director Horne is missing,” I said.

  Isabella stared at me, eyes wide.

  “Eva Rae Thomas?”

  I approached her. “Yes, surprisingly alive and well. And so is Kimmie here. Ready to testify to what happened on the night Samantha Durkin died.”

  “Eva Rae…I…” Isabella started.

  “This woman is wanted for murder,” my former FBI colleague Timmy Gardner yelled, standing up from his seat. He sat back down when Isabella gave him a look.

  Isabella faced me. “Eva Rae…You…”

  I stopped her. “Save it for later. I know you didn’t send those people to kill me. I know you weren’t the leak. Timmy was.”

  I turned to face Timmy Gardner in his seat. The big guy squirmed. “I found the video Savage used to blackmail you into giving him the information on where the FBI kept Kimmie and what she told us. That girl in the video is a minor. N
o wonder your wife divorced you.” I turned to look at Isabella. “My guess is he also deleted the surveillance footage, but you’ll have to talk to him about that. I’ll send you everything later. Then, you can deal with him.”

  Judge Moore slammed his gavel. “Could we please get some order in the courtroom? Now, will anyone explain to me what is going on? Please, approach the bench.”

  Isabella grabbed my hand and pulled me with her toward the judge. Kimmie came up behind us.

  “All right. Could someone please clarify for me what on earth is going on here? Do you have a witness or not?”

  “We do, Your Honor,” Isabella said and pulled Kimmie closer. “This woman was in the apartment when Samantha Durkin fell to her death from the terrace. She saw what happened and has agreed to testify.”

  I bit my lip, hesitating for just a second, then said:

  “But I am afraid her testimony won’t be what we expected it to be.”

  A gasp went through the crowd, and the judge slammed his gavel again. “Order, order!”

  He looked down at me. “Now, what is that supposed to mean?”

  I exhaled. “That the statement that the witness gave to the FBI during the interrogation was a complete and utter lie.”

  Chapter 74

  THEN:

  “You need to get up.”

  Natasha stood at the end of Samantha’s bed, then turned on the lights. “You’ve been lying here for days now.”

  Samantha pulled the covers over her head. Nat pulled them back down, so she could look at her.

  “What’s going on with you? I don’t think you’re sick.”

  “Just let me sleep.”

  “You haven’t been to work in forever; that’s not like you. Sam, you love your job. What’s going on with you?”

  Samantha exhaled. “I called in sick. I’m just tired; that’s all.”

  “I’m not buying that,” Nat said. “Please, talk to me. Something happened, something bad. And don’t tell me I’m wrong. I know you.”

  Samantha looked at her friend. She wanted to tell her to leave, to yell something awful at her so she would never come back. The last thing she wanted at this moment was for her good friend to look at her with judgmental eyes and tell her how big a mess she had made of her life.

  Yet, for some reason, she did it anyway. She felt the urge to talk about what had happened, even though she was terrified of what Nat would say to it, how she would tell her she was a disgusting whore. Because that’s how she felt. So dirty.

  Such a mess.

  “Something did happen,” Sam said. “But I don’t know how to tell you. I am so embarrassed.”

  Nat placed a hand on her shoulder, then smiled. “Try anyway.”

  Samantha swallowed hard, then looked down at her fingers. She then told her the story of what had happened at Mitt Paige’s apartment, but she left out the names, so Nat wouldn’t know who it was.

  As she was done, she looked up at her friend, terrified when seeing the look on her face.

  “Oh, God, I never should have told you,” she said and hid her face between her hands. “You hate me now.”

  Nat grabbed her wrists, pulled her hands away from her face, and then forced her to look into her eyes.

  “Sweetie, look at me. The guy, this man, whoever he was, he…he raped you.”

  Samantha stared at Nat, heart knocking hard in her chest, then shook her head. “No…no, you don’t understand. I went up to the apartment willingly. I didn’t scream or kick or fight him. I think…I led him to believe he was allowed to do it. I must have said something; if only I could figure out what it was that I said, or did, to make him believe that’s what I wanted. That I liked it.”

  “First of all, I don’t believe that about you. But it doesn’t matter. You’re not allowed to do that to a woman, to put a hand on top of her mouth and press her down like that. That’s not okay. No matter what she said or did.”

  Samantha was breathing heavily now, tears pressing behind her eyes. “But…he was so nice? Afterward, he was kind, and…maybe he thought I liked it.”

  “Makes no difference, Sam. And you know it. Deep down in your heart, you know this. You think he was somehow entitled to do this to you, just to take you as he said afterward. You think you somehow gave him permission.”

