Protect and Correct (2 page)

“Oh Lord, how much uglier could I possibly be? Maybe you should have just left my face off completely, Doc,” Brooke sniffed, blowing her nose into the offered tissue.

“Personally, I think my guy did his best work on you,” the woman smiled. “He is still doing the Happy Snoopy Dance in the cafeteria, and I think he sprained his shoulder from patting himself on the back. He has been impossible to live with.”

“You are married to him? “

“Nah, kid brother and arrogant as shit. Nevertheless, he does great work.”

“How bad was the damage?”

“Let’s get some strength in you before we go back to that subject, kiddo,” Collin said quickly. “And you are gorgeous. Wanna see?”

Brooke hesitated before nodding. Dr. Nguyen held up a mirror and waited as Brooke slowly lifted her hand to touch the face of the stranger who stared back with familiar eyes. Pale, creamy, high-boned cheeks framed dark rosebud lips that hid a set of sparkling-white, even teeth. The tiny pert nose with a sassy little arch harbored a minute pale Blue Diamond in the right nostril. The scars and pock marks were gone from her brows, and she had a slight cat-eye tilt to the outer edges of both dark green eyes. The woman staring back at her was uncomfortably beautiful.

“Is that really me? He even fixed my teeth. And a nose ring?”

“I hope you like it. I picked your nose and thought it would be cute,” Collin grinned proudly.

“Picked my nose?” Brooke grinned back, touching the tiny gem. “Yeah. I always wanted one, but my old nostrils were way too thick. Was the purpose of this to hook a ring through my nose and lead me around on a leash, detective?”

“That could very easily be arranged, if you want.”

“Very funny, you two,” Dr. Nguyen laughed, “We were fortunate that there was no occurrence of extensive damage to your facial bones. Grafts from your body were used to reform your face and your breasts, and then he sculpted everything else.”

“I’m glad to know that my fat was finally useful for something,” Brooke snarled, fingering her chin. “I hope you found a needy hippo to donate the rest to.”

“We took full advantage that you would be out of commission for a while and kept you chemically restrained while you healed. You have had some terrible outbreaks of agitation and yelling, and we did not want you to hurt yourself,” Collin patted her thigh.

“Who paid for this? I could understand the value if I actually witnessed something, but…”

“The department funded this. Denise is a neuropsychiatrist, and based on the nightmares you were having, is convinced that you saw or heard something. You are the living key we have in solving this puzzle, and we need you to help us find this psychopath before another person is harmed. The only pattern we can determine thus far is he killed on the third Wednesday of different months. He started his killing spree in April of last year and has involved four different states. You were attacked in February. So far, there has been no further reported deaths as we head into May,” Collin explained.

“Wednesday’s child is full of woe…” Brooke muttered. “Definitely a pattern of sorts.”

“I already told you that you would not be involved in the investigation portion, Brooke. End of discussion,” Collin said warningly.

“Oh, that’s right,” Brooke said sardonically. “If I use my brain to help find the monster who did this to me, I might get spanked, correct?”

“Don’t push it. You are to sit back, keep quiet, and let me do my job.”

“Thus sayeth King Collin! So, what am I going to do now? My life… Who I am… It is dead and gone. My career…”

“We will help you develop a new life, which I hope you find more gratifying than the old one. Unfortunately, we have to keep you in hiding until we find this psycho,” Collin said, unruffled by her sarcasm.

“Where am I going to live? How will I survive without an identity or a job?”

“Try not to worry, sweetheart,” Dr. Nguyen said. “Everything will come together for you in time. Collin is the best in what he does. Trust him to take good care of you. Now lean back and rest a while. We can all talk later.”

Brooke nodded, allowing her body to be pressed back against the bed. She still held the mirror in her hand, disturbed by the image it. The former acne-scarred face with a protruding jaw, heavy brow line, and crooked nose was now smooth, delicate, and symmetrical. Full, dark-pink lips occupied the place once etched in pale, straight, thin lines. The jagged scar over her right eyebrow was gone, and the blotchy, freckled cheeks were soft and evenly toned. Her hair was still a dark brown, but much longer than she had ever allowed it to grow since middle school. The beauty before her was simply a mask, for she knew that inside she was just as unattractive and unlovable as before the crime.

