Skeletons in the Mist (The McCall Twins) (12 page)

“I’ve known her for two days.” Chas rolled his eyes. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?”

“I can see that look in your eyes the first minute you meet a chick if you’re in to her.”

“You’re being dramatic. I don’t have any look. She’s just a girl who happens to be involved in this investigation. End of story.”

“You let her stay at Mom’s and Pop’s with Luci.”

He cringed, figuring that probably hadn’t been the best idea. “We know the family. She’s not a complete stranger.”

“Exactly.”

“Drop it,” Chas finally growled, annoyed. “I’m not interested in getting into her pants, so you can back off.”

“If you say so,” Trace said, as the phone on Chas’s desk rang.

Irritated, Chas answered. “McCall.”

“Chas? This is Manny at The Shady Lane. We’ve got a bit of a problem over here.”

Chas could hear screaming in the background. A woman’s screaming.

“What the hell is that?”

“That’s your lady friend. The one you dropped off earlier. You’d better get over here right away.”

It took Chas only a minute or two to make his way up the street to the motel, Trace at his heels. He could see there was a huge commotion going on up on the second floor. And, it was centered around the room he’d checked Roxy into earlier. His heart began to pound erratically as he took the stairs two at a time. He pushed his way through what appeared to be a crowd of onlookers. There was no
screaming anymore. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or terrified.

The door to Roxy’s room was wide open. Manny, the motel’s night manager, and a good friend of Chas’s, stood just inside the doorway, his hands up as if in surrender.

“What’s going on?” Chas demanded, pushing Manny aside so he could see into the room. He heard Trace curse from behind him, but he was already moving across the floor.

Roxy had done her best to stuff herself into a small coat closet in a corner of the room. Her face was a mess of blood and tears, her eyes wide as saucers as she struggled to keep screaming. Her voice had finally given out and was nothing more than a scratchy moaning sound.

“She won’t let you near her. I already tried,” Manny said, stepping back so Trace could enter the room.

“What happened, Roxy?” Chas watched her flinch as he stepped closer. Crouching down where he was, his eyes met hers. He heard Trace call for back up from outside the door.

The closer he got, the more anxiety he felt. From what he could tell, she didn’t have anything but a long t-shirt on. There were scrapes on her legs that indicated some kind of a struggle. He’d seen situations like this before. None of them indicated a small crime. The majority of them had been rape situations.

His heart broke for her and he felt sick to his stomach.

“Chas?”

Hearing a raspy whisper, he looked at her face again. “Yeah, Roxy, it’s me. You’re safe now.” He indicated Manny. “She’s in shock. Get me a blanket and call an ambulance.”

“Already done,” Trace said quietly from behind him. He tossed a fleece blanket to Chas.

“Get them out of here,” he said, tossing a look toward the door, where the crowd had thickened, with observation peaked.

“Don’t leave me here,” Roxy suddenly begged in a shaky whisper, climbing out of the closet and crawling toward Chas.

He met her halfway, wrapping her in the blanket
quickly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She burrowed into him snugly, her body shaking something fierce.

By the time the paramedics arrived, they were no closer to figuring out what had happened. From Manny’s account, he’d been working the front desk when he’d heard earsplitting shrieking.

“I mean I ain’t never heard screaming like that. It was almost like…like an animal being gutted or something.” Manny let out an inhaled breath, clearly shaken up.

“So what did you do?” Chas asked, keeping an eye on the paramedics who were working Roxy over, not ten feet away from them. She’d refused to get into the ambulance and go to the hospital. Trina Miller, a female officer on the force, had taken over questioning her.

Manny ran a frustrated hand through his thinning hair. “I heard the screams and I ran upstairs. Nearly tripped and broke my fool neck. By the time I got there, the door was wide open. She was stuffed in that closet. I tried to go to her but she freaked out worse. That’s when I called you, man. I
saw your truck down the street and figured you were still at the station.”

“You didn’t see anyone running off?” This came from Trace, who had been relatively silent up until now.

“Not a soul,” Manny answered.

