Heal Me

by Grady, D. R.

  “McCully did it, Jenna,” he said with a grin.

  Her eyes swung to his partner before returning to him.

  “What did she do?”

  “She found a glove, one of those latex free ones, between the mattress and wall. Got several good prints off it.”

  “Plastic gloves offer up fingerprints?” she asked in surprise.

  “Those do,” he and McCully said together. “Cloth won’t but plastic ones will,” he clarified.

  “And you got a print?” The glee on her face was enough to make him swell in pride and he hadn’t even found the glove.

  “Jenna, has the victim woken up yet?” McCully asked before he could say anything else.

  Jenna’s expression went somber. “No, we’ve gotten no response from her.”

  A nurse walked up to her. “Here are the newest victim’s vital statistics, Dr. Fields,” she said and thrust a folder into Jenna’s hands.

  “Thank you, Clarice,” she said absently, her eyes scanning the page.

  “Where’s Jerome?” McCully asked. Owen watched as Jenna’s head jerked up and a gleam lit up her blue eyes.

  “Remember the redheaded victim, Robin McKane?”

  “Yes,” McCully answered.

  “Well, they ran into each other at the grocery store not so long ago and Jerome asked her out. He said he was so scared he nearly threw up, but he said she agreed pretty quickly so they’re going to dinner tonight,” Jenna said with a happy grin.

  “Really?” McCully squealed. “He asked her out? That’s amazing.”

  “Yes, he mentioned hoping she hadn’t only agreed to go out with him because he understood she’d been raped,” Jenna told her in an aside.

  “I doubt it. He seems like a cutie and sweet on top of it.”

  “That’s what I told him,” Jenna said and Owen couldn’t help thinking about how much both of these women meant to him.

  Fred had come to stand beside him and together they watched the animation cross the women’s faces.

  “You know Jenna, Jerome told me about those unusual gloves William Brandan used. He said they were latex free, is that right?”

  “Yes, that’s true. I’d forgotten about William being allergic to latex, but I had heard that,” Jenna responded.

  McCully’s brow creased and she looked at Jenna, “Do they make latex free condoms?”

  Jenna’s eyes widened. “I’m sure they must, although I’ve never seen them myself.”

  “Dr. Fields?” The nurse who’d given Jenna their patient’s vital stats glided up to her again.

  “Yes?” Jenna asked, but she sounded distracted.

  “Ms. Martin, the newest rape victim, is awake. She seems quite agitated.”

  “She’s coherent?” Jenna asked.

  “Yes. You’re needed.”

  “Oh, certainly, right away.” She shot a look at him and McCully and he nodded.

  “I’ll ask her questions, but I think you’d better stand back,” she told him.

  “That seems to work well. McCully can help you. I’ll stay out of sight.”

  “If you have questions, write them down and give them to one of us to ask.”

  Jenna approached the bed where the woman lay and Owen’s heart leaped. This woman couldn’t be more than nineteen or twenty. She looked extra pale and seemed agitated and restless.

  “Hello, Mackenzie. My name is Dr. Fields and I’m a rape advocate. I’m going to ask you some questions for the police and also for my records. If you don’t know the answer, that’s fine, but the more detail you remember and can give us, the better,” she said gently and Owen marveled at her bedside manner. What an incredible woman.

  “This is Detective McCully,” and Jenna indicated his partner who smiled gently at the woman and offered a small salute, which earned her the semblance of a smile in return. “She’s going to take notes and may have a few questions for you. But I’ll ask most of the questions, okay? If you need to take a break, we can do so. Again, the more information you can give us, the better we’ll be able to help you.”

  Mackenzie Martin nodded, looking scared, as her bright white blonde hair floated around her head. Owen didn’t see any blood in the strands, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t any.

  “Do you understand what happened to you? Do you remember anything about tonight?”

