John frowned at her and spun toward the rear of the club, where he could see light slanting in from what was probably the kitchen. The bass of the band kept time with his heart as he strode toward the double saloon doors. He hit the doors with both hands, sent them banging against the wall. The room was dimly lit and cluttered with boxes of canned goods and booze. To his right were a dozen shelves jam-packed with glasses of all shapes and sizes. To his left was a small kitchen dirty enough to keep the health department busy writing citations for a week. Straight ahead he spotted Julia and his stomach dropped to his feet.
She was sitting in a folding metal chair with her arms wrapped tightly around her midsection. She looked small and fragile and very alone. Her hair was in disarray and hanging in her face. She was wearing boots, a denim skirt and a pink blouse. But even from twenty feet away John could see that the blouse had been ripped.
He didn’t remember crossing to her. Midway there her head came up. Her eyes met his and all he could think was that some son of a bitch had hurt her. Not just roughed her up. Someone had punched her. Really hurt her. How could some guy do that to such a lovely and fragile creature?
The fury came with unexpected force. An earthquake that moved through his body hard enough to make him shake. He knew that wasn’t what she needed at the moment, but it was the kind of rage that couldn’t be reined. He wanted to find the bastard and pound his face until it caved in.
The bouncer was standing over her with a baseball bat in his hand. He was a tall man with a crew cut and biceps the size of Volkswagens. “You Merrick?”
John looked from the bouncer to Julia and back to the bouncer. “What the fuck happened?”
The bouncer propped the bat against the counter. “I was out taking a smoke break and she comes flying out of the alley like the demons from hell were chasing her.”
Judging from the way Julia was shaking, John figured the description wasn’t too far from the truth. Jesus. He couldn’t believe someone had done this to her. In the back of his mind something began to niggle at him.
Realizing he’d been putting off looking closely at her, he reeled in his temper and knelt in front of her. “Julia, how badly are you hurt?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m not. I’m just . . . shaken.”
He could plainly see that she was a hell of a lot more than just shaken. Reaching out, he touched her, ran both hands down her arms. Her skin was cool to the touch and she was trembling violently. “I need for you to tell me what happened,” he said.
When she didn’t look at him, he gently took her chin in his palm and forced her gaze to his. “Come on, honey. Help me out here. Who did this to you?”
She lifted large, fragile eyes to his, and John felt it like a physical touch. Within the depths of her gaze he saw the remnants of terror. The jagged edge of shock. A jumble of emotions he couldn’t begin to decipher.
“It was him.” She said the words in a voice so low he had to lean forward to hear.
“Who?”
“The stalker. He was . . . in the shop. He . . .” Her voice cracked. “He was waiting for me when I arrived home after dinner.”
John looked her over as she spoke. Both knees were cut. Most of the buttons were missing from her blouse and she was clutching it together with a white-knuckled hand. Her slender throat looked as if someone had gouged the skin with his nails. But worst of all was her face. Her left cheekbone was swollen and tinged purple. How could someone garner enough hatred and rage to hurt something so utterly beautiful? What kind of man could hurt such a generous, giving woman? A woman whose smile could light the night.
“Julia, you know Vester is in jail,” he said gently.
Her gaze didn’t waiver. “It was him, damn it. The same man who came at me in the alley.”
John didn’t believe in coincidences. But what were the odds that two men would go after the same woman in the span of a single week? “How do you know he was the same guy?”
“He was wearing the same mask as before. The Mardi Gras mask.”
An unsettling chill went through John. He knew there was a possibility some scumbag defense lawyer had gotten a judge to grant Vester bail. But he didn’t think so. With Vester sitting in a jail cell, that could mean only one thing. Vester wasn’t the stalker. And John had left Julia alone and unprotected . . .
“Did you get a look at him?” he asked. “Can you give me a physical description?”
She shook her head. “It happened so fast. The shop was dark. The lights weren’t working, but I figured it was just the fuse again.” Her throat bobbed when she swallowed. “God, John, I was so scared.”
He swallowed outrage, took her hand and squeezed. “It’s okay.”
“I tried to yank off the mask a couple of times, but he kept . . . hitting me.”
Cold rage poured over him at the image of some sick fuck striking her. Julia wasn’t helpless, but she was small-framed and probably didn’t weigh much more than a hundred and ten pounds soaking wet. The very thought made him grind his teeth in fury.
“John, it was him, damn it. I’m sure of it.”
Something cold skittered down John’s spine. “Okay. I believe you.”
Shaking her head, she put her face in her hands. “I tried to fight him off, but he was in a rage. I hit him, but he just kept coming.”
John had never been much of a toucher. He didn’t give hugs. He didn’t much like receiving them, either. But for the first time in his adult life, the need to touch, to comfort, overwhelmed him.
He set both hands on her shoulders and gently squeezed, wishing he was man enough to do more. Like take her in his arms and hold her until she stopped shaking. “I’m going to call Mitch.”
Her head shot up. Her eyes were alarmed when they met his. “I want to go home.”
