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“As entertaining as all this is, we have a murder here,” Caleb reminds us, pointing to the door leading back inside the clinic. “The victim is unidentified, and I still have to get a statement from all of them.”
“I’ll stay here and wait for backup,” Zeke volunteers.
“Thanks, man,” I say.
On the way back inside, Caleb says, “I’ll ask the questions.” Damian starts to speak, but Caleb gives him a look that shuts him down. “You’re both too close.” He’s not wrong. Still, my instinct is to protect Sabrina. She’s already seen too much today.
Caleb pulls up a chair and addresses his questions first to Dr. Nestor and then to his wife. Unfortunately, the victim was already unconscious when they found him. Chloe was the one to call 911, and she gives a full account of the call with the operator.
Sabrina is next. She sits on the edge of her seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “No pressure, Sabrina,” Caleb says. “Just take me through what happened from the time you stepped outside.”
She looks at me first. I give her an encouraging smile and urge her to go on. “I went to open the door, and it wouldn’t open. I had to push hard. When I got through, he was lying there. I dropped the trash bag and checked for a pulse. It was faint, but he grabbed my shirt.” She looks down at the top she’s wearing, obviously recalling the moment. “He was trying to talk. I told him not to. I yelled for help, and Dr. Nestor came out.” She stops for a second, then sits up straighter. “He said something I didn’t quite get. I could hardly hear him. It made no sense at all.”
“It may be nothing, but it could be something. Can you remember what he said?” Caleb prompts.
“‘Howser to for.’ Well, that’s what it sounded like.”
“Could be the numbers two and four?” I suggest.
“An address?” Damian says.
“Possibly.” Caleb nods.
“I want to call the hospital to see how he’s doing,” Sabrina says. “Do you know which one they took him to?” There are two major hospitals that would take these types of trauma cases, but this man is on the way to the coroner.
I lead her away from the rest of them. I pull her closer and wrap my arms loosely around her waist. “Baby, he didn’t make it,” I say softly.
Her lower lip trembles. “I knew he was bad off, but I was still hoping,” she whispers.
Shit, she’s killing me. I drop my forehead to hers and tighten my grip on her waist. “I’m sorry, buttercup. It’s awful, but we’ll find who did this. Let’s get you out of here. You need a hot shower and pizza from Del Rio’s ’cause they’re the best, and time to decompress.”
“His poor family.”
“There was no wallet. As of now, he’s an unidentified victim. We don’t know much about him yet. But we will, and we’ll get in touch with his family. I promise.”
THREE
Pizza Cures All
SABRINA
The hot water streaming down from the shower feels so good. I release the tension in my body and visualize it swirling down the drain. The stress of the day, the tears for the man I didn’t know who passed away, and the violence I saw from the beating he was subjected to, all the tragedy of the day. I know from personal experience that bad people exist.
Cameron kept me locked in the house and raped me daily. I had to give up my family and friends because he threatened to kill them. I didn’t think there was any way out. I thought I would die there. I got lucky because Cameron created the illusion of having a wonderful relationship with me, his girlfriend. Then when the CEO of the firm he was working for personally invited us to an event, he couldn’t refuse.
That night, he dressed me like a princess and treated me like he did when we first met. For a second, I thought the man I’d loved was still inside him. But when the ladies at the table told me it was time to freshen up, he seized my hand so hard, I thought he was going to break my fingers. He loosened his grip and pretended to whisper sweetly in my ear. What he really said was “Try something stupid, cunt, and I’ll make sure you pay.” And he meant it.
Still, I decided that if I didn’t run then, I might never get another chance. I couldn’t go home to my parents for fear that he’d track me down and hurt them in the process. My friends were long gone. It was terrifying. Even the warm stream of water beating down on my skin can’t stop the goose bumps rising from the memory.
As I was trying to formulate a plan while crossing the lobby to the ladies’ bathroom, I looked outside to see a church right across the street. I thought I could run and seek refuge there. When we got closer to the ladies’ room, I told the other women that I forgot my purse. I had just dropped it behind a plant. There was nothing in there except a lipstick anyway, and nothing that would aid my escape. I told them I’d be right back. Cameron was engrossed in conversation with his colleague, but was stationed in the doorway looking at the exit. He was already anticipating that I would make a run for it.
I thought I was stuck, my plan thwarted before it even had a chance. The luck of the gods was with me, though, because a waiter tripped and dumped his tray on Cameron and his buddy. While they were in turmoil, I took off like a shot and prayed I’d get out the door before he saw me.
I made it to the top of the steps of the church before I saw Cameron exit the hotel where the event was taking place. I yanked open the door and came face-to-face with a priest.
“Please help me,” I begged. I must have looked desperate, because he hurried me into the church and through to the private area. I poured my heart out to him that night. Father Bryant offered to call my parents, but that would have been the first place Cameron would go, and I was completely freaked out at what he would do to my family if he found me with them.
Father Bryant gave me a bed for the night and a decent meal. The next morning, he contacted a woman named Kathy, who helped battered women disappear. She taught me how to stay under the radar and blend in with the crowds.
