Betrayed (Rosato & DiNunzio, #2)(74)

Carlos pulled her close, pressed his wet lips to her, and bit her hard on the lips, leaving spittle on her lips, the revolting kiss of a sadist.

Judy exploded in disgust, kneeing him with all her might. Carlos crumpled in pain and shock.

Judy reeled but kept her wits about her. She broke free, whipped her can of Mace from her blazer pocket, and aimed it directly at his eyes.

“No, no, NO!” Judy roared, scrambling backwards toward her car. “Stay away from me! Stay back!”

She jumped into the car, locked the doors, started the engine, and reversed at speed, almost veering off the driveway.

Her heart didn’t stop hammering until she reached the city.





Chapter Thirty-two

“Penny, down!” Judy petted the dog’s fluffy head, set her purse on the floor, and closed her apartment door behind her, dismayed to find her mother coming from the living room. The eleven o’clock news was on TV, and she’d thought her mother would have already gone to bed. Judy tilted her head down, because she didn’t want her mother to see the bite mark from Carlos, on her mouth.

“Honey, what kept you?”

“Sorry, I had a lot of work. Is Aunt Barb okay?” Judy kept her head down, making much of petting the dog, who was sniffing her shoes and legs, undoubtedly getting the scent of the dogs from the barracks.

“She’s fine and says hi. Her room is private until she gets a roommate, and there were lots of flowers waiting for her, one from that estates lawyer you know. Foxman, his name is?”

“How nice.” Judy kept her head turned away from her mother as she straightened up and headed for the staircase. “Be right down, I need to go to the bathroom.”

“What?”

“I have to pee!” Judy called after her, taking the stairs two by two, with Penny bounding after her.

“Honey?”

Judy hustled into the small bathroom, switching on the light and letting Penny in, because the dog would not be denied. She closed the door, checked her reflection in the mirror over the sink, and grimaced, which hurt. The bite mark looked worse than it had in the rearview mirror, splitting her lower lip on the side, leaving it bloody and swollen. A tremor of fear rippled through her body, an aftershock of the trauma and the very thought of what could have happened.

Judy heard her mother’s footsteps on the stairs and got busy. She twisted on the faucet, pumped some cleanser into her hand, and washed her face and mouth with warm water. The wound stung, so she switched to cold, snatched a washrag from the rack, ran it under the water, and pressed it to her lips, trying to control the swelling.

“Judy, what’s going on?”

“I’m in the bathroom, Mom.” Judy checked the washrag, and a pinkish stain blotted the terrycloth, but the bleeding had stopped.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” Judy kept her tone impatient to back her mother off. “I’m washing up and going to the bathroom.”

“With the dog?”

“If I leave her outside, she’ll scratch the door.”

“I took her out, but you know, I think you might have a flea problem.”

“Really.” Judy cringed. It was the last thing she wanted for her aunt, to worry about fleas.

“You’ll have to get her dipped. Stop that before it starts. You have no idea what a headache that can be, washing the sheets and everything.”

“Good to know, thanks.” Judy held the cold compress on her lip and reached over to flush the toilet. Penny kept smelling her legs and shoes, sniffing excitedly. “Mom, can I have some privacy?”

“Since when do you want privacy in the bathroom? When you were growing up, you left the bathroom door open all the time.” Judy’s mother wiggled the doorknob. “Honey, let me in. I thought I saw something on your face.”

“I … hurt myself a little.” Suddenly Judy’s cell phone started ringing, and she pulled it from her pocket, checking the screen. It was Detective Boone, and she couldn’t miss the call.

“Judy?”

“Mom, I’ll be right out. Frank’s on the phone and I want to talk to him. Can you please give me a minute?”

“Judy, what’s going on? Something is going on.”

The phone rang again, and Judy had no choice but to answer, but she couldn’t very well fill Detective Boone in without being overheard by her mother. She pressed ANSWER and said, “Hi, thanks for calling back.”

“Judy?” Detective Boone asked, concerned. “Are you okay? What were you doing at the barracks?”

“I’m fine, and I’m home now. Can I call you tomorrow morning and fill you in?”

“Sure,” Detective Boone answered, sounding puzzled. “But I got a call late tonight from Father Vega at the church.”

“Oh, really.” Judy tried to keep her tone casual for her mother’s benefit.

“Judy, we would appreciate it if you would refrain from stirring up speculation—”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow morning. I have to go, okay?”

“You’re doing a great deal of harm, fomenting trouble, and if the press gets wind of it—”

“They won’t, I have to go. Bye!”

Detective Boone paused. “Fine, good night.”