by Janie Crouch
The other man’s face turned an odd shade of red. “Nobody could get any results from those women. Not a single one of them saw anything or is willing to even try to remember. I’d like to see you do any better.”
Jon felt Sherry look over at him and he tightened his grip on her waist before turning back to Spangler. “Sherry’s already done better. After talking to one of the victims only once, she was able to help her remember something she saw.”
“Beginner’s luck,” Spangler snorted.
Sherry stepped away from Jon’s arm, closer to Spangler. “I’m not a beginner and I stand by my track record. As you will have to stand by yours, whatever that is.” Her voice didn’t rise, but her shoulders straightened, which made her almost the same height as Spangler. “I don’t need to have decades of experience to know that belittling a woman who has just been horribly assaulted is not only bad police work, but would make me a bad person in general. I’m sorry you’re near retirement and still haven’t figured that out.”
She turned from both of them and began walking down the hallway toward the exit.
Jon had to force himself not to laugh out loud at the look on Spangler’s face. He shrugged at the older man and turned to chase after Sherry, catching her after just a few steps.
“Way to let him have it,” he said.
She balled one hand up into a fist. “I was afraid I was going to punch him. What an utter jackass.”
He took her fist and began rubbing the knuckles, smiling. “Well, I’m pretty sure your words had a bigger impact than your fist would have. He would’ve just had you arrested for assaulting an officer.”
“Hey, you guys.” Zane Wales walked over to them, a file in hand. “I just wanted to give you an update on the tattoo drawing you provided.”
“Anything interesting?” Jon asked.
“It’s not gang related, at least not of any gang we know of. We’re checking local tattoo shops to see if anyone happens to remember doing any tattoos like this. Unfortunately there’re so many places in Mexico someone can go to get ink, it may not have been someone local.”
“Okay,” Jon said. “Thanks for letting us know.”
“This is at least progress,” Zane said, turning to Sherry. “It’s the first breakthrough we’ve had at all. Thank you for working with the victim.”
Sherry nodded. “I’m glad I could help at least that little bit.”
Zane tilted his head in the direction of where they’d just had their discussion with Spangler. “You both should watch your back. Spangler is not going to take very well to the comeuppance you just gave him in front of everyone.”
“He started it,” Sherry said.
“Yeah, but he won’t see it that way,” Zane said then looked at Jon. “He’s close to retirement, and I was protecting him the other day by not confirming what really happened. That probably wasn’t the right call, and I’m sorry.”
Jon shrugged. “These are your people. Believe it or not, I do understand that. My job here is not to insinuate that the department is inept. My sole purpose is to help you catch this rapist.”
“Yeah, I’m beginning to see that. Hopefully the rest of the team will come around soon, too.” He grimaced. “But Spangler won’t. Especially not now. So be careful.”
“Spangler isn’t going to be the one who cracks open this case,” Jon said to the younger man.
Zane nodded. “I’ll get right on this tattoo.”
“Sherry’s going to be interviewing the victims again over the next couple of days to see if there’s anything she can get that was missed before.” Jon didn’t assign blame. Perhaps there wasn’t anything Spangler missed.
“Okay. I wouldn’t announce that to Spangler or the captain, for that matter.” Zane shrugged. “Easier to ask forgiveness than permission in this situation.”
Jon chuckled. “Well, I don’t need their permission, but I agree with you. We’ll have to use the station, but we’ll keep this to ourselves as much as possible.”
“Sounds good.” Zane turned to Sherry and touched the brim of the cowboy hat always on his head. “Ma’am.”
Sherry smiled at him.
Damn it, Jon was going to have to get one of those blasted hats if it meant Sherry would smile at him like that.
She turned to him. “What?”
“Nothing,” he muttered. Damn cowboy hats.
A couple of hours later after taking her to another of his newfound favorite places to eat—Sherry laughingly telling him that she was glad he had made friends with the waitresses, since he definitely hadn’t made any friends in the police department—Jon drove her back to her place. A storm had come up, so he drove slowly through the rain.
Out of the station, both of them had relaxed and just enjoyed each other’s company. The more he was around Sherry, the more he wanted to be around her.
But, damn it, he knew this still wasn’t the time. Their working relationship was too new. She needed to know she could trust him to look out for her best interests professionally while they were working on this case.
He rushed around and opened the car door for her and quickly walked her up the steps to her door, covered by a small awning.
“I’ll come by and get you tomorrow morning, okay? I’ve got a call in to victim number one to see if she can come in first thing tomorrow.”
She looked at him for a long time as if she was searching for something. Thunder finally crashed and she looked away.
“That’s fine,” Sherry murmured, unlocking her door and opening it.
Her look—whatever it was, he couldn’t quite figure it out—concerned him. “You okay? Nervous about tomorrow? I know it’s daunting, but I’m going to be there with you one hundred percent of the—”
His words were cut off by Sherry’s lips against his.