Brooke sighed as she traced the slender throat with a finger, peering at a tiny silver scar at the base. She had been trached
, which meant she had been unable to breath. What kind of barbarian would do this to someone? And why?

She closed her eyes, thinking over the events that occurred prior to waking in the hospital room and discovering that life, as she knew it, was over. She worked for a forensic investigation agency, exposing medical and insurance fraud. She loved the job but loathed the people she worked with. The owners were described by the workforce as rude, misogynous, homophobic Aryans, who delighted in ridiculing and demeaning anyone who did not fit into their ideal mind-set. She was just one of the several people in the company who was constantly assaulted by their attacks for being overweight, of biracial descent, unattractive, and the worst offense—female.

Strong references from her previous position as an assistant coroner led her to be hired, sight unseen, as the chief analyst. The owners had attempted to renege on their offer when they were confronted with her gender and her appearance, but they bitterly acquiesced after she boldly threatened a discrimination lawsuit. She had worked under their tyranny and prejudice for three years, biding her time until something better came her way. She reached the end of her tolerance, however, after she caught both of them in the lunchroom engaged in sexual relations with one of the marketers. They had flooded her ears with threats of ‘uncomfortable circumstances’ should she share her discovery with either of their wives.

Mentally, she began her list of suspects. Bill Marvin was a coward. If he was responsible, then it would have meant his hiring some thug to do his dirty work. Dan Adams, the company’s vice president, was psychotic enough to do almost anything. She knew his history of termination for embezzlement and that he had been sued for multiple counts of sexual harassment and assault. She assumed he escaped imprisonment simply because his partner, Bill, had illicit connections with several congressmen. Would Dan’s fear of his wife discovering his little adventure be enough to push him to attempt murder?

But what of the other seven people? What did they have in common to attract this psycho? Brooke yawned, feeling the effect from the medication as it lulled her to sleep. As her world began to drift from her grasp, she made a promise to herself that perhaps one day, she would both confront, and thank, her would-be murderer for giving her a means to change the life she hated.

* * *

Six weeks later, Brooke waited impatiently on the edge of her hospital bed for Collin. She was adorned in a long sleeved dress, flat-heeled boots, a soft knitted cap, and a scarf. Her strength was quickly returning, and she was growing accustomed to the new face and body that greeted her in the mirror every morning. Collin had been by her side during the entire healing process, urging her to remembrance. She knew he was disappointed to learn that she had nothing new to share other than her previous job situation and the emotionally neglectful marriage she had been involved in. No memories of the abduction had surfaced as of yet, nor was she eager to explore them.

“Ready to go, kiddo?” Collin asked, entering her room.

Brooke looked up. “I hate when you call me that. I must be the same age as you.”

“Wrong. I have several years on you, even in your old life. But thank you. It’s nice to know I still look young. And if I want to call you kiddo, I will. We are married now.” He offered a lopsided grin.

“What?”

Collin laughed, catching the hat that she flung at him. “Chill, pipsqueak. It is our paper trail, a ruse. It looks better for a couple to set up residence in a new area. Especially a happily married one.”

“Why the hell would I be happily married to you? You are nothing but a bore! An arrogant, self-righteous…”

“Are you still angry with me for refusing your help on tracking this criminal? I told you ‘no’. It was ‘no’ the first time you asked me and remained ‘no’ every day for the last six weeks. Simple as that. I don’t care if you have a background in investigation, a master’s in forensics, or even if you served as one of Santa’s elves for the last two thousand years. You are emotionally involved in the search, and your findings would be considered biased. The answer is still ‘no’, and I am not going to keep repeating myself.”

“I swear I will wear you down with this. I know what I am doing!”

“Listen up, little girl,” Collin drew his tanned face close to hers and whispered into her ear, “if you wear my patience down, I promise to wear your tail end down. Don’t push me. I assure you that you will receive no enjoyment out of the bare-assed paddling you will get from me.”

