Due Process (Joe Dillard #9)(6)

“Right,” Riddle said. “You can take off now. I’ll handle it from here.”

Riddle walked back into the room where Sheila Self was sitting. She hadn’t moved.

“Can I get you anything?” Riddle said.

“A different life,” Sheila said.

“I think we all wish for that once in a while,” Riddle said. “Yours truly included. But sometimes we’re stuck with what we have. We make the best of it, right?”

“I wish I could talk to a woman detective.”

“Sorry, we’re fresh out. Looks like you’ll have to deal with me, but I’m not such a bad guy once you get to know me. I’m sure this has to be difficult, but I need to hear everything you can remember about last night. What you’ve described to Officer James is aggravated kidnapping and aggravated rape. Those are extremely serious charges. If we can identify the men who did it and they’re tried and convicted, they’ll go to prison for a long time.”

“They should go to prison,” Sheila said quietly. “They deserve to go to prison.”

“When did you first find out about the party?” Riddle said.

“My escort service called me Friday afternoon around five. Asked if I could dance at this party last night on Elm Street. I said I’d do it and I called my cousin to see if she’d keep my kids. I told her I had a date. She said yes, so I was good to go. She picked my kids up about six.”

“She picked your kids up from where?”

“My apartment.”

“A man live with you?”

“No. Just the kids. We live in Section 8 housing over by the Tweetsie Trail. I get food stamps, Aid for Dependent Children, all that. I go to school part time and I dance and work for the escort service on the side. It’s decent money sometimes.”

“But you don’t declare any of it, right? Are you a prostitute as well?”

“No. I’m a dancer and an escort. Whose side are you on here?”

“Just doing my job. No offense. And you got to the party when?”

“Around midnight.”

“How’d you get there?”

“I already told the other officer. I took a cab from my apartment.”

“What did you do between six and midnight?”

“My boyfriend came over and we partied a little.”

“What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“I need to know his name.”

“Bobby Vines.”

“Did you have sex?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You’re a real peach,” Riddle said. “I’m trying to help you and you’re jerking me around. The nurse told the officer who brought you in here they found sperm in you. It’d be good to know if this sperm came from your boyfriend.”

“It might have.”

“Fine. Okay. Did your boyfriend know you were going to strip at a party at midnight, and if so, what did he think about it?”

“He doesn’t care. He knows I have to make money to take care of my kids and pay my rent. He doesn’t give me money.”

“Is he the father of your children?”

“No.”

“Who is?”

“I’m not sure.”

That’s great. That’s just grand, Riddle thought to himself. This is getting better by the second. She’ll be such a sympathetic victim in front of a jury.

“I understand you’re on probation for a drug possession charge. What was the drug?”

“What difference does it make?”

“You’re really starting to piss me off, you know that? I can find out, but that’s extra work and you making me do extra work would make me feel not so sympathetic toward you. You want to do it that way?”

“It was heroin.”

“So you did some heroin last night before you went to dance?”

“No, no heroin. I did some ecstasy and I drank two beers and did a shot of tequila. After I got to the party, somebody handed me a drink, though, and I think there might have been something in it. I lost it after that. Just really lost it, you know? All I have are flashes of memory. I can see hands on my arm pulling me into the bathroom. I can hear the music playing and people hollering.”

“This hand on your arm, was it white or black?”

“It was black.”

“So you remember that? Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how sure?”

“Seven or eight.”

“Was there a light on in the bathroom?”

“I don’t think so. Maybe some light filtering through the window from outside, but I can’t say for sure.”

“Did these guys talk to you? Did they talk at all? Did you hear any names?”

“I think they were talking a little, calling me bitch and slut. Talking dirty.”

“Did you see a weapon of any kind?”

“I think I remember one of them had a broom and said he was going to stick the handle in me.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Were you in a lot of pain?”