Dana Lynn - Plain Retribution

“Lieutenant Tucker says he got the pictures and will make sure they are processed.” His watch lit up again. He tapped it and read the message. “He also says that the visual artist can be there later this morning. You can come in and give her a description of your attacker. Maybe you’ll remember something that will help us find him. We should head out. Jackson?”

The other officer nodded once, then got to his feet to head to the door. Miles stood as well, but instead of walking away, he moved toward her. He leaned forward, so close she caught the clean, sharp scent of him. No cologne, just soap, shampoo and Miles. “I can tell you this. I find it doubtful that you and your roommate would be attacked the same night by accident. Someone is after you. We just have to figure out who.”

* * *

It took some doing, but Miles was finally able to convince Rebecca to come to the police station with him to give a description to the visual artist. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to help. Turning to the police just seemed to be awkward for her. Growing up, her community didn’t go for outside help easily. He understood that. Even though she’d left the Amish community, she was still very close with her family. Those influences would be hard for her to overcome.

He also had a sneaking suspicion that her experiences with the legal system at the age of fifteen didn’t help. He knew from watching the trial after his stepsister was murdered that people could be brutal to innocents. Especially the press.

He remembered the agony his father had gone through after his mother had been killed in such a sensational manner. He’d only been four, but some memories stayed with you forever. He shuddered as he remembered the way his father had been hounded by reporters, who wanted to know more about the famous model who’d died in a car crash while running off with another man. Leaving her child behind.

His father had become a broken man. But he’d had the wisdom to send his only child to live with his parents and younger brother. Spending the next two years with his father’s deaf relatives had sheltered him from the worst of the drama, and connected him to a community he wouldn’t have learned about otherwise.

“Hey, catch you later.” Jackson sketched a casual wave and sauntered to his own car. Miles jerked back, grateful to be pulled out of his morbid memories.

“See you.” Miles opened the passenger-side door for Rebecca, then jogged around to his own side.

As soon as the door shut, she turned to face him.

“Do you really think someone kidnapped Holly?”

How to answer that? Miles wasn’t into giving false hope, but he also didn’t want to escalate the situation with unsubstantiated theories. “I think we need to consider all the possibilities.” There. How was that for diplomacy?

She wrinkled her nose. “But if it was the same person, why wasn’t I kidnapped when that man attacked me last night?”

He twisted his body so he could give her his full attention. “I don’t want to scare you. But we have no idea what your attacker would have done if you had not escaped. He may have meant to knock you unconscious and then kidnap you all along.” She raised her hands, and he motioned for her to wait. “I don’t have the answers yet. I intend to get them. Please, can you trust me a little longer?”

She didn’t like it. He could see that, but she relented and let him start the car.

Twenty-five minutes later, he pulled into the station. As he led her into the building, he could see her shoulders stiffen. Her arms were folded in typical closed-off body language. He wished she would look at him, just so that he could send her a comforting look, or try to make small talk. Anything to make the situation easier. But she wouldn’t look anywhere but straight ahead.

In the conference room, he saw that the interpreter had already arrived. Miles introduced the two women. Rebecca stared at the brunette with the edgy haircut with something akin to suspicion.

“Olsen!”

Lieutenant Jace Tucker approached, his forehead heavily creased. Uh-oh. Whatever happened, Miles wasn’t sure he wanted to know about it. Jace Tucker was known for his no-nonsense attitude. He was also fair-minded. A man who commanded respect. Most of all, he was good at remaining calm and impartial, rarely letting his emotions show while he was working. That he looked visibly upset right now was a very bad sign.

“Yes, sir?”

“Is Miss Miller in there?”

What was this about? “Yes. I just brought her in to meet with the visual artist. She hasn’t arrived yet.”

Lieutenant Tucker craned his neck toward the room where he’d left the two women. Miles followed his gaze. The women were sitting quietly. Rebecca was staring straight at them. The lieutenant motioned for Miles to follow him. Instincts in high alert, Miles walked with him. They went into Lieutenant Tucker’s office and shut the door. It took some effort, but Miles stood at attention, waiting for the other man to begin.

“We might have a witness to the attack on Holly,” Lieutenant Tucker began.

Every muscle in Miles’s body tightened.

“One of the tenants in the apartment across the street saw a man approach her as she was getting in her car. She couldn’t see his face. He was wearing a mask. But she was able to clearly see that he grabbed the young woman. She struggled, then sagged. He carried her to a van and drove off.”

“Did she get a make? Model? Plate number?” The questions burst out of him. He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried. Granted, he didn’t try.

Lieutenant Tucker shook his head, the regret stamped across his somber face. “Sorry, Olsen. I wish she had. She had just taken out her contacts, and everything was blurry. The only reason she recognized Holly was because she went into the restaurant often and was familiar with all the employees.”

He kept a lid on his disappointment. It was more information than they’d had five minutes ago. “So, on the positive side, we know two things. She was abducted and didn’t leave under her own power. And, more importantly, we know she may be alive.”

“Third,” Lieutenant Tucker added, “it solidifies our suspicion that Miss Miller was attacked by the same person, given that the two women were both attacked by a man wearing a dark ski mask. And there’s more.”

How much more could Rebecca take? His gut tightened as Tucker gave him the rest of the news.

“How much can I tell Rebecca?”

The lieutenant hesitated. “I think we should go ahead and tell her everything. She needs to understand that this is a focused attack so she can stay vigilant.”

Miles agreed, though he so didn’t want to be the one to tell her and see that lovely face fill with fear. But, the flip side of that was he didn’t want her to get the information through an interpreter, whose code of ethics stated she was there only to relay information. That would be such a cold way to learn such hard news.

No, he’d better tell her himself. And he needed to do it now. Waiting wouldn’t make the news any easier.

Nodding to the lieutenant, he left the office and made his way back to the conference room. To his surprise, the other officer followed him. Taking in a deep breath outside the door, he hardened his resolve and opened the door.

And found himself looking straight into Rebecca’s face. He and Lieutenant Tucker moved into the room. The lieutenant sat at the table. Miles moved to stand next to Rebecca. He nodded briefly at Tara, the visual artist, who’d arrived while he was talking with the lieutenant. Then he moved his gaze back to Rebecca.

Her gaze narrowed as she searched his face. He tried to school his features into a blank expression.

“What happened?” she signed.