by C. A. Mason
“She didn’t reject me.” I drew a deep breath. We’d covered this already, but he obviously wasn’t satisfied. He hoped to trip me up, thought I’d get confused with my lies. But I was telling the truth. “I saw her slow dancing with her ex-boyfriend. I got pissed. We argued. That’s what people saw.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to believe Maura Lancaster was slumming with you?”
Maura’s family owned half the town, and she’d been bred for success. Class oozed from her pores, and everyone knew her name.
“I don’t care what you believe. It’s the truth.”
“Fine, let’s assume I believe you,” he said, looking amused. “How did you say you met again?”
I clenched my teeth, wondering how many times I would have to repeat the same story. “I was part of a crew working on the pool house at her family’s estate.”
“Right, and how long have you been seeing each other?”
“A few months.” It felt like a lot longer. She’d confided in me, and I’d told her things I’d never shared with anyone. Once the masks came off in the bedroom, we were free to be ourselves. After rounds of exhausting sex, we’d lie in my bed and talk for hours. She told me what it was like growing up in a privileged family, and I told her what it was like being the son of a cop.
“I like your old man,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s a damn fine cop.”
I was surprised by the shift in conversation. I knew he was changing tactics, playing another card to try to get me to open up. I wouldn’t take the bait, but my stomach lurched at the mention of my father. A part of him had died the day we lost my kid brother. This accusation would put the final nail in his coffin.
“I hate to think what this will do to him. He mentioned you’re into fighting. Mixed martial arts, isn’t it?” He chuckled as though we were old friends sharing war stories over a beer. “How’d you get into that?”
“I got tired of being arrested for street fighting.” I wasn’t kidding, and he knew it. “This way I can beat the shit out of someone and go home to my own bed at night. It’s a win-win.”
He smirked. “Except for the guys you take out.” He raised an eyebrow. “I watched some of your fights online. You’re merciless.”
“I don’t step in there to lose.” I cracked my battered knuckles. “Winning’s the only option.” There was always money on the line, but my undefeated record had more to do with my pride than the paycheck.
“I hear ya.”
Before the detective could say more, a suit walked in and sized me up before he sat with a heavy sigh. “I hope you weren’t harassing my client, Jones. We’ve been down that road before, haven’t we?”
Instead of appearing intimidated, the cop smiled. “No, we were just making small talk. Coop’s old man is one of our own. He and I go way back. Isn’t that right, Matt?”
I cringed at his use of my first name. Only my parents and Maura called me by my given name. To the rest of the world, I was just Coop. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with my lawyer, Detective.”
“Sure.” He stood, collecting his recorder and file. “But don’t worry, we’ll be seeing each other again real soon.”
“Okay,” the suit said, sliding a business card across the table. “Name’s Michael Rhodes. You wanna tell me how the hell you got into this mess?”
“A girl—”
“Isn’t it always?” He twisted his lips, looking as if he’d just bit into something sour. “Don’t mind me. Ex-wife’s giving me a hard time about visitation.”
I thought about reminding him I had bigger problems, but it wouldn’t do any good. He didn’t want to be here any more than I did. “My girlfriend was raped. They think I did it.”
“Hmmm, so I hear.” He opened his briefcase and extracted a pair of glasses. “Seems they’re trying to pin more than that on you, but maybe you’d better start by telling me about the girl.”
I recited the same story I’d told the detective. “I’m sure Maura will tell them the truth once-”
“That’s part of the problem. She’s not sure who attacked her. She said the man was wearing a black ski mask. He jumped her while she was trying to hail a cab.”
I swallowed, acid burning my mouth. God, this is my fault. I lived in a seedy neighborhood. I knew it wasn’t safe for her to be on the streets by herself at that time of night. With or without pants, I should have gone after her.
“What’s wrong?” Rhodes asked. “You look a little pale. Something you want to tell me?”
“She was leaving my place. Did she tell you that?”
“I haven’t spoken to her. I just read the report. She said she was leaving a friend’s place.”
“I was the friend.” But I was so much more than that.
“Interesting.” He pushed a pen through his fingers, making an annoying clicking sound against the table. “This young woman, she comes from a very prominent family. She’s a college student, isn’t she?”
“Yeah, so?”
Checking a file, he said, “She’s a few years younger than you.”
“She’s legal, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
He rubbed a hand over the scruff on his chin. “Still, her parents may not be happy when they find out about this. You think that may be the reason she’s trying to pin this on you, because she doesn’t want her to parents to find out she was with you voluntarily?”
“Pin it on me?” I knew my brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders due to exhaustion, but surely he hadn’t meant to imply Maura was blaming me. “She said I did this?”
“She says she doesn’t know who did it.”
“Then what makes you think she’s pointing the finger at me?”
“Her parents are in the interrogation room with a detective now. They’re trying to convince the police you’re the only logical suspect.”
“And she’s going along with that?” I raked my hands through my hair, wanting to rip it out by the roots. No way could the woman who’d told me she loved me a few nights ago be accusing me of rape now. “I don’t believe it. Maura wouldn’t do that. We’re tight.” I glared at him, daring him to challenge me. “Real tight.”