Brooke gasped, glaring at him. “You are unbelievable. Why don’t you just lay off with the threats already?”

“I don’t threaten, dear. I thought I made that clear in the beginning. Let’s get moving; we have a long drive ahead.”

Before Brooke could comment, Dr. Nguyen walked across the room, carrying a basket of bath soaps, oils, and lotions.

“A wedding gift! Thanks, Doc,” Collin exclaimed, reaching for it.

“Keep your grubby hands to yourself, Detective. This is for Brooke. I am gonna miss you,” she said, hugging the younger woman.

“I will miss you too, Doc. And tell your Neanderthal friend here to stop making threats against my person.”

“Collin! Are you still threatening to spank this girl? You look like the proverbial cat who swallowed the canary. You need to stop,” Dr. Nguyen scolded. “She has already suffered enough mental anguish without you adding to it.”

“You know damn well I never threaten, Denise. You might want to tell her that, as well as to stop gawking at me and get a move on. I want to make some tracks before I fall flat on my face from exhaustion,” Collin commanded, flicking Brooke’s nose.

“It might be an improvement to that mug. I don’t know about the pavement,” she retorted as her hand flew to the offended tip, making him laugh.

Dr. Nguyen once again hugged the young woman. “You’re good to go, my dear. You have healed 100% and can do anything you wish with this wonderful, new body of yours. If you need me for anything, go through the bully. Listen to his instructions, even if you don’t care for them. They are in place to save your life.”

“Would it be okay to contact you in the event I am tempted to cause him bodily harm?” Brooke asked wearily as the tall man impatiently tapped his foot and watch simultaneously.

“Only if he needs his pretty face fixed. Be safe.”

Collin said quick farewells and led Brooke down the emergency staircase to the parking garage, where a sage green Prius waited for them. He opened the door for Brooke to enter, and without a word, reached across her body to grab her seatbelt and buckled her in place.

“I am very capable of buckling my own seatbelt, thank you.”

“You are most welcome, Mrs. Doyle,” he answered, ignoring the flippant statement.

“I have the feeling that this is not going to be a pleasant trip. You are already annoying the hell out of me. Must we drive?”

“We must. It will give us time to develop our story for when we arrive at our destination,” Collin said, starting the car.

“And where is that?”

“Maine. I have a sweet little house there for you to decorate.”

“Hey! Just because I am a woman does not mean that I can do girly things. I am offended.” Brooke crossed her arms with a pout.

“Oh, you will be offended when you see the place. I figured I would kill two birds with one stone. You will witness my personal idea of prot
ect
ion, and my house will get a facelift.”

“Did you seriously make a statement like that after everything I have been through?”

Collin simply laughed and started along the road to their new, temporary life. Brooke stared through the rain-splattered window as they began their dreary drive north, while Collin sang—very loudly and even more poorly—to the country music station.

“Must you do that?” she asked with annoyance, feeling a headache coming on after being on the road for less than an hour.

“You don’t like my singing, kiddo?”

“I would rather hear a cat getting its tail caught under a rocking chair. I honestly believed that the term tone-deaf was made up. Until now.”

“Ow! Okay then, let’s talk about our story.”

“Can’t you just drive without making noise? Collin, will you please mellow out? One word… decaf.”

“That is a good idea. We should stop for coffee.” He then started to sing the ditty to the Folgers coffee commercial,

Brooke groaned. “I know as a fact that you are doing this to annoy me. The question is why? Are you always this energetic?”

“Yup. I am also a self-proclaimed comedian and crack myself up as the Pun-Fu Master. Add to that the fact that I have had very little sleep the last few weeks and am presently fighting an ancient Chinese disease.”

“A disease? Oh, my! I’m sorry, what is it?” Brooke asked with genuine concern.

Collin’s face twitched. “Dragon Ass.”

Brooke moaned, rolling her eyes. “That was terrible. Keep your day job, okay?”

“You are my day job, peanut. How are you holding up with all this?”

Brooke took a deep breath, staring out at the wet gray road and the dense tree line of dull-green and brown. “Denise has asked me that question every day since I woke up. My answer is still the same. I am indifferent. I only want to find this guy and…”