Taking in the extent of her injuries, he decided she would be going to the hospital first. But because he didn’t think she was ready to hear it, he said nothing.
“Hey, man, you want me to call the cops?”
John looked at the bouncer. The man was holding his cell phone in one hand, a smoldering cigarette in the other. “I’ll take care of it,” John said. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing.”
John turned his attention back to Julia. She was shaking violently. Her arms. Shoulders. Legs. She wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t stand to see her like this. “Honey, I’m going to drive you to the hospital and get you checked out.”
She looked at him. “I don’t want to go to the hospital.”
An alarm went off in his head. Julia was too levelheaded to think ignoring her injuries was going to make them go away. His experience as a cop reminded him that many times the victims of sexual assault were the ones who wanted to avoid a trip to the hospital. The thought made him sick.
He took her hand. “Did he . . .” Not wanting to finish, he let the words trail.
She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “I thought he was going to . . .” She drew a shaky breath, used it to pull herself together. “He had a crucifix in his hand.” Lowering her head, she rubbed at the spot between her eyes. “He tried to . . . He tried to . . .”
The thought made him nauseous. “With the crucifix?”
She nodded. “If I hadn’t gotten away, he would have raped me with it. I’m sure of it.”
He squeezed her shoulder, then looked at the bouncer. “Did you see anyone in the alley?”
The bouncer shook his head. “If I had, it would be the last time he touched a woman. I don’t tolerate that shit.”
John handed the man one of his old cards from back when he’d been with the Chicago PD, with the old numbers crossed out and his cell phone number written in. “If you remember anything or see anything, give me a call, will you?”
“You bet.”
John turned back to Julia. She was deathly pale. Probably close to going into shock. “Let’s get you checked out.”
“John—”
“I’ll call Mi
tch on the way.” Bending slightly, he reached out to lift her hair to get a better look at the angry red marks on her throat. “What happened here?”
“I’m not sure,” she began. “It was . . . strange. I think he had some type of vial in his hand. He splashed me with something. At first I thought it was water. Then it started to burn and I realized it must be some kind of chemical.” Her gaze darkened. “He kept calling me a succubus. Quoting things out of context from the Bible.”
“Sounds similar to what happened before.”
“That’s what I thought, too.”
“What kinds of things did he quote?”
“I was too scared to make sense of most of it.” Her brows snapped together. “He called me a succubus. And he said something about holy water blistering the skin of Satan’s followers.”
He thought about the burns and shook his head in disgust. “Anything else you can think of?”
“No, but I think once he finished with me, he was going to kill me.”
John had never liked hospitals. Ever since he was six years old and had had his tonsils removed, he’d known they were places he would try to avoid at all costs the rest of his life.
Even at one A.M., the emergency room was alive with activity. He guided Julia to the registration desk and hit the bell with his palm. A plump African-American woman looked from Julia to John and handed him a clipboard with a form to fill out. “Don’t forget to sign at the bottom. A nurse will be out in a few minutes.”
John found a relatively quiet corner in the waiting area and ushered Julia into a chair beside him. Beneath the lights, her complexion was alarmingly pale. He tried not to be obvious about it, but he was more than a little worried.
“Stop looking at me that way.”
Realizing he’d been staring, he frowned but held her gaze. “What way?”
“Like you can’t make eye contact because all you see when you look at me are the bruises.” She stared at him with those wide blue eyes. “I’m not a victim.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
Letting out a sigh, she leaned forward and put her face in her hands. “I didn’t mean to snap.”
“You’re entitled.”
She raised her head and looked at him over the tops of her fingers. “I hate that this happened.”
“Me, too.”
“I feel sick inside. I feel vulnerable and weak and I hate it.”
“Julia, you had no control over what happened.”
“I know. But that’s just it. I had no control. I was totally at his mercy.” Another sigh shuddered out of her. “It’s the most terrible feeling in the world.”
The need to reach out to her was strong, but something stopped him. “Mitch should be here in a few minutes.” He paused. “Do you feel up to answering some questions?”
“No, but I’ll do whatever it takes for them to catch this creep.”
“That’s the spirit.” He paused. “I should probably call someone from your family and let them know what happened.”
“Call Claudia.”
Before he could answer, a nurse wearing green scrubs and pushing a wheelchair approached them. “We got an exam room open, so I can take you back now.”
Julia winced when she rose, so John took her arm to steady her. “The police are on the way,” he said to the nurse.
The woman looked from John to Julia. “Ma’am, were you raped?”
Julia shook her head. “No.”
“Okay, honey, that’s good.” She usurped John’s position and offered the chair. “Go ahead and get in the wheelchair and I’ll cart you back to an exam room, okay?”
Julia nodded, her expression pained as she eased herself into the chair.
John wanted to stay with her, but wasn’t sure if that was what she wanted, so he opted to remain in the waiting area and use the time to make some very difficult calls.
