The Visitor(16)

Devlin’s gaze flicked over me and darkened before he turned to Prescott. “A word, Detective?”

The older cop gave him an irritated scowl. “I’m in the middle of an interview.”

“I’ll be brief.”

Prescott nodded curtly and walked to the door. From past observations, I knew that Devlin commanded the respect of his peers, but the privileges and connections that came with his background also bred a certain amount of resentment.

The two men conversed in the hallway for a few moments and then Prescott returned to the foot of my bed while Devlin took up a position at the window.

“Did the suspect speak to you?” Prescott asked. “Did he grunt or groan during the struggle? Did you hear anything that would identify him as male?”

I hesitated. “I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I blacked out for a moment. I thought I heard a voice, but it seemed dreamlike. I’m not even sure it was real.”

“What did this voice say to you?”

I strained to recall. “I don’t remember.”

“Nothing at all?” he pressed.

I shook my head.

Prescott exchanged a look with Devlin. “You described the assailant as being a little under six feet and thin. He wore a mask over his head.”

“Yes, like a ski mask.” I gestured vaguely toward my face. “I couldn’t see anything but his eyes.”

“So you never got a look at him. Under the circumstances, you can’t be one hundred percent certain the suspect was male, can you?”

“No, I suppose not. I just assumed...the way he attacked me—”

“What about smells?” Prescott interjected. “Cologne? Perfume?”

“I didn’t notice any.” Which was odd given my recent sensitivity to scents.

“Rings, watches?”

I shook my head.

“Scars, tattoos?”

“It all happened so fast and it was dark inside the house...” My gaze strayed back to Devlin. He stood with his back to the window, arms folded, head slightly bowed. I felt a quiver go through me at his unwavering concentration. Would I ever get used to the fierceness of that stare?

Prescott said something to me then and I had to wrench my gaze from Devlin’s. “I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?”

“Have you seen any suspicious cars in the neighborhood? Any strangers lurking about?”

“No, but I live on a busy street. I might not notice anyone new.”

“Do you have any idea what the suspect was after?”

“I don’t keep cash in the house, and the only items of any real value are my laptop and cameras, some equipment I use for work, a pearl necklace. Nothing that could be sold for very much money.”

Prescott shrugged. “He may not have needed a lot. A hundred bucks can keep a meth head buzzed for a couple of days.”

“What makes you think he was looking for drug money?” I asked.

“The way he went after you,” Devlin answered, drawing another frown from Prescott. “It’s not unusual for a meth addict to display extreme aggression, especially if he feels cornered or threatened.”

“Yes, I’ve read that,” I said. “So you think the break-in was random?”

“I didn’t say that.” Devlin’s eyes were so fathomless I hadn’t a clue what he was thinking. “What I am saying is that the suspect’s behavior wasn’t rational. You said he leaped over the desk to get at you and he kept coming even when you fought back. He could have escaped through the same door he entered when he saw you, but instead he pursued you despite the ski mask he wore to hide his features.”

My mind spun back to the attack. The assailant had been relentless, but his behavior hadn’t struck me as frenetic. To the contrary, he’d seemed in control and coldly determined.

I said none of this aloud, however, because I was anxious for Prescott to leave so that I could have a private conversation with Devlin.

To my relief, the detective closed his notebook and returned the pen to his pocket. “You’ll need to come in and sign your statement once you’re released from the hospital. In the meantime, if you remember anything else, give me a call.”

Devlin followed him out of the room and a moment later, I again heard their voices in the hallway.

I was tempted to climb out of bed and eavesdrop at the door, but the effort seemed beyond my strength. Every bone in my body had started to ache. I didn’t dare glance in a mirror. I’d never been a vain person, but I could only imagine what I must look like.

When Devlin returned, I was in the process of pouring myself a cup of water from the insulated pitcher on the nightstand. He came over and finished the task for me, which was probably a good thing since my hands weren’t as steady as they might have been.

He stood staring down at me until I had the strongest urge to reach up and run my fingers through the tousled strands of his hair, to brush my knuckles against the unaccustomed scruff on his lower face. But more than anything, I wanted to pull him to me for a long, comforting kiss.

I did none of those things because in that fragile moment, I was more aware than ever of the distance that had been growing between us.

The silence seemed to stretch forever, but only a few seconds passed as he waited for me to finish the water. Then he took the cup and returned it to the stand.