by Lisa Jackson
Back and forth, back and forth. She gritted her teeth as the metal scraped against metal. Occasionally she would stop and check her progress, allowing herself a frown. But she had given up on cursing and crying, realizing that it only sucked her energy away and tugged her down into an even lower pit of misery.
Today, when she went to check how far she had worn the cuff chain away, she noticed the marks she was making on the bucket. The bucket’s rim was now a shinier shade of silver, with hairline scrapes feathering this way and that—evidence of her escape efforts.
Would he notice?
Probably.
She lowered herself to the cot and leaned back against the beam of what was supposed to be a wall. What excuse could she give? That she’d been chewing on the edge of the water bucket because she was hungry? She actually didn’t have much appetite. The takeout burgers and peanut butter sandwiches he brought her had little appeal because they came from him. She kept hydrated with creek water, but it gave her satisfaction when he would return and find that she’d barely picked at the food.
Maybe she should tell him that she’d been trying to file down her nails? That would be a laugh. She had asked him to bring some shampoo, toothpaste, and a manicure kit. She had planned to use the latter for the sharp edges she’d find inside, though she had made a pitch about getting sexy for him. He was always telling her what a failure she was as a whore. Like that was going to motivate her. Right. If you don’t like it, asshole, let me go.
But Monster Man had simply brought her a toothbrush and toothpaste and told her he wasn’t running a resort. The bastard. She started scraping again, fiendishly, desperately.
When she stopped, the chain link appeared bruised, but not compromised at all. Leaning back with a sigh, she wiped the fine sheen of sweat from her forehead and gingerly touched the tender area of her wrists under the handcuffs. The nasty acetate made her wrists sweat and left a raw, crusty ring around her wrists. She reached her fingertips into the water bucket and came back with droplets to flick over the wound. Hardly a first aid kit, but better than nothing.
She blew on her wrist to dry it, and then tugged the cuffs back toward her fingertips. The ring began to slide along the butt of her palm.
What?
She stared at it with eyes wide open, tugging again. The cuffs were definitely closer to sliding off than they had ever been before.
She gaped in wonder. Were her bones collapsing? Or maybe it was because she was barely eating and losing weight.
Whatever was causing it, she had a chance of sliding out of these in the future.
A chance.
Leaning toward the bucket, she cupped a handful of water, splashed it over her neck, and leaned back against the wall. The water helped to cool her as it trickled down over her breasts and shoulders.
She closed her eyes and dreamed of stepping into the icy waters of the creek with Dean beside her, holding her hand.
Someday, the dream would be real.
Someday …
Chapter 20
“Did she settle in?” Ethan asked as Ruth came down the stairs from tucking Penny in.
“She crashed soon after her head hit the pillow, but that’s no surprise. It’s been a long day.”
True to his word, he had swung by after dinner and given the three of them a ride in his truck to the ridge. Penny had been happy to meet up with her friends there, and Ruth had been thrilled to have entertainment of her own as she and Ethan sat and watched from a blanket. Overhead, fireworks sizzled and exploded in the sky. Back on solid ground, Ruth experienced a few thrilling tremors of her own as Ethan reached across the blanket and covered her hand with his. And when the temperature began to drop quickly on the open hill, he was quick to get his denim jacket from the truck and slide it over her shoulders.
Don’t fall too fast, Ruth kept warning herself as the night went on. You don’t know him all that well.
Which wasn’t entirely true, as she had known him for more than fifteen years. And just as she knew there was something seriously off-balance about the man who’d come to her home last night, she knew that Ethan Starr was a good-hearted man with two boots on solid ground.
After the fireworks, when he pulled up in front of their house, she didn’t hesitate to invite him in. Penny changed into her pajamas and came downstairs with a collection of books, from which Ethan performed Green Eggs and Ham, leaving them all in stitches. Penny’s father, Sterling, could be a performer too, though he didn’t allow himself to go to the silly places that eight-year-olds enjoyed.
“You’re good with kids,” she said. “I’m surprised you don’t have any of your own.”
He shrugged. “I’m not dead yet.”
She smiled down at him, loving the light in his eyes. Nope, definitely not dead. “Thanks for doing the story tonight. It’s been a long day, and I didn’t sleep last night.”
“That’s no good.”
“After I saw him in the street, I didn’t feel safe. I was afraid to close my eyes.”
“Where did he come from? Can you show me?”
“The park across the street.” She unlocked the door to the porch. “You can see it from out here.”
The screened-in porch was cooler than the house, the night air punctuated by the hoot of an owl and the rumble of the neighbors’ air conditioners. “He emerged from those tall trees, the cedars that border the park.”
“Right across the street? This guy’s brazen. No wonder you were scared.”
The darkness seemed to have black pockets of unidentifiable hazards. He could be hiding anywhere, under the Hendersons’ canoe or behind a bush in the park. She turned away with a shiver. “It was a relief when the sheriff came out, but I can’t expect to have cops guarding my house every night. What if he comes back?”
He looked over at the porch swing, then at the outdoor sofa with its blue-and-green-striped cushions. “I guess I know where I’m sleeping tonight.”
