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The story of how I’d woken up in that dark and windowless room. How I’d received good and hearty meals. How my clothes, my purse, my ID were all gone.
How one day, a masked man came for me.
How someone cut the tops of my breasts with a sharp blade.
The pain of the incision came back to me with a vengeance, and I had to stop talking.
“Do you need a break?” Moira asked me gently.
I shook my head. “I need to keep going. If I leave this room, I may never return.”
She nodded. “All right. Just take your time, Zee.”
“They cut me,” I said. “They said it was to lessen my advantage. They considered me worthy prey. Those were the exact words they used.”
“When you say ‘they,’” Detective Morgan interrupted, “who do you mean?”
“Derek Wolfe and the other one. The priest.”
“And by priest you mean Father James Wilkins?”
“Yes.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. Why else would they have both forced me to sign a non-disclosure agreement when they paid me off?”
“As I understand it, none of this story is stated in the agreement.”
“I don’t remember.”
“Derek Wolfe would have been pretty stupid to spell out what he had done to you in any written agreement,” Morgan said. “But tell me. Why did you sign it?”
“It was the only way he’d give me the money I needed.”
“Why not go to him before then? You went five years after the incident took place.”
A lump lodged in my throat. Now his not-so-nice side was showing. His “I’m determined to pin this on one of you” side.
“Detective,” Moira said, “Ms. Jones is here of her own volition to tell you her story. This isn’t an interrogation.”
“Noted,” the detective said. “Ms. Jones?”
“What?”
“Could you answer my question, please?”
“Don’t answer,” Moira said. “It’s irrelevant.”
“It’s very relevant,” Morgan countered. “I need to make sure Ms. Jones didn’t make up this story and then threaten to go public with false allegations as a way to blackmail Mr. Wolfe into giving her money.”
Zach stood, his eyes fiery and angry. “Are you serious?”
“Calm down, Hayes,” Morgan said. “We both know it wouldn’t be the first time that a money-hungry young woman blackmailed an older man with money for her own gain. The allegations are usually false.”
Tears threatened, but I inhaled, willing them away. No way was this guy going to make me cry.
“For the life of me,” Moira said, “I have no idea why you’re asking this question. She’s telling you that there are others besides his children who had a motive for killing Derek Wolfe.”
“All she’s telling me is that she had a motive,” Morgan said icily.
“We’ve already established that Ms. Jones was not in New York at the time of the murder,” Zach said, his tone adamant.
“Zach is right,” Moira agreed. “I think this meeting is over.”
“No,” I said softly.
“Zee,” Moira said. “You don’t have to do this.”
“I do have to. I have to for all those women who didn’t survive. And I also have to for myself. To put this to bed in my own mind. I’ve carried it around for far too long.”
Moira smiled. She reminded me of my grandmother, who died when I was ten. Very nurturing but also a spitfire who didn’t let anyone push her around. “As you wish.”
I cleared my throat. “I didn’t come forward earlier because I was afraid, Detective. I was a mess. Men had kidnapped me, cut me, and then hunted me with the intention of killing me. That’s not something you get over quickly.”
“I never meant to suggest that it was,” Morgan said.
“Well, you kind of did. What woman in her right mind would go straight to the person who violated her and demand money to keep her mouth shut?”
“You could have gone to the police.”
“I should have. But I was kind of catatonic for a while. I have no idea how I got to the ER. I have no idea how I got home. I was a mess, and my mother wanted me to get back into modeling right away.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I hated modeling. I wanted to go to college.”
“Why didn’t you go? You said you had a scholarship.”
“Because I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
Rage swirled through me like a black storm. “It’s all so easy to sit in judgment of me, isn’t it? But you’ve never been through what I’ve been through. I was a mess. I needed an escape.”
“So you turned to drugs.”
“I did. I’m not proud of it.”
“She got help,” Moira said. “She took responsibility.”
“And then you went to Derek Wolfe.”
I gulped. “Yes. To pay off my rehab, and to get some money to begin a new life somewhere far away.”
“Las Vegas.”
“Yes.”
“You dance in a topless show.”
“I do.”
“Why didn’t you just prostitute yourself? It’s legal there, you know.”
Moira and Zach both stood. Gone was the nurturing Moira. Now she was a lioness protecting a cub.