  “Well, maybe he thought that because…because he heard I was with Wanton, then…”

  “Then he was allowed to do this to you? No way. It wouldn’t matter if you slept with a hundred men at the station. It doesn’t justify what he did to you.”

  Tears welled up in Sam’s eyes, and some of them escaped, then rolled down her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away.

  “But I am a whore. That’s who I am. And they all know it.”

  Nat grabbed Sam and pulled her into a deep hug. “Oh, sweet girl. Don’t you ever think that about yourself. These men abused you. You need to fight back. Go to HR, do you hear me? Tell your story, then let them be the judge of whether or not what happened is wrong. Don’t let them get away with this, you hear me? They had no right to treat you like this. None whatsoever.”

  Chapter 75

  “I will not have this disruption again, or I will clear the courtroom.”

  A loud burst of murmurs and shocked gasps had broken out among the spectators, and the judge tried once again to calm them. Finally, the room went quiet, and all eyes were on me.

  “Continue,” Judge Moore said.

  I cleared my throat.

  “What do you mean it is a lie?” Isabella said. “I heard her testify on the recordings, telling you that Wanton pushed Samantha Durkin.”

  I turned to look at Kimmie. She looked beyond terrified. I hadn’t told her that I knew because I feared she wouldn’t show up in the courtroom if I did. I was determined to get the truth out, no matter what the outcome was going to be.

  “Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

  She was shaking heavily, her eyes growing wide. “I…I don’t…”

  I placed a hand on her shoulder. “I know, Kimmie. I know what you were up to. I have the video from Wanton’s apartment. It was on John Savage’s computer, along with the video of Timmy and that girl. It wasn’t hard to connect the dots from there.”

  You could cut through the silence in the room as everyone waited for Kimmie to open up and explain. She stared at me, her lips vibrating, but no words left her mouth.

  “There is a video?” Judge Moore asked. “Why haven’t I been informed of this?”

  “I didn’t know either,” Isabella said. “Eva Rae, what is this video, and where did it come from? Who recorded a video?”

  I was still looking at Kimmie, waiting for her to reply, but when she didn’t, I took over. “My guess is Kimmie did.”

  “What?” Isabella said. “I don’t understand.”

  “It was recorded with a phone from inside the apartment, from the living room while Samantha and Richard Wanton were on the rooftop deck, talking. You see them arguing loudly, and that all fits with Kimmie’s story, but then you see Samantha come back to Kimmie, and you hear her say something that isn’t exactly what Kimmie told us. What did she say, Kimmie?”

  Kimmie was biting her lip, then looked down at her fingers.

  “Miss Vanderspool,” Judge Moore said. “Just tell us. We will see the video later anyway.”

  Kimmie nodded. I could tell she was about to cry, but she was fighting it.

  “I…she…Samantha told me that it wasn’t going the way she wanted it to.”

  “And what did she mean by that?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do. Come on, Kimmie. You planned this night, didn’t you? You and Samantha. You deliberately ran into Wanton the week before and made him believe you’d do anything for a job. You knew he’d try to get you into his bed. It’s how he operated. Then, when he suggested it after dinner, you went with him, knowing that Samantha would be in the apartment because you and she had made sure she would sne
ak in while you were having dinner with Wanton. Samantha bribed the doorman to let her in, then got ready for you both to get there. Wanton was surprised to see her; you conveniently forgot to mention that during the interview. You and Samantha wanted to film him asking for sex in exchange for a job, am I right? And if that didn’t work, then Samantha would sleep with him, and you could film him, and he’d get in trouble for having sex with an intern, which is against company policy. You wanted him to get fired. That’s how you’d get back at him for how he had treated both of you. Am I wrong?”

  Chapter 76

  THEN:

  “Go ahead, Miss Durkin,” the secretary sitting outside the wooden doors said. “Mr. Wanton can see you now.”

  Samantha rose to her feet, her pulse quickening. She walked to the door, then took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm herself as she pushed it open.

  Richard Wanton was standing behind his desk as she entered. He barely looked up. “Ah, Miss Durkin. Come on in.”

  Samantha closed the door behind her, then approached his desk.

  “Sit down, please,” he said, signing something, then pushing it aside. They both sat down. He finally looked at her, then exhaled, satisfied. He spoke in almost a whisper:

  “It’s good to see you again.”

  She smiled shyly. “I’m here because…”

  “Ah, yes, HR sent over the papers,” he said and grabbed a file on his desk. He flipped through it carelessly. Wanton leaned back in his leather chair, folding his hands on his chest, his eyes scrutinizing her.

  “Mitt Paige, huh?”

  Samantha nodded. She had a lump in her throat that threatened to explode. Wanton smiled.

  “You’ve been busy since you got here, haven’t you?”