Chas peered around the room, taking in every nook and cranny. One chair was lying sideways on the floor and there was a lamp lying not far from it. The bed was a mess, the covers hanging off to one side. Chas felt sick again, turning in the other direction. He glanced at the door. It was all in one piece, hanging open.

“I could pick that lock with my eyes shut, using a popsicle stick,” Trace pointed out, frowning.

Chas had been thinking the same thing.

“We’re all done with her for now. Unless she’ll let us take her in, there’s nothing more we can do.”

Chas followed a paramedic’s gaze to where Roxy sat on a gurney, a stubborn look on her face. She was pushing the hands of the other paramedic away from her fervently.

“You need to let them do their jobs,” Chas said,
stepping toward her. “You may have broken bones.” He leaned down to her eye level. “They need to run tests, Roxy. You’re hurt.”

“I’m not going to the hospital.” Her voice was still scratchy and barely came out in a whisper. “I’m okay.”

“They need to check you out,” he reiterated. “I know you don’t want to go, but it’s necessary.” He knew what tests they were going to put her through. A rape kit was not pleasant, but it had to be done.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Trina asked, indicating he come with her outside.

Reluctantly, he stood up and followed her.

“She wasn’t raped, Chas. At least that’s what she says.”

He felt instant relief. “Are you sure?”

“Obviously I’m only going on what she told me. She says some guy tried to smother her with a pillow but she fought and got away and screamed bloody murder. He took off at that point.” Trina made a note in her note pad. “She’s confused and in a state of shock, but I don’t think she was actually
raped. I don’t think that was the motive here.”

He let out a sigh, and looked through the door at Roxy again. She was still giving the paramedics a hard time. “She didn’t know the attacker?”

“Hard to say. She’s in shock,” she repeated, folding her notebook into her pocket. “All she gave me was that she woke up suddenly and he was there. Obviously a struggle ensued. She managed to get away long enough to scream. He got smart and took off. If he hadn’t, we might be looking at a different outcome here.”

Chas didn’t even want to think about that outcome. “Okay, thanks for your help.”

“She should go in,” Trace said when Chas came back into the room. Manny had since left, and the paramedics were packing up their things.

“Trina says she told her she wasn’t raped. She says the guy tried to smother her and she got away.”

Trace looked skeptical. “Are you sure about that?”

“No, I’m not sure about that. But that’s what Roxy told her. Why would she lie?”

“Because she’s in a state of shock and
traumatized.”

Trace had a point. Chas viewed Roxy critically again.

“A rape kit needs to be done as soon as possible, Chas. You know the drill.”

“I know the freakin’ drill,” Chas answered irritably. “Just give me a minute with her. I’m not putting her through something like that if it isn’t necessary.”

Trace didn’t look like he wanted to comply, but he did and walked out of the room. Now alone with Roxy, Chas walked over and sat down on a chair across from where she still sat on the gurney. She was looking down at the rug, her hands rubbing at her temples firmly.

“Can you tell me what happened tonight?”

She slowly shook her head, avoiding his gaze. “I already told that woman.”

“I know you did. I need to hear it too, Roxy. Word for word.”

“Why? She took notes. I saw her.” She looked up and he was glad to see that the cut over her eye was smaller than it had originally looked. It was
now covered with a clear bandage.

Gentling his tone, he tried his best not to look so official to her. “Because I may pick up something in the story that Trina missed.”

“He didn’t rape me, Chas. That’s not why he came here.”

“So Trina says. Start at the beginning.”

“I was sleeping. I woke up and went into the bathroom to turn on the light. He came at me from behind.” She rubbed at her face again. “I didn’t see him. He just grabbed me and dragged me backward.”

“And then what?”

She swallowed harshly. “And then he threw me down on the bed. I fought him but he was too strong.” She quickly swiped at a stray tear that managed to fall from her eyes. “God, he was huge. Like a monster or something.”

Chas watched as her face seemed to lose its color abruptly. She leaned over, her head between her knees, and took several deep breaths.

“Do you want me to grab the paramedics again? I really think you should go to the hospital.” He
reached forward, but she sat up suddenly and backed away before he could touch her.

“I don’t want to go to the hospital.”