  The young woman nodded and tears welled in her eyes. “I remember being grabbed.” There was grit in her voice and a steely look in her brown eyes, despite the tears. “I know I was raped, but I decided I would remember him, because he’s not getting away with doing this to me.”

  “And what do you remember about your attacker? What did he look like?”

  “He was of average height, with a ring of brown hair, but I don’t remember his eye color, the drugs made my vision a bit hazy. He kept telling me that I’d like him now. That I’d be nice to him now, and that I’d be grateful for his attention. I didn’t understand what he meant though. I’d never give a creep like that the time of day. Uugghhh, and he touched me.”

  She bowed her head and Jenna plucked some tissues from a box and handed them to her. She grasped the woman’s hand and Clarice, the nurse assisting her, held her other. The nurse kept an eye on their patient while Jenna asked more questions.

  “Do you remember any odd smells?”

  “Yes, I remember he smelled like chemicals. I know this because I’m working on my unknown for organic chemistry class and he smelled like my friend’s unknown.”

  “What did his voice sound like?”

  “It was a tenor, high. He almost sounded feminine. I remember I kept thinking I should have known his voice, but I couldn’t place it,” she answered.

  “How old do you think he was?” Jenna asked. McCully’s hand flew across the notepad in her hand, nearly in sync with him.

  “I’d say in his forties.”

  “What ethnicity?”

  “Caucasian.”

  Jenna continued with her questions and nearly every one met with a description that described William Brandan perfectly. Relieved at having caught their rapist, and thankful this latest victim hadn’t died, Owen made notes to himself and wrote down everything Ms. Martin said. He continued to be impressed with Jenna and her calm, collected questioning.

  By the time she finished asking questions, her patient looked worn and ragged. Jenna patted her hand and then joined him and McCully. “She’s not going to be safe here if William Brandan is the rapist. He has access to this area and could harm her.”

  “Yes, I’d thought of that. We’ll see if we can’t bring in some police officers to care for her.”

  But Jenna shook her head.

  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked.

  “Do you think this rapist is going to see a police officer and decide not to try out his drugs on one? I don’t think that’s safe.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “I think she needs to be moved to another hospital. One where our rapist wouldn’t have ready access to the patients. Or we could move her to the clinic. So long as we keep it quiet. I’ll tell Clarice that we’re moving her to a room and then we sneak her out to an ambulance. There’s a paramedic team here who’ll take her to the clinic and won’t say anything. That way we’ll know she’s safe,” Jenna said.

  “Yes, that’s probably the best scenario, so long as you don’t mind her being at the clinic,” Owen replied.

  “Remember Carrie Snyder? Her sister works at the clinic with me. We’re all committed to doing whatever we can to help. And this gives us a victory over this monster. It’s a small way we can keep an innocent victim safe,” Jenna said vehemently and Owen couldn’t help himself. He tipped her face up for a quick kiss.

  His phone rang so he dug it out of a pocket. He watched as Jenna reached for her phone to set her plan in place.

  “O’Maley.”

  “It’s Kendrick, we got a match on those fingerprints,” the voice said.

  “Let me guess, William
Brandan?”

  “Yeah, how’d you know?”

  “His newest victim just woke up and described him well enough that we suspected. Thanks, Kendrick. Make sure to let the Chief know?”

  “Gotcha. Bye,” he replied and hung up. Owen disconnected the call and dropped the phone into his pocket as he located McCully.

  “We’ve got to bring this guy in for questioning and then see if Ms. Martin can identify him. Let’s go,” he said.

  She patted her gun and nodded. They found Fred, told him what they were about and he agreed to wait for Jenna.

  “She said she might be a while yet, but I’ll stay with her,” he assured them before turning back to his computer.

  “What in the world does he do on that thing for hours on end?”

  “Same thing we do, basically, only he does it with his computer.”

  “Huh?”

  “He’s a computer detective. He can crack any system, find anything he wants. It’s incredible to watch him work if you can keep up with the screens. He’s helped us out quite frequently at the station,” Owen told her as they made their way down the hall.

