Fully Committed

by Janie Crouch

  “What’s going on?”

  Zane came out of Caroline’s hospital room. “She woke up.”

  “Is she okay? Is she talking?” Sherry asked.

  Zane smiled for the first time since Sherry had arrived at the hospital. “She told me I needed to take a shower.”

  The man then covered his face and started crying.

  Sherry rushed up to put her arms around him. “She’s going to be okay, Zane. She’s awake. She’s going to be okay.”

  “I know. I’m all right.” He pulled himself together, then gave an embarrassed look at Jon. “Sorry.”

  “No need to apologize to me,” Jon said, slapping him on the back. “Tears aren’t weakness in a situation like this.”

  Jon knew Zane couldn’t handle any more kindness than that, Sherry realized. Jon’s ability to handle people maybe wasn’t such a bad thing, after all.

  “Caroline wants to talk to you two. She says she saw the man who attacked her.”

  As soon as the doctor let them through, they were by Caroline’s side.

  “Hey, sweetie,” Sherry said. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

  Caroline grimaced. “I’m not. It was much less painful when I was sleeping.” Her words were mushy from the swelling.

  “We’re going to up your pain medication, Caroline,” Dr. Rosemont said. “There’s no need for you to fight the pain right now. There will be plenty of time for that.”

  “Not yet,” Caroline said. She turned her face toward Sherry and Jon even though she probably couldn’t see out of either eye very well. “I saw him.”

  “That’s what Zane told us, honey. Do you remember anything?”

  “As soon as the door burst open, I knew what was happening. I knew I only had a second to get a look. I could see his fist coming toward me.”

  Caroline’s breathing became more labored.

  Dr. Rosemont took a step closer. “Let’s stop for right now, Caroline,” she said. “You can tell us this later.”

  “No, now.” Caroline was adamant.

  “Sweetie, we can wait.” Sherry leaned close and murmured, “It’s okay.”

  “No, you have to stop him now.” She took a breath. “I didn’t see his face because of the sunlight, but I did see his hair.”

  “His hair?” Sherry asked. “Tell me.” She wished she had her sketch pad, but she wasn’t about to leave to get it. She felt Jon put something in her hands. A notebook and pen.

  It wasn’t a sketch pad, but it was enough. Thank God for that man and his ability to see everything that was going on.

  “He had long blond hair,” Caroline whispered.

  Sherry glanced at Jon. He had the same confused look on his face.

  Long blond hair was weird. Or at the very least highly distinguishing, given the man’s dark skin.

  “Caroline, I don’t mean any offense by this, okay? But are you sure about the hair?” Sherry asked as gently as she could.

  Caroline tried to nod but then groaned in pain. “I know I saw his long blond hair lying against the side of his cheek when he turned to the side. Straight. Long—shoulder length. Yellow blond.”

  “Okay.” Sherry sketched out a picture, leaving the face blank but with straight hair flowing on the sides.

  “I knew what was going to happen. And I knew I had to keep this clear in my mind. It was the only way I could fight.” Caroline’s voice was getting weaker.

  The doctor gave Sherry and Jon a pointed look.

  “You did great, Caroline,” Jon reassured her. “We’re going to go now and get this info out to every officer in the city. You’ve done your job. You rest now.”

  “Okay.” Caroline’s voice was tiny. Heartbreaking.

  “I’m staying here with her,” Zane told them as they walked out. “Do you think her intel is correct?”

  Jon looked over at Sherry.

  She shrugged. “Memory is fragile. Contaminated within seconds. But Caroline was aware of what was happening, and is trained to be aware of what is going on around her. If she says the man had blond hair, I believe her.”

  “I do, too,” Jon agreed. “I’m going to have Sherry draw something up and, like I told Caroline, we’re going to get it out to every damn officer in the city.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Things moved faster than Jon could’ve dreamed. Especially now that the Corpus Christi PD had decided they were all on the same team. When he and Sherry arrived at the precinct, someone had already gotten all the materials out and ready for Sherry to draw her sketch. Sherry just sat and began working.

  She drew a composite sketch based on the details she had gathered from all the victims. She based the facial size on averages of men around five foot nine. Put in generic features based on his possible Latin American or Mexican heritage given the skin tones Jasmine Houze recognized. Then she added the long, straight blond hair.

  She handed it to Jon, shrugging. “It’s the best I can do with the info I have right now.”

  Jon looked at it. To be honest, he didn’t really think it was going to help. The features were too generic and the hair was too specific.

  But he was willing to try. So he showed it to Captain Harris and they sent it out electronically to every officer in the city. They agreed to wait to see what happened before putting the drawing on the news, knowing that would probably trigger the man to change his appearance if he hadn’t done so already.

  Under other circumstances the sketch might not have helped at all, but the locals were determined to find justice for Caroline. They were beating the pavement looking for the guy, working extra hours without pay for her.

  One uniformed officer—the man deserved a medal in Jon’s opinion—had gotten the sketch to his cousin who owned a chain of barbershops, feeling that the first thing someone like that would do was try to get rid of the identifiable hair.