“Ethan, really, that’s nice of you, but—”
“It’s what friends do for friends in these parts. You said it yourself: you were too afraid to close your eyes. And he could come back. And if he does, I’m your first line of defense. Guy like that isn’t going to mess with me. Predators prey on fear. A woman alone, a kid in the house.”
The thought of having him here in her home filled her with relief and excitement, and she honestly didn’t know which emotion was stronger. “I’d owe you, big-time.”
He smiled and raked his hair back. “I’d settle for one of those cupcakes you baked today. Or actually, a real date. I’ve got this invite to the Dillinger wedding.”
“Colton and Sabrina?”
“Are you already going?”
“No, I don’t know them that well. But I’ve heard about it. Talk around town.”
“Colton’s a friend. I might actually enjoy the festivities with you there. Want to be my plus-one?”
A dreamlike image of dancing in Ethan’s arms came to mind, sweet and ethereal. “I’d love to. My first big event back in town.” She yawned. “Let me get you a blanket. I don’t know how comfortable this couch is. Do you want a sleeping bag?”
“A sheet and a pillow would do it.”
“Or maybe the couch inside?”
“This is better. I like the fresh air, and I don’t want Penny to hear me snoring when she comes down for her morning cereal.”
“Penny … I didn’t think about that. It can be traumatizing for a kid when a parent begins dating.”
He gave a skeptical look, crinkles forming at the edges of his eyes. “I think she’ll hold up just fine, Dr. Ruth.”
She brought him sheets and a blanket, then went upstairs to get ready for bed. She was slipping on her nightgown when she realized he needed a pillow. She grabbed two from her bed and took them downstairs.
“Ethan?” She called from the open screen door. “Are you awake?”
“Sure thing.”
Pillows clutched to her chest, she stepped ont
o the screened-in porch and felt her eyes grow wide at the sight of him, bare-chested, on her couch. His thick biceps and broad chest tapered down to a narrow waist. She longed to run her hand along the line of hair that began below his navel and ran down into his jeans. Damn, but he looked good. Better than her teenaged imaginings.
“How’s the couch?” she asked.
“Pretty comfortable.” He patted a spot beside him. “Give it a try.”
As if she hadn’t sat on that thing a dozen times, she settled in beside him, drawn to him. “I brought you pillows.”
“Thanks.” He took them and tossed them on the sofa behind her, his eyes sweeping over her in appreciation. “That’s a nice nightgown.”
She looked down, suddenly aware of the transparency of the cool summer cotton revealing the pink, round nipples of her breasts, the flare of her collarbones, the dark triangle at the juncture of her legs. “That’s a summer nightgown for you,” she said. “Might as well be naked.”
“Might as well.” He leaned in with the clear intention of a kiss, and realizing that she wanted more, so much more, she closed her eyes and opened herself to him, body and soul. Their kissing was accompanied by exploring hands, tentative at first, and then more confident, more teasing. She thrilled to the hard planes and edges of the muscle and bone beneath his skin, while his fingertips left a trail of fire that swept through her skin and licked at long-buried desire.
This is how it’s meant to be, she thought as he moved over her, the last vestiges of clothing long abandoned. This is how it feels to make love, to be loved.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, holding himself tight above her. “I mean, the neighbors …”
“Are asleep with their air conditioners humming,” she said. Her conscious mind told her it was a bit brazen, but the half-wall of the porch and the surrounding shrubs provided enough privacy in the night.
“Are you really ready for this? We could wait.”
“Yes, yes. No waiting,” she gasped. She had been waiting for this all her life.
He lowered himself to her and began to move, slowly at first, treating her with a combination of tenderness and driving need that nearly brought her to tears. Out in the cool night air of the porch, with fireworks from one of the neighbor’s yards crackling in the dark sky, Ruth felt the storm clouds race over the horizon of her shame, a clear sky at last. Only clear skies.
*
He stood behind the lilac bush by the fence, only a few feet away from the rutting sounds on the porch. The whore.
He sheathed his knife and pressed it to the crotch of his pants. He was rock hard, eager to get in on the action, hungry for another taste of her. He should never have let her get away. Her bare, naked fear had intensified his thrill that night. He’d had her, and he would have kept her if it weren’t for her friends coming after him.
And then she’d left town. Gone, just like that.
But she’d come back, all high and mighty. All educated. A therapist. Like she was better than everyone else. But he knew the truth. Strip off the fancy clothes, and you had a simpering whore like any other. She was supposed to be his that night, his way to get the craziness out of his system so he could fly straight and leave those other bitches alone. She slipped through his fingers then, but he’d gotten smarter, better at the game. This time, he was taking home a trophy.
She would know that soon enough. He had left her a gift in the mailbox—a snapshot of their time together.
A promise that he would keep coming around until he could have her again—this time for good.
*
Sleep was a panacea for so many things.
After a night of rest in the safe comfort of Ethan’s protection, Ruth awoke to the smell of freshly brewed coffee from downstairs.
He’d made coffee.