  Owen asked for William Brandan’s whereabouts from the woman at the front desk but they were dismayed with her answer.

  “He’s on vacation. He won’t be back until next week.” That quickly she dismissed them and moved on to the person in line behind them.

  “On vacation, what’s that mean?” McCully groused beside him and he slanted a look at her.

  “It means we enlist Fred’s help pronto, and get ourselves back to the station. The Chief can start others looking for him. We’ll also visit him at his house.”

  “Ah. Understood.” She nodded and hastily covered a yawn.

  “We’ll head for his house as soon as we talk to Fred and we can call the Chief at home, he’s sure to be home by now.” He altered the game plan once he caught sight of the time.

  “Right,” she answered and trailed after him.

  They talked to Fred and Owen explained what he wanted. “I just need a money trail if he’s on vacation. Where has he been? What’s he been buying? Find out if he’s here in the area or in Aruba or wherever.”

  “Yeah, I can locate that info, give me a minute,” Fred said, staring at the screen in front of him. He bent down and pulled another laptop from his computer case and booted it up, still watching the screen in front of him. While they watched, he typed in some commands. McCully grew restless.

  Fred typed in more lines when his second laptop booted up and before they could blink, he had William Brandan’s credit card information up on the screen of the second laptop. “Is that legal?” McCully inquired behind him.

  He sent her a humorous look. “Yeah, if the police request that information. Fred does a lot of this type of work for us.”

  “Ah.” She turned and watched Fred working on his other project and blinked as he went through a series of screens too fast to read them.

  “Hello? How many headaches do you get in a day’s time?” she asked.

  “None, why?” Fred mumbled and kept clicking.

  Owen read the information from Brandan’s credit cards and discovered the man was still in the area. “Gotcha,” he said with satisfaction. “Come on, McCully, let’s nail him.” He copied the address from the credit card screen and waved a hand for her to follow him.

  She trotted after him, asking questions with every breath. He answered as many of them as he could, but kept walking. They had a suspect. Finally. And he wasn’t about to let this particular one escape.

  Jenna smiled at the ambulance driver, thankful they’d been so willing to cooperate, as usual. They helped her sneak Ms. Martin out of the hospital as inconspicuously as possible and wheeled her right into the ambulance with very few questions. This crew knew she worked with rape victims and therefore helped the cops. They also knew she had her reasons for transporting this newest victim. Little information passed between them, but she swore them to secrecy anyway. This team was an older one, they had been together a long time and knew when it was necessary to bend the rules.

  She called the security guard station at the clinic and informed the guard who answered that an ambulance would be arriving shortly and to be ready. She also called the doctor on call, to go and help out. As luck would have it, the woman was good friends with Carrie Snyder’s sister, Tina, and when told the game plan, was more than willing to aid them. She promised to meet the ambulance and would remain with Ms. Martin throughout the night.

  Feeling like she had worked for eight days in a row, Jenna watched the ambulance until the lights disappeared before making her way back to where she left Fred and the detectives. She felt a twinge of regret when she noticed the detectives were nowhere to be found.

  “What happened to Owen and TJ?” she asked a preoccupied Fred.

  “They left,” he informed her very helpfully.

  “I gathered that.”

  “They got a fingerprint, and combined with your victim’s description, they believe William Brandan is the culprit. So they left to interview him.”

  At least that was more helpful. “They went this late at night?” Jenna asked, surprised. It was nearing ten o’clock.

  “Yeah, this is probably the best time to go. He’s most likely to be at home right now.”

  “Oh,” she said weakly.

  “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, I’m definitely ready,” she replied. Thinking of her bed. And wishing a certain detective would occupy it with her again tonight. Fat chance, she knew, but a girl could always hope.