  Two hours later they had a call. Someone matching the description had come in asking for a haircut.

  And he had tattoos on his arm.

  The barbers had been instructed to stall him for as long as possible without cutting his hair, but to begin to slowly cut it if it looked as though the guy would leave.

  Jon and Brandon had provided backup for the uniformed officers who had gone in to make the arrest.

  The suspect had been getting his hair washed by the barber at the time. It went down as one of the most bizarre arrests that Jon had ever seen.

  And just as Caroline had said, the man had long blond hair. He was around five-ten, a young, tanned punk who had dyed his hair blond to stand out; to be cool.

  Well, his need for cool was going to cost him the rest of his life in prison.

  He was confident, cocky. Playing off the whole thing as if he had no idea what they were arresting him for. Sending sly looks in Jon and Brandon’s direction.

  “He’s younger than I would’ve thought,” Brandon said.

  “Yeah, maybe we were dealing with a young, bored genius rather than someone established in a career,” Jon responded, watching the officers walk him out to the car in cuffs.

  Brandon shrugged. “That still works with the profile, I guess.”

  The skull on his arm was what had convinced them both. It wasn’t exactly what Jasmine Houze had described—there were diamonds drawn in the eye sockets rather than targets—but as Sherry had said, memories were fragile. Given the circumstances, Jasmine’s memory was pretty damn close.

  The smile the guy gave them was malicious to the core. Jon felt relieved to have him off the streets. He wanted to see if Captain Harris would let Jon talk to the guy; see what he could get out of him. The blond hair and tattoo were pretty damning, but a confession would be the best way to make sure he went to prison for a long time.

  * * *

&
nbsp; THEY’D GOTTEN HIM. The excitement around the station was palpable. Evidently the guy had been getting his hair washed at the time of the arrest, which made everyone snicker. It was important to look pretty on your way to jail.

  Jon had texted Sherry that he wanted to interview the suspect himself, which didn’t surprise her at all. And it was fine. Sherry wanted to let Caroline and Zane know the good news face-to-face.

  Maybe now Zane would be able to start forgiving himself.

  She knew processing and questioning the suspect would take a long time. She just jotted a note for Jon to let him know where she was going and left it at his desk rather than disturb him with a text. She ended it with “You, me, celebration tonight. Naked. So tell Brandon to make other plans.”

  She folded it and wrote his name on the outside. Somebody might read it, but Sherry no longer cared if anyone knew about her and Jon.

  Of course, he would be heading back to Colorado soon, now that the case was finished. Sherry wasn’t going to think about that right now. Right now she wanted to share the good news about the arrest with her friends.

  Caroline was sleeping, but they woke her to tell her. She tried to stay awake to talk to them about it but couldn’t manage.

  “She has a long path to recovery,” Sherry told Zane.

  Zane nodded. “Yeah, but catching that bastard was a big step.”

  “Let’s just hope he confesses. That would make everything easier when they go to prosecute.”

  They talked for a few more minutes before Sherry stood to get back to the station.

  Zane stopped her. “Sherry, do you mind going by Caroline’s house and picking up a few things for her? You know, stuff that might make her feel more comfortable here? A gown and whatnot. I don’t want to leave her.”

  She touched Zane’s arm. “Sure. That’s a really great idea. I’ll just need to borrow your car.”

  “No problem. And her house is still a crime scene, so don’t go near the front door area.” Sherry could tell he had difficulty just forming the words.

  Zane dragged some keys out of his pocket. “Here’re the keys to my SUV and Caroline’s back door. If there’s a uniformed officer there, just have him call me for clearance.”

  Sherry drove to Caroline’s house and got inside, avoiding the front hallway area altogether. She got the items she thought her friend would want—some pajamas and other clothes, her own pillow, the book on the bedside table—and put them inside Zane’s SUV.

  The big yellow Do Not Cross tape at Caroline’s front door was difficult to look at. Sherry wondered if Caroline would ever be able to live here again.

  Sherry decided it was time for her to face her own crime scene of a house. Although Jon had gotten her some of her own clothes, she hadn’t been back there yet herself.

  It was time to face that so she could move on. Better to do it now without an audience, even though she knew Jon would gladly have come with her. If she was going to have a breakdown again, she wanted to do it on her own.

  She decided to walk. Her house was only a few blocks away if she walked along the shoreline. She took off her shoes and rolled up her jeans.

  Sherry breathed in the heavy air of the storm that would be rolling in in the next couple of hours. The waves were crashing higher and the beach was empty of almost everyone. Just how Sherry liked it. She smiled at a couple she passed as they strolled hand in hand, enjoying the roughness of the weather just as she was.

  Now that the case was winding up, she and Jon had things to talk about, decisions to be made. Their relationship was something special, she knew. Something real. And she knew Jon felt the same thing. He had mentioned the possibility of her working for the Omega Sector: Critical Response Division more than once.

  It did sound as if she might be a better fit there. That her needs would be considered in a way they hadn’t been at the Bureau office. And of course...Jon. She couldn’t help smiling at the thought.