A few seconds later he couldn’t think of words at all. Could only give in to the heat between them.
She smelled impossibly good.
She tasted even better.
Jon tended to be the one who took the lead in almost all aspects of his life, sexual pursuits included, but he had no problem leaning back against the door frame as Sherry pushed him there. His hands encircled her hips and brought her up close to him. He groaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck, fisting his hair in her hands. They were drowning in the kiss.
Using every ounce of mental energy he had, Jon eased back just slightly. He wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t using her. “Sherry, I just want to make sure—”
“Jon,” she murmured against his mouth. “Shut. Up. You think too much. Just kiss me.”
It was all the permission Jon needed. He spun them around so that she was flat against the door frame, cupped her face with both hands and took possession of her mouth. Fire ignited as he stroked his tongue against hers.
Both of them moaned, straining to bring their bodies closer together.
Jon reached down and wrapped his arms around her hips, picking her up without breaking the kiss. He walked them through the door, kicking it closed behind them.
He didn’t know where her bed was, and didn’t care. The farthest he was going to make it was the couch five feet away. He lowered them both down, loving the feel of her arms and legs wrapped around him.
The storm raged on in the distance, second only to the storm of passion between them.
Chapter Fifteen
Sherry woke up warm for the first time in as long as she could remember.
Not just warm. Hot.
That was perhaps because of the very large man wrapped nearly all the way around her, his chest to her back. One of his arms was stretched out under her neck, between her shoulder and the pillow, and the other was tucked around her waist, keeping her close to him. They had slept that way all night.
At least they had once they’d made it to the bed, finally, hours later than they’d arrived on the couch.
Sherry was never going to be able to look at the couch again the same way. Heck, she was never going to be able to look at the bed the same way, either. She was glad she was the only one who ever used this house. Even though they owned it, her parents hadn’t vacationed here since she was a child.
She’d never be able to enter this house again without thinking of Jon Hatton.
Who was now beginning to stir behind her.
“Good morning,” he murmured as he nuzzled her neck then bit it gently. Chills that had nothing to do with cold ran through Sherry’s body.
“Good morning to you, too,” she whispered back.
“As much as I would like to stay here all day with you, we have Tina Wescott coming in at 9:00 a.m.”
She turned so she could face him. “I’m still not sure about my drawing ability.”
Sherry’s biggest fear was that they would bring this poor woman in to the station, ask her to recount all the details of the worst day of her entire life, that she would remember something—some feature or characteristic of her attacker—and that Sherry wouldn’t be able to draw it.
He used his thumb to rub her forehead, ease the worry lines between her brows. “You drew me on the beach the other day.”
“Yeah, but that was different. I wasn’t thinking about it.”
“Either way, the drawing ability is still there. You haven’t lost it. You’ve just got to figure out how to harness that part of your mind and shut out the other.”
Sherry nodded, but she had no idea how to do that.
“We’ll just take it one minute at a time. Try not to concentrate on the big picture, literally and figuratively, just on what you’re doing at that very minute.”
It was good advice and similar to the advice she had given herself before. “Baby steps.”
“Exactly.” He kissed her. “Now let’s go out and get some breakfast so we can get to the station on time.”
“Okay, I’m going to take a shower.” She got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. “Someone has kept me in bed, participating in naughty deeds all night.” She giggled as his hand streaked out and smacked her on the bottom.
“Wasn’t just on the bed,” he murmured.
In the bathroom her smiled faded. She turned on the shower, then turned and looked at herself in the mirror, leaning her hands on the bathroom counter. She really was afraid of failing. Failing Jon, failing the victim, failing herself.
The bathroom door opened and Jon came to stand behind her. He kissed the top of her shoulder, looking at her in the mirror.
“Whatever happens, we’ll get through it together,” he whispered in her ear.
“Okay.”
“Right now, a shower.”
“Only if you’ll join me.” She smiled at him, turning around.
“What about breakfast? I want to make sure you have the energy you need.”
She put a hand on his chest, walking forward and backing him toward the shower. “I’ll eat a huge bowl of cereal.”
He reached behind him and opened the shower door. Steam flooded around them. “As long as it’s healthy cereal,” he said as he pulled her up against him hard.
Every thought in her head seemed to vanish as he moved them both under the hot spray of the shower. As he’d said, she’d just take it one minute at a time. This minute especially.
* * *
“FOR THE RECORD, those Sugar-O’s do not count as healthy cereal,” Jon said as they sat in the Corpus Christi interview room an hour later, waiting for Tina Wescott to arrive.
“I was afraid you would stop if I told you what it was,” she whispered.
“Honey, I had you naked in a steamy shower. You could’ve told me we were eating snails for breakfast and I wouldn’t have stopped.”
“Snails probably would’ve had more nutritional value.” Sherry laughed softly.
Jon was glad to see the pinched look leave her face at least for a few moments. Despite the comfortable room temperature, she was huddling into her denim jacket and rubbing her hands as if to encourage circulation.