TWENTY-FOUR
Julia lay on the gurney in a wrinkled cotton gown and tried not to think about everything that had happened. Not an easy task considering she hurt all the way to the ends of her hair. She’d spent the last hour submitting to a battery of X-rays, needles and invasive prodding, and all she could think about now was going home.
“Yoo hoo.”
She raised her head to see Claudia peek her head around the curtain. She wasn’t sure why the sight of her sister brought tears to her eyes, but it did. “Hey,” she said.
“Oh, honey.” Shaking her head, Claudia approached the bed and took Julia’s hand. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“Okay being a relative term,” Julia said. “Do I look as bad as I feel?”
“Let’s just say you’re going to need some extra concealer for a while.”
“Just what I wanted to hear.” Tears averted, Julia lay back and sighed. “Did John tell you what happened?”
Claudia grimaced, jerked her head. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
“Thanks.”
“How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I was run over by a truck on the way to the hospital. Twice.” Julia sighed.
“Twice, huh?”
“Don’t make me smile. It hurts.”
“Sorry.”
But she did smile, and she was vastly glad she had her younger sister to keep things in perspective.
“Did they give you something for pain?”
“Yeah, but I’m still waiting for it to kick in. No more jokes.”
Claudia smiled, but it was brief. “Are they going to admit you?”
Julia raised her hand, inordinately pleased that it wasn’t shaking. “Not if I have any say in the matter.”
“What did the doc say?”
“If my test results come back okay, I can go home.” Taking a deep breath, she asked the question she’d been avoiding. “Has anyone called Dad?”
“John called him after he called me. Dad and Parker are on the way.”
Julia closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason she thought it was going to be hard to face her father. Maybe because for so many years she’d pushed so hard for her independence and now he could say “I told you so.”
“He was always dead set against my moving into the Quarter,” she said.
“He’s overprotective,” Claudia said.
“Maybe he was right.”
Claudia gripped her hand more tightly. “Don’t say that. You love the Quarter. You love your shop. Honey, this could have happened no matter where you were living.”
“I wish I hadn’t written that blasted book.”
“Julia, just because some nutcase has taken it upon himself to make your life a living hell doesn’t mean you should deprive yourself of something you feel passionately about.”
“I don’t feel safe in my own home anymore, Claudia. I don’t feel safe in the shop. I don’t even know how he got in. My God, if I hadn’t gotten away, he would have—”
“Honey, you did get away. You’re safe now, and you’re going to be all right.”
But for the second time in five minutes Julia had to blink back tears. Feeling restless and annoyed, she shook her head. “Where’s John?”
“He and Mitch are in the hall waiting to talk to you.” Claudia gave her a small smile. “He’s been hovering like a worried mama.”
A ray of warmth cut through the cold that had taken up residence inside her, and Julia smiled back.
“Do you feel up to answering some questions?”
Reliving the most terrifying moments of her life was the last thing she wanted to do, but Julia knew she didn’t have a choice. She wanted them to find the man responsible, and then she wanted him to pay. “I’m ready.”
“That’s my big sis.” Giving her hand a final squeeze, Claudia leaned close and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “If you need anything, I’ll be right outside.”
Julia knew it was silly, but she didn’t want her sister to leave. “Thanks.”
John and Mitch walked into the
curtained treatment room the instant Claudia left. Julia worked up a smile, but she could tell by the men’s collective expressions that they weren’t buying it.
Mitch looked downright grim as he stepped up to the gurney. “How you doing, kid?”
“Doc thinks I’m going to live.”
John held his ground at the foot of the bed. “Are they going to admit you?”
“They’ll know as soon as the X-rays are back from Radiology.”
“Do you feel up to answering a few questions?” Mitch asked.
“If it will help you catch him,” she said, letting some of the anger into her voice.
Mitch pulled a pad from his jacket pocket. “Take your time. Start at the beginning. Tell us everything you remember, even if you think it might not be important. Okay?”
She barely recognized her own voice when she started to speak. She began with her leaving the restaurant, walking the Quarter and arriving at the shop. She could feel her heart pounding as she took them through every horrifying moment of the assault. It was extremely difficult, but she spoke candidly, telling them about the stalker tearing her shirt, splashing her with some kind of burning liquid, about him trying to rape her with the crucifix. She relayed the Bible quotes as best she could remember, but she’d been so terrified she wasn’t sure she got all the words right.
When she finished, she was shaking so badly she could see the sheets quivering. Sweat slicked her forehead. She tried hard to look unaffected, but there was no way she was pulling it off.
“Did you notice anything about him that might help us identify him?” Mitch asked.
“I couldn’t see his face because of the mask.”
“Did anything about him look familiar in any way?” John put in. “The way he moved? Tattoos? Birthmarks? Teeth?”
Julia shook her head.
“What about height and weight?” Mitch asked.
“He was shorter than you,” Julia said. “Not large, but very strong. I’d guess his weight to be around one hundred seventy pounds.”
“Eyes? Hair color?”
A flash of memory jolted her. Murderous eyes staring at her though the slits in the mask. The memory made her shiver. “His eyes are blue. Light blue. I saw them through the mask.”