  Another brave walker came toward her as she was about to make the turn off the beach for the road leading to the house. She smiled and waved when she realized it was handsome Dr. Trumpold from the hospital, the source of all Jon’s jealously.

  “Hi, Sherry,” he said, smiling as he passed her.

  Sherry was shocked he knew her name. Wait until she lorded this over Jon’s head. She smiled at the thought.

  But the truth was, no matter how handsome or successful Dr. Trumpold was, he still was no Jon Hatton.

  She turned around for one last glance of the handsome doctor. He had stopped about fifty yards from her to look out at the sea. A gust of wind picked up and he slipped on the hood of the yellow sweatshirt he was wearing.

  From this angle, the hood made Trumpold look like Fabio. As if he had long blond—

  Sherry felt her stomach drop as a chill that had nothing to do with the wind settled over her. She suddenly knew that whoever Jon had arrested today was the wrong guy.

  Caroline hadn’t seen blond hair in the quick glance she’d gotten of her attacker, although Sherry could very easily see why she would think so. What her friend had seen was the hood of a yellow sweatshirt pulled on the rapist’s head.

  Dr. Trumpold’s head.

  He turned and looked at Sherry, his smile eerily friendly.

  Sherry dropped her shoes and ran toward her house, knowing he was following her.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It didn’t take Jon and Brandon long in the interview room to figure out they had the wrong guy.

  He was a punk, no doubt, with attitude to match his ridiculous hair. But someone with a high IQ, not to mention an understanding of how forensics worked so he didn’t leave behind any DNA? Definitely not this guy.

  And his hands certainly didn’t match the profile. No swelling, no bruising, no marks whatsoever. Jon supposed that he could’ve used something else to inflict the extensive damage on Caroline, but she had mentioned his fist, so Jon didn’t think so.

  Jon wouldn’t be surprised if this guy was guilty of a number of crimes, but he was not the monster who had committed the rapes.

  They talked to him for a few more minutes, then left.

  “Damn it.” Jon considered attempting to put a fist through the cement wall, but he knew the wall would win.

  “There’s no way that is the guy,” Brandon agreed, his frustration clear. “They’ll run DNA. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s not responsible for some other crimes.”

  “I’ve got to talk to the captain, let him know. Based on my experience, that’s not going to be pretty.”

  Brandon nodded. “Yeah, as hard as it is, we don’t want people letting down their guard, thinking everything is safe if it’s not.”

  Jon felt as if a hundred pounds had been placed on his shoulders. An arrest in this case, giving the people of Corpus Christi what they needed to feel safe, justice for Caroline and Jasmine and Tina and the other women... Jon had known he wanted to do that, but he’d had no idea how much he’d needed to.

  Right now he needed to put his arms around Sherry. Just breathe her in.

  He should be surprised by how much that need seemed to trump everything else but he wasn’t. Although he would give anything to have it the other way around, at least arresting the wrong guy meant he had a few more days with her here. Days he’d be spending trying to convince her to move to Colorado Springs and take that job at Omega.

  The captain could wait five minutes. Jon needed to see Sherry.

  It didn’t take long for him to find her note. He smiled. No, they wouldn’t be celebrating tonight, but he still planned for there to be nakedness.

  “What’s that smile about?” Brandon asked.

  “Nothing,” Jon said. “Sherry. She went to see Caroline. Telling Zane and Caroline the news about this guy is going to be just as hard a
s telling Captain Harris.”

  “How about if I talk to the captain and you go tell them? Face-to-face might be better.”

  Jon agreed and tried calling Sherry on the way to the hospital, but it went to her voice mail. When he walked inside and found she wasn’t with Zane and Caroline a little feeling of panic set in. He and Zane went out into the hallway to talk.

  “I asked Sherry to go pick up some stuff for Caroline, to make her feel more comfortable,” Zane said. “I gave her a key for the back door so she wouldn’t disturb the crime scene in any way, although Forensics is done there.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

  He tried Sherry’s number again. Voice mail. He left a message this time.

  “Hi, baby, it’s me. It’s very important that you call me the second you get this message, okay?”

  “Jon, what’s going on?”

  “The suspect we have in custody is not the right guy, Zane.” Jon put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was really hoping he was the one.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive. I’m sorry,” Jon repeated, knowing the words weren’t enough.

  Zane’s curse was ugly. Jon couldn’t agree more.

  Jon’s phone buzzed in his hand. Sherry. Relief coursed through him. “Hey, where are you?”

  “Jon.”

  He could barely understand her over her labored breathing.

  “He’s right outside. I know he’s going to kill me.”

  Jon was running down the hallway toward his car before she got to the second sentence.

  * * *

  SHERRY WASTED NO time running as fast as she could toward her house. If she was wrong and Dr. Trumpold wasn’t the rapist, she would apologize profusely later.

  But she knew she wasn’t wrong. Too much of it made sense. He knew her, knew she was helping the police. And he was definitely smart enough to try to get away with it, as Jon and Brandon had profiled.

  She had a good fifty-yard head start on him and knew that her survival depended on her reaching her house before he caught her. She yelled for help as she ran, but the wind drowned out her voice.