He wanted to argue but he didn’t. “What happened next?”

“He shoved me onto the bed.”

“You didn’t see his face at all? Nothing familiar about him stood out?”

“No, nothing. He had me face down the whole time. He grabbed a pillow and tried to smother me with it.” Her voice started to shake. “I fought him off enough so I could scream and he took off.”

“And you climbed into the closet.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes almost hostile. “Yes, I guess so. That’s where you found me, isn’t it? I wanted to hide in case he came back.”

He stared at her a moment. “Okay,” he finally said. “If you think of anything else, I need to know about it. In the meantime, are you able to get around?”

“I can move,” she said, wrapping her arms around her middle. “I’m just a little bruised.”

“Why don’t you get your stuff together? You’re
coming home with us tonight.”

“Us?”

“Me and my brother. You shouldn’t be alone.” He didn’t bother waiting for her to respond. Instead he got up and walked outside.

“You think that’s a good idea, man?” Trace asked, eyeing his brother critically.

“I’m not leaving her alone. This wasn’t a random attack. My instincts are telling me there’s more here than meets the eye.”

“So what’s your theory?”

“I don’t have one. That’s the problem. I just know I don’t want her with Luci under the circumstances and there’s really no place else for her to go but with us.”

“I admit this doesn’t appear random.” Trace was quiet a moment. “I’ll follow you home I guess. Give me a minute to let Willow know I won’t be there tonight.”

Chas nodded and turned back to Roxy. She had since pulled on a pair of sweat pants and changed into a different shirt. Her duffel bag was sitting at her feet.

He picked it up and slung it over his shoulder. “Come on. The crime scene techs need to get in here sooner rather than later.”

“Are you going to get into trouble?” she asked as they walked out of the room. “I heard you tell Luci it wasn’t a good idea for me to stay at your place.”

“Things are different now. You’ll be safe there.” He walked toward the stairs and she followed.

“Do you think the man that attacked me tonight has something to do with Aunt Myra’s murder?”

“Do you?” The thought ate at him as he unlocked the passenger door to his truck and helped her climb into the cab.

“I wasn’t here when she was murdered. Why would someone want to hurt me?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “But maybe the person who attacked you tonight is the reason your brother is hiding.”

ELEVEN

Chas stared at the television screen, sleep eluding him. When he glanced at his wristwatch, he saw that it was four-thirty.

Two hours ago, he had tucked Roxy Tavish into his bed—for real this time—and retired to the living room couch, still fully clothed. He hadn’t been comfortable stripping down to the boxers he normally wore to bed, with Roxy in the house.

Trace had disappeared into his own room and obviously gone to sleep. Unfortunately, Chas’s mind was working overtime. He tended to do that when he was working on a case. Most of the time he laid awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, working each detail over inside of his head. When cases weren’t open and shut, mulling the facts over again and again was all the police could do. There was usually something obvious missing that was right under their noses. It just took time to figure out
what it was. To his chagrin, nothing was coming to him tonight. He was exhausted, yet too keyed up to sleep.

Slapping at the pillow under his head, he groaned. The couch was uncomfortable to sleep on. He and Trace had bought it strictly for the upright comfort of watching sports. It was hell on the back when you tried lying down on it. He made a mental note to consider that fact the next time they went furniture shopping.

Turning over, he reached for the remote and shut off the television. He needed sleep. He hadn’t had a full eight hours in a night for too long. It was beginning to wear on him.

He shut his eyes and concentrated on a dreamless sleep. Not five minutes later, he was awakened by a noise. It was faint and coming from the hallway.

Immediately, he was up and on his feet. He had his gun in his hand before he even thought about it. He quietly made his way down the hall. When he got to Trace’s bedroom, he noticed that the door was tightly shut, just like it always was when his brother
slept there.

His eyes squinted in the darkness of the hallway. The door to his own bedroom was cracked open and light filtered from the slit in the door. They’d left the bedside lamp on for her because she’d been too rattled to sleep in the dark.

He knew immediately that the noise was coming from inside the room. It was a soft mewling sound. It took him only a second to realize what it likely was—Roxy was awake…and she was crying.