Never in her marriage to Sterling, child of privilege, had he ever lifted a finger in the kitchen. It was such a simple gesture, but it filled her with hope for the future and a sizzling excitement about their relationship. She threw on a robe and met him downstairs in the kitchen.
“G’morning.” He was putting his boots on.
She was sorry to see him go. “Leaving already?”
“I’ve got to get going. Shower and church. Will I see you there?”
“I take Penny to Sunday school at the Unitarian Church.”
“Sounds like a father-daughter issue, but I get it. Been there with my own father, and I didn’t have those hellfire and brimstone sermons to deal with.”
“I’ve been trying to avoid church with my father since I returned. And now that I’ve told him I am going public with the rape, I want to keep my distance more than ever.”
“He wasn’t supportive about that?”
“Hardly.” She took a sip of coffee. “I’ll explain that later.”
“Maybe for dinner? I could pick up something to grill here,” he said. “Or if you have plans, I can come over later to man my post on the porch.”
She was about to tell him he didn’t have to stay, that a good night’s sleep had restored her confidence, but in terms of her personal security, nothing had really changed. Right now, she needed him. “Dinner would be great,” she said.
He headed out the door, pausing on the way to pull her close and kiss her good-bye. He left her a little breathless and wanting more.
*
She was dropping off the cupcakes in the Sunday school office when her phone buzzed—the hotline.
Panic squeezed her tight as she thought of him. Was he here at church, watching her? She looked behind her and saw Daisy, the church secretary, talking with a mom. Down the hall, a handful of ushers were chatting, but she was too far away to make out their faces.
She pushed her way out the door to the pebble walkway lined by thirsty pansies and braced herself for his voice.
“This is the Sexual Assault Support Line,” she said flatly.
“Um … is this Ruth?” A female voice.
Ruth allowed herself to breathe again. “Yes. Please, tell me what happened to you.”
“Uh … this is Lily.”
“Yes, I remember your voice.” Ruth moved rapidly, putting some distance between herself and the church complex so that congregants did not hear her conversation. “You usually call at night.”
“Is it a bad time?”
“No, no. Don’t hang up.”
“I … I just left church and, I don’t know… . Everywhere I turn, I see signs that I should tell the police what I know. That girl Addie going missing, and the dead girl’s body. And this morning in church, the minister kept saying, ‘The truth shall set you free.’ It was like he was talking to me. He kept looking at me. This is killing me.”
“I know Addie Donovan’s disappearance has been weighing on you, Lily.” Just as it’s been killing me. “I think it would help you to talk to the sheriff.”
“I can’t do that. I can’t risk my girl being … no. I told you, you can pass on the stuff I remember if you think it will help the cops nail him.”
“I’m happy to do that, but the investigators will want to meet with you.”
“No.”
“What if we met somewhere of your own choosing? There’s a female detective with the sheriff’s office who’s very easy to talk with.”
“I can’t … I don’t know what to do. He’s all I think about now.” She was starting to panic.
“When you’re ready, Lily,” Ruth soothed. “You can do it. There’s a vicious brute out there, and he needs to be stopped. We can do this together.” Ruth knew that Lily would not understand how difficult it was for Ruth to also come forward, but maybe she would sense the urgency and commitment in Ruth’s voice.
“I’ll think about it,” Lily said. “But I can’t come to Prairie Creek.”
“Detective Starr and I will meet you halfway.”
“I’ll think about it. That’s the best I can say now.”
And without another word, Lily ended the call, leaving Ruth stranded
alone two blocks beyond the church parking lot in a residential neighborhood so quiet she could hear bees buzzing in the hedges.
As Ruth walked back toward the church building, she looked warily toward the parking lot and then toward the church lobby—both empty, now that the service had begun inside.
Was he out there, watching? Planning. Waiting to pounce again?
Her heartbeat raced faster than the click of her heels as she returned to the relative safety of the church building. She couldn’t go on like this much longer. She was grateful for Ethan’s presence at night, but she was out of her league in the investigation of a potential kidnapper and rapist. After all the avoiding, now she couldn’t wait to talk with Kat.
*
After church, the afternoon loomed long on a scorcher of a day without a breeze or a cloud in sight. “It’ll be too hot to sit through the rodeo,” Ruth told her daughter. The fairgrounds had very little sun cover—just a few tents and hardly a tree in sight. “Why don’t you invite the girls over to splash around in the backyard?”
“We did that yesterday,” Penny said, though she clearly didn’t mind giving up the rodeo. “Can we go to Bonny Lake?”
Although Penny had been to the small waterfront swim park with other friends and their moms, Ruth had avoided the place, only because it was a vague reminder of another, more desolate lake of summers gone by. But if she was going to insist that Lily face her fears, then Ruth would need to move in that direction too.
“Let’s pack some snacks and drinks,” Ruth said. “And don’t forget sunscreen.”
An hour later, Ruth was backing a car full of girls out of the driveway when she saw something sticking out of the mailbox. Huh. There was no mail delivery on the Fourth of July or on Sunday. She put the car in PARK and opened her door.