“All I know is that her parents have a lot of pull in this town. They’re determined to make someone pay for this, and it looks like you’re their man.”
“But I’m not!” If it was my word against theirs, I was screwed. “Did they find anything else when they did the rape kit? Anyone else’s…” God, I couldn’t even say the word. I couldn’t stomach the thought of someone violating Maura.
“Semen?” He shook his head. “No, but according to the victim’s account, he wore a condom.”
“Which proves it wasn’t me. I didn’t use condoms with her.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Pretty stupid, don’t you think? Weren’t you worried about pregnancy or STDs?”
I hated discussing my sex life with a man I wouldn’t have given a stick of gum to on the subway, but I had no choice. “She didn’t want me to use condoms. She was on the pill. We’re clean.” I shrugged. “It made her happy.” Who was I kidding? Bareback had been a long-time fantasy of mine, and Maura knew it.
“I see.” He scribbled in his file before looking at me. “I may be able to defend you against the other charges; the evidence is circumstantial.” He sighed. “But this Lancaster case is going to be more difficult, maybe impossible. They have solid evidence and once the DNA tests come back, I’m guessing the prosecutor will consider it a slam-dunk.”
“This is crazy.” I felt as if I was getting sucked into the bowels of hell, and no one could pull me out. “I didn’t rape, kidnap, or murder anyone. I don’t know what the hell they’re talking about.”
“Apparently the Lancaster case fits a profile. A man wearing a ski mask has been preying on women in your neighborhood. He abducts them, rapes them, then slits their throats, barely taking the time to hide their body. He’s cocky. He doesn’t think he’ll get caught. Or maybe he w
ants to get caught.” Rhodes looked at me as though he was testing me.
I knew I would fail if I lunged across the table and squeezed his throat until his beady little eyes bulged out of his head, so I refrained myself. Barely. “I’ve read about it in the papers, but if you think I’m their guy, you’re as crazy as they are.”
Rhodes continued to size me up, obviously trying to gauge whether I was lying. “Still, it begs the question, why would you let your girlfriend leave your apartment alone at”—he consulted his file—“two o’clock in the morning? Weren’t you concerned for her safety?”
“We were fighting,” I said, leaning forward. My voice was dangerously low. I hoped the suit could tell I’d been pushed to my limit. If one more person accused me of violence, they would see evidence of it. “She ran out before I had a chance to stop her.”
“So you just let her go?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” I pushed my chair back, not trusting myself to be so close to him without going for his jugular. Rhodes was supposed to be on my side, but he was making it clear he wasn’t buying my story any more than the detective had. “I didn’t have any clothes on, all right? By the time I got dressed and outside, she was already gone. I assumed she’d grabbed a cab and headed home. I may have made it downstairs in time, but I got into it with my neighbour. He can corroborate that.” Every time I thought about what had happened to her while I was supposed to keep her safe, I got enraged all over again.
Rhodes glanced at my battered hand. “How’d that happen?”
The detective had asked the same question. “Like I said, we were fighting. I got pissed and put my fist through the wall. Go to my apartment, and you’ll find all the evidence you need to back up my story.”
Before Rhodes could respond, someone knocked on the door.
“That might be about your case,” he said. “If they don’t have enough to press charges, they can’t hold you.”
“But you think they do, don’t you?” My heart was hammering, and I knew when he refused to meet my eyes, the person on the other side of the door was likely a cop with cuffs and shackles. “You think they’re going to arrest me?”
My father, Sergeant Matthew Cooper Sr., poked his head in the door, looking older and wearier than he had just days before.
“Dad.”
God, he couldn’t even look at me. He thought I did this. “Counselor, would you mind giving me a minute alone with my son, please?”
“In an official capacity?” Rhodes asked, eyeing his decorated uniform.
“Get the hell out of here,” I snarled. “I need to talk to my father.”
The old man had been my hero for as long as I could remember, and I’d disappointed him more times than I could count. I dropped out of high school for a spell when I was fifteen, started drinking and experimenting with drugs, built a rap sheet with a slew of assault charges, and took a construction job when he pleaded with me to go to college instead. My kid brother may have stolen a piece of my father’s heart when he died, but I continued to break it over and over again.
My father waited for the lawyer to pack up and leave before he sank into the chair across from me. His piercing, light blue eyes, so much like mine, filled with tears. “Tell me it isn’t true, Mattie. Please. Tell me they’ve got it all wrong.”
My father would rather sever a limb than let anyone see him cry, so his show of emotion gutted me. I’d done that to him. I’d fucked up again, and he was the one paying the price.
“I’ve been seeing Maura for a few months,” I said, hanging my head. I’d never told my parents about her because I knew they’d warn me against getting mixed up with those people. My parents were working class through and through, and experience had taught them to be wary of the filthy rich. Maybe they were right. Maybe Maura had been playing me all along.
My father scrubbed his hands over his face. “I was hoping you’d tell me you’ve never seen that girl before in your life.”
Obviously he hadn’t heard the whole story, and I hated to be the one to tell him. “Dad, they have evidence.” I took a shaky breath, unable to keep my emotions in check. Fearlessness had been drilled into me by my trainer, but I was scared out of my mind. “My semen was inside her when they did the rape kit.” As my father lowered his head in defeat, I rushed to say, “But it was consensual. I swear to God, I didn’t rape her.”