He sat next to her and took her hands in his. They did feel icy.
“Hey,” he said. “Remember, one minute at a time. Baby steps. Just ask questions, don’t worry about drawing.”
Her sketch pad was sitting in front of them on the table. Jon noticed she hadn’t touched it once. He wanted to help her, but drawing wasn’t something he could do. Unless he was willing to turn the heat up and sweat everyone else to death, he couldn’t help her much with the cold, either.
Tina Wescott entered the room and Jon greeted her and introduced Sherry. He was concerned for just a moment that Sherry wouldn’t be able to get it together enough to talk to the other woman but then watched as she mentally pulled herself up by her bootstraps.
“Hi, Tina.” Sherry shook her hand. “I’m so sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”
Tina had been the first person attacked nine weeks ago. For more than a month her rape had been treated as an isolated incident. It was only after the fourth victim that the police department had realized they were dealing with one single attacker.
Sherry made a little small talk with Tina, about the weather, about Texas A&M’s lineup for next season’s football team—Sherry hadn’t been kidding when she’d said Texas was all about football. The two women could talk more intelligently about A&M’s offensive line than Jon could talk about most of the pro teams he followed.
They were still talking about the new quarterback who was coming in when there was a knock on the conference room door. Before Jon could even get over to answer it, it opened and Spangler breezed in. Zane Wales entered behind him, his expression apologetic.
“Mind if we sit in?” Spangler asked. “More heads are better than one, right?”
The rapport Sherry had been building with Tina was instantly lost. The last thing Jon wanted to do was to make it worse by having it out with Spangler right there.
Jon looked over at Tina, “Is it okay with you if they stay?”
“Sure.” Tina shrugged. “That’s fine.”
Jon wished she had told them to get lost, but he didn’t blame her for wanting all the help she could get. “If at any point you’re feeling too crowded, we can definitely thin out the room. Don’t be afraid to say something.”
“I haven’t remembered anything else,” Tina told them, looking down at her hands.
“That’s fine,” Sherry said. “I’m just trying to piece together any little bits you or any of the other women remember. Perhaps together, that can give us a clearer picture of the whole.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just going to warn the officers in here not to interrupt. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” She looked pointedly at Frank Spangler.
“I’m just here to observe.” He held out his hands in front of him in a gesture of innocence.
“Great,” Sherry said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Observing doesn’t require any talking. And maybe you’ll learn something.”
Jon coughed to keep from laughing. Spangler glared at Sherry but didn’t say anything, just crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. Zane smiled next to the older man, but was sure not to let him see. Tina didn’t seem to notice the tension at all.
Sherry grabbed her sketch pad and opened it without hesitating, obviously something she’d done multiple times before. Good. She was focusing on her annoyance with Spangler, not on freezing up. He might have come in to try to make her feel uncomfortable or to intimidate her, but it was working to her advantage instead.
“Tell me what the weather was like on the day of your attack,” Sherry said softly to Tina.
/> For the next three hours Jon listened as Sherry talked to Tina, often asking her questions that seemed irrelevant. Such as the weather question she’d started with or questions about what had been on the radio that day.
Then Jon realized Sherry was attempting to involve as many of Tina’s five senses as she could. Any of them might trigger a memory of something Tina hadn’t realized she knew.
Sherry’s cognitive interviewing skills matched any Jon had ever seen at Omega Sector or any other law-enforcement group he had worked with. She had a gift. It was easy to see that Tina felt comfortable with her and was willing to answer questions.
Over and over Sherry backed Tina up to about an hour before the attack and had her walk through that time period. It helped Tina’s mind to refocus on that day without actually having to concentrate on the attack itself. Then each time Sherry took Tina a little further into the attack, so that she didn’t have to describe the entire brutal event all at once.
Baby steps.
Even with Sherry’s calm, measured method of asking questions as they got into the heart of Tina’s attack, Jon could easily see the toll it was taking on both women. Tina was crying. Sherry was nestling into her jacket.
Although Tina hadn’t given her any details to draw, Sherry still had the pencil in her hand. Glancing over at her, he could see her attempt to keep her hand from shaking.
“Okay, Tina, last time, I promise,” Sherry said, a slight tremor noticeable. “Let’s focus on when you opened the door.”
Tina took a shuddery breath. “The doorbell rang. I was irritated because I couldn’t find the remote to pause my TV show. I was trying to hurry. That’s why I didn’t check the window, like I normally would have.”
“That’s right. I’m sure that’s true,” Sherry assured her, trying to keep her focused on the memory itself rather than what she could’ve done differently.
“I was still listening to the show as I opened the door, so I wouldn’t miss anything.” More tears flowed down Tina’s face. Zane slid a box of tissues to within her reach in case she wanted them. “When the door was ajar just a crack, he slammed it all the way open. I stumbled back a step and he hit me.”
