Executive Protection(22)

“Not even a tan line.” He held up his hand for her inspection.

“I’d say congratulations but it doesn’t feel like that to me.”

“Me neither.” Why did this keep getting so personal? He was supposed to question her as a professional officer of the law. Instead, he felt as though they were about to go on a date.

“I loved my husband and I thought he loved me,” she said. “I found out he didn’t when he told me he met someone. I think that’s why I lost my ability to make good judgment.”

“Temporarily.” Her marriage had ended the same as his.

“What happened with yours?” she asked.

“Hey, Casanova,” his partner called. “Time to go.”

Glad to be spared having to talk any more about that, he glanced back at his partner.

Darcy faced Avery again. “You’ll need to go to the hospital so that your injuries are recorded.”

She nodded in understanding.

“Some officers will be there with you,” Darcy said. “The paramedics can take you if you like.” He’d offer, but his partner seemed to want to leave and this was getting too intimate for him.

“I have my car here. I can take care of that myself.”

He nodded, and then did something he normally didn’t do. He took out his business card and gave it to her—for a personal reason.

* * *

Blinking his eyes open, Darcy checked his digital clock: 3:00 a.m. His cell phone chimed the ringtone he had set for unknown callers.

Reaching over, he looked at the number. He didn’t recognize it. But it was 3:00 a.m. What if it was urgent?

He answered to the frantic sound of a woman’s voice. He couldn’t tell what she was saying.

Swinging his feet over the side of the bed, he sat up. “Who is this?”

After a few panting breaths, she said, “Avery.”

Avery Fletcher, the sexual assault victim. “What’s wrong?”

He stood and went to his closet to get dressed.

“I thought I heard something. And I woke up from a dream.” She started crying.

She’d come in the day before to give her statement. More of that attraction had brewed until she’d begun answering questions, reliving her ordeal. Though she hadn’t actually been raped, she’d gone through a frightening experience.

Living alone, she was clearly having trouble adjusting to normal life.

“Do you want me to come over?” Holding the cell between his ear and shoulder, he put on jeans.

“Yes,” her fragile voice said.

“Be there in fifteen.” He finished dressing and drove fast toward her downtown apartment building. All the way there, he questioned the wisdom of doing that.

* * *

Avery let him into her top-floor apartment. High ceilings had crown molding. Gold-shaded light fixtures hung in a cluster of three over the living room. There, dark hardwood floors offset a charcoal couch with white textured pillows, checkered wingback chairs across and a gray-and-white-mosaic rug with modern coffee table between. The far wall was one large window and there were two small armchairs with a petite block table between them. The kitchen was to his left and had gold granite countertops and stainless-steel appliances. No clutter.

Yesterday she’d told him she was a nurse at the University of Northern North Carolina Hospital. Not the caliber of Duke, but still ranked high. And she had a bit of a commute from here. He tried not to dwell on the coincidence that Thad was falling for a nurse, too. They were best friends, though. This could be for real.

“This is nice.”

She glanced over her living room. “I didn’t spend much on the furniture. I just like to decorate.”

It looked pricey. “Remind me never to show you my place.”

She laughed. “A true bachelor, huh?”

“Big TV. Something to sit on. Bed. Nothing on the walls.”

His wife hadn’t been much of a decorator, certainly nothing like Avery, but she’d filled the house a lot better than he could. Avery’s talent for decorating gave her more of a feminine essence, much more than his wife. Funny how it took meeting Avery to realize that.

The moment stretched on and grew awkward.

Avery was the first to break the silence. “Look. I’m really sorry I called you and made you drive all the way over here. I’m okay now. I just got scared.”

“It’s okay. Mind if I have a look around?” She’d said she’d heard something, or thought she had.

“No.” She stepped aside. “There isn’t much. This and a bathroom and bedroom down here and a loft up there.” She pointed to a railing that overlooked the living room.

He went there first. She had a desk up there and another artful set of armchairs with a table between. Double French doors led to a balcony. He checked the handle and found it locked. Downstairs, he went into her bedroom. The brown comforter with beige floral stitching was rumpled with white sheets and pillows, a teal throw near to falling off the end of the bed. There was a brown and white feinting couch angled near the window and a brown dresser with beige, round knobs adjacent to that against the wall. He stepped over frieze carpeting toward a walk-in closet. After checking that, he peered out the window. Lights illuminated a swimming pool.

Back in the living room, he saw her still standing near the entry, arms folded and one hand rubbing her arm as though she were cold.