  Fred saved the information glowing on both computers before shutting both and sliding them into his bag. He shouldered the bag, dug out his keys and turned to her with a cocked brow. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she said picking up her purse and followed him out into the parking lot. He unlocked the doors and they slid in. She noticed him scanning every which way in the parking lot. He certainly seemed to be aware of his surroundings at all times, she noticed. Hmmm.

  O shook him awake later that night, and Fred swiped a hand across his face, as the last vestiges of sleep left him. “What?”

  “McCully and I went to Brandan’s house. No one opened the door, but the little loser was there. I’m sure he saw MCully. She’s a redhead, and he likes them. I’d feel better if you were upstairs with her. I want all of us up there.”

  “Want me to take the first watch?”

  “No, I don’t think that’s necessary. He won’t go for any of our women if he sees us. I think your presence alone in the bed with her is going deter this loser, should he come after McCully.”

  “I’m there,” Fred said, crawling out of bed to find a pair of shorts. He scooped up his laptop and made for the door a few moments later. “Where are you going to be?” he asked as an afterthought as he grabbed his phone.

  “I’ll be across the hall in Jenna’s room. Matthews will be in Coulihan’s. I just don’t like the idea of us downstairs tonight when the women are upstairs.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  O shoved a hand through his hair.

  “Just to warn you. If the little freak so much as makes eyes at TJ, I plan to shoot him, close range,” Fred said in what he thought was a fairly affable voice.

  “I don’t think he’ll try, but try to contain yourself. That’s a lot more paperwork than I want to deal with,” O replied, his eyes gleaming in the dark and Fred got the impression O felt the same way. Should the slimeball touch their women, O would put a bullet through Brandan where it’d do the most good and ask questions later. Since that was Fred’s plan, he approved.

  “I’ll try,” Fred said and with a wave, left the room. He couldn’t wait to get upstairs, but he paused to ask another question. “What kind of weapon does she pack?”

  “A .48 semi-automatic. Maybe you should warn her you’re coming,” O suggested.

  “Nah, that takes all the fun out of it.” He took the stairs three and four at a time and t
urned to her bedroom door. He eased it open and padded silently across the floor. Setting his electronic devices down, he plugged in his laptop, booted it up and pulled up the program so he’d be able to see the cameras at each of the windows and doors. Lowering the screen so the light wouldn’t wake the sleeping woman, he set his phone down in easy reach on the nightstand and crawled into the bed.

  TJ’s nose wrinkled and then she stretched and rolled right to him. He opened his arms and whispered, “Gotcha,” to her as he folded her close. She snuggled closer and mumbled for him to shut up. With a grin, he felt sleep roar in and answered the summons.

  He woke the next morning to a small hand punching him. Cracking an eye open he stared balefully at the disgruntled woman encased in his arms. “What are you doing in my bed again?” she demanded in a sleep hoarse voice. Which on her was sexy as all get out.

  “O made me,” he said and rolled over, taking her with him. She bit off an exclamation and went along because she had to. Fred rather enjoyed the spill of her hair across his chest.

  “How’d he make you?” she asked suspiciously. Although he noticed she didn’t try to squirm away.

  “He woke me up at God only knows what time last night and told me to get my butt up here. Since he’s in charge, and knows what he’s doing, I decided not to give him any trouble,” Fred explained easily. He reached over and snagged the laptop. Resting the computer on her left shoulder, he opened the lid and clicked through a series of screens.

  “Doesn’t look like we had any action last night. It’s only 5:30 so we can go back to sleep.” He set the laptop back on the bedside table and tugged her closer.

  “5:30? What are you doing waking me at this hour?”

  “You woke me, if I remember correctly, and I do,” he said, rubbing his jaw before smothering a yawn.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s right. What are you doing in my bed again?”

  “Protection,” he mumbled and fell back asleep.

  Owen eased open Jenna’s bedroom door and slipped inside. He made his way across the floor and dropped his things on the nightstand before finding the covers. He slid into the bed and searched for the woman lying there.