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They got edgy when he had a pencil in his hands. What they expected him to do with it, he didn’t know.
He wasn’t a killer.
“I haven’t thought of anything to write,” he admitted. “I thought the words would come, but now that I have the chance to write to her, I don’t know what to say. There’s so much.” He shook his head before he dropped his gaze to the sheet of paper. “What do you write to the girl you love, who you know you’ll never see again?”
Quinten had no idea how long he sat crying with the paper blurred in his vision. He just knew he had to write something because he couldn’t leave this life without her knowing how much he still loved her.
* * *
8:30am
* * *
Saige didn’t know whether or not she could trust Alex. One minute, he seemed like Quinten’s caring older brother, and the next he glared at her as hate emanated from him. The only way she’d understand Alex more was to read the statement.
The statement that she’d given so many years before sat on her lap while she gazed out of the window. Saige knew she had to pick it up and read the words she supposedly said, but the thought of reading what happened to her made her belly quiver with nerves.
Alex told her that the statement didn’t go into detail, but if she wanted more details they would be in the hospital report that her doctor had written for the court. She opted to ignore the latter for now.
Draining the bottle of water that she’d been nursing, she placed it on the table and started to read.
He held me down...
There was so much hate inside him...
He kept talking about money...
His voice was distorted...like a machine...
He was so strong...
I don’t remember him raping me...
Did he?
I just wanted to leave...
I promised him I wouldn’t tell...
A short time later, Saige had reached the end of the report, and realized that tears ran down her face. So much so that she couldn’t even see the signature at the bottom of the page.
“Do you remember?” Alex offered another tissue while he stood to the side.
She shook her head. “My head is full of the report, but I didn’t see any mention of your brother.”
“Then you obviously didn’t read the last paragraph.” Alex pointed to the bit that she missed because her tears had prevented her from reading it.
Wiping her eyes, and blowing her nose, she took a drink from another bottle of water that Alex passed her, and started to read the last paragraph.
I, Saige Lockwood, state that the photograph selected, whilst in the hospital, from a lineup of ten photographs given to me by the District Attorney’s office, and Detective Coulter Robinson, is of my abductor, Quinten James Peterson.
She gasped, and managed to look at the signature before her tears started again, not that they’d ever stopped.
“That’s mine...oh, God.”
For five days she’d thought that maybe Quinten Peterson was innocent, but her statement obviously said otherwise.
“Saige.” Alex crouched beside her, and demanded, “Please stop crying and dry your eyes. I need you to take another look at the signature. Look at it. Don’t glance.”