“You know how bad this looks.” His voice shook as he ran a hand over his thick silver hair. “And with her parents’ connections, I don’t know how the hell we’re gonna fight this.”
My parents would do anything for me, but I sure as hell wouldn’t let them put their reputations on the line for me. I’d made this mess by acting like a jealous idiot and driving Maura out into the street. I just had to find a way to clean it up.
Detective Jones returned and gave my father a remorseful look as he unhooked his handcuffs. “I hate like hell to do this, Searg, but the D.A.’s office is ready to press charges.”
My stunned gaze locked with my father’s. I knew the terror in his eyes was mirrored in my own. I was really going down for this. I felt as if I was frozen in the path of a train, and I didn’t have the strength or sense to jump out of the way in time.
The detective hauled me to my feet and cuffed me as he read my rights and the charges against me. When the words “first-degree murder” echoed around the small room, I watched my father’s world collapse around him.
“Oh God,” Dad said, his chin trembling. “They think you’re the Thriller Killer, don’t they? They think you raped and murdered all those girls.”
I cringed when my father repeated the name the press had used to glorify the man committing those horrific acts. Before I had time to respond or even declare my innocence, the detective was hustling me outside for processing. No matter the outcome, I knew from that day forward, my life would never be the same.
***
I sat in prison awaiting trial for 166 days, but it was finally time for my day in court. I had the opportunity to hear from my accuser, to try to understand why Maura was so hell-bent on seeing me rot in prison for the rest of my life.
When she crossed the courtroom to take the stand, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked stunning in a demure black pantsuit, her long blond hair swept off her neck, her makeup tasteful, and her eyes… filled with terror.
She was afraid of me.
“Miss Lancaster, can you describe your relationship with the defendant?” the prosecutor asked.
Maura’s eyes drifted to the back of the courtroom, where her parents were seated. I turned and looked as well.
After a curt nod from her father, Maura said, “I met him when he was doing some work at my parents’ house.”
I noted a good-looking guy Maura’s age seated with her family. Was he Maura’s new boyfriend? Even though I hadn’t heard from her since the night of her attack, the thought of her being intimate with another man didn’t sit well with me. She’d left me twisting in the wind for a crime she had to know I could never commit, but I couldn’t forget our visceral connection. Especially since I hadn’t had sex in months.
The prosecutor moved closer to the witness stand. “Were you and Mr. Cooper dating when you were attacked?”
Maura licked her lips before looking at her hands. “We were… uh… friends.”
Friends? I was pissed, but I couldn’t let it show. My lawyer had warned me that if I couldn’t contain my anger, the jury would see me as volatile, someone capable of committing the crimes I was being accused of.
“Then you and Mr. Cooper did see each other outside of your family’s estate?” the prosecutor pressed.
It was crazy, but I still wanted to protect her. She was scared from being on the witness stand and reliving the worst experience of her life, and part of me wanted to jump up and tell the lawyer to leave her the hell alone. I loved her still, and that made me a serious sucker.
“Yes, we did,” she said, nodding slightly. Her voice was low, tentat
ive. “We, uh, had drinks a few times. Met for coffee after a couple of my evening classes. I think he took me to dinner once or twice. Like I said, we were friends.”
I hadn’t taken her out on real dates because she didn’t want to risk running into someone who would tell her parents they’d seen us together. We’d always gone back to my place and spent the night in bed.
I expected the lawyer to question her about under-age drinking, but he let that slide. My lawyer leaned in, whispering something about cross examination, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than the words coming out of Maura’s mouth. I was waiting for her to acknowledge our connection, to tell the crowded courtroom that I was a decent guy who’d always treated her with respect and she knew I could never hurt a woman. I was waiting for her to save me. She was my only hope.
“Witnesses at the bar the night of your attack said your exchange with Mr. Cooper looked more like a lover’s quarrel. Were you and the defendant lovers, Miss Lancaster?”
She winced. The silence was deafening as everyone awaited her response.
The prosecutor obviously wasn’t pleased. He’d probably spent hours prepping his star witness for her time on the stand. “Please answer the question, and remember you’re under oath.”
“We had sex a few times,” she acknowledged.
A few times? We’d had sex a few times every night. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other when we were together, and we were always together. From the first time I laid eyes on her, I’d wanted her, and the feeling was mutual. She didn’t subscribe to the three-date rule, and I couldn’t wait to get her in my bed. So I didn’t. The first night, we ended up back at my place. When she found the handcuffs in my closet, she wanted them on her all night long.
“Did you and the defendant have sex the night of your attack?” the lawyer asked.
She cast a quick glance in my direction. I felt the intensity of it ricochet through my body, touching me in places that had been cold and lifeless since the guard ushered me inside that prison cell. We still had amazing chemistry. She could deny it, but the heat between us had to be as obvious to everyone else as it was to me. Surely the jurors had to see it. I just had to try to engage her, get her to look in my direction so those twelve people could see and feel what I did when she looked at me.
