Silent Scream (13 page)

“What time are you coming by to try to get a statement?”

Sam stopped in front of the patrol car and opened the driver’s door.  “About noon.”  He slipped behind the wheel.  “Maybe by that time you can talk some sense in that stubborn head of hers.”

Shrugging, Gabriel said, “Yeah, right.  In some ways, she reminds me of Jessie.  She would have been stubborn like that.”  His ragged voice sounded like sandpaper had been dragged across it, and he peered beyond his brother, toward a destination neither of them could ever visit—the past.

“Don’t go there,” Sam said, plucking up his sunglasses from the console and slipping them on.  “There’s no point.”

“You’re wrong,” Gabriel countered, glaring.  “The point is it keeps her close to me.  It lets me remember all the reasons I wish she were still here.”  His voice, steeped with pain, faltered and broke.

Sam snapped the seatbelt buckle in place.  “Maybe you’ve forgotten, but she’s never coming back, little brother.  Ever.”

Sam tugged the door closed and jammed the key into the ignition.   As he started the car, he flipped on the wipers to clear the newly fallen snow.  Gabriel stepped back, watching him pull away.

As the sun glinted off the snow on the car’s hood, Gabriel blinked, shaking his head.  “No, Sam, I haven’t forgotten.  Time won’t let me forget.  And I don’t think it will let you, either, no matter what you say.”

Once the car had vanished, he turned and walked slowly back to the porch, where he dusted off the flakes that had landed on his jacket.  He stomped his feet before entering the house, where he saw Yolanda and Maddie sitting on the couch, huddled together, Yolanda with one arm draped around Maddie, trying to comfort her.  As he entered, they both looked up.  Tear streaks glistened down Maddie’s face, and, as though sensing Gabriel spotted them, she wiped them away and averted her gaze. 

Yolanda looked from Gabriel to Maddie and back to the fireman.  “I’ll go start dinner.”  Rising, she patted Maddie’s shoulder.  “Will you be all right?”

“Yeah,” Maddie said, leaning back against the sofa.  “I’ll be fine.”  Nodding, Yolanda slipped into the hallway toward the kitchen.

“How much longer will you be in the cast?” Gabriel asked, watching as Maddie rubbed her hand up and down its length.

“Three weeks, probably.”  Her hand paused.  “I don’t suppose there’s any way to get it off early for good behavior.”  She rested her head against the sofa and closed her eyes.  “It’s been a long day.”

“There’s no doubt about that.”  He sat down on the couch next to her.  “I’m sure by now you’re feeling pretty  exhausted.”

“Yeah, I am.”   Her eyelids fluttered and parted, allowing her to stare at him through half-lidded slits.  “You didn’t have to volunteer to stay here.”  She pressed her hand into her lap and shifted her feet, trying to get comfortable so maybe the throbbing in her ankle would ease up.

“I know.”

“I’m not a charity case,” she whispered, turning away.

“No, you’re just vulnerable, and you don’t know who to trust. And you have a right not to want to trust anyone.”  Feeling his keys jabbing his skin through his jeans, he reached into his pocket and pulled them out.  They jangled together as he set them on the coffee table.  “Not like most people need a reason to distrust others, but you—you  have a reason, Maddie.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.” she offered in a quiet voice.

“That makes two of us,” he said, looking toward the television even though the screen was dark.  He propped his elbows on his thighs and laced his fingers together.

“Did they ever find the man who killed her?”

He didn’t answer for a moment as he thought of the day after Jessie’s body had been discovered.  A week had gone by and no word.  Then two.  Then a month.   His heart started to beat faster as he remembered the day he’d finally realized no one was ever going to be arrested. 
God
, he thought, lowering his head and cradling it in his hands,
so many years since that day, and it still feels like yesterday.
  “No.  Not even close.  There were no witnesses, and if the police had built a theory about who the murderer had been, we never knew, which was probably best because I think Sam just might have killed him.”

Chilled, Maddie drew the afghan from the back of the couch and covered her legs and feet.  “I bet you’re less than thrilled with this babysitting stint.  I’m sure you’re pretty sick of me.”

“I’m not babysitting.”  He frowned and faced her, his eyebrows furrowing together as he tucked the blanket around her feet, trying to eliminate holes for drafts.  “And how do you know what I think of you?”

“Maybe because I expect it to be the same thing I think of me.”  Leaning over, Maddie touched the swollen ankle and winced from the pain.   It still looked purple and swollen, sure signs of a nasty sprain, and she was going to have to stay off  it. “I’m not very strong.”  She drew her leg and ankle onto the couch to prop it up, willing to try anything to get rid of the pain.

“You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever seen, but you don’t see it.  You think because you heal others it should be no problem to heal yourself, but it doesn’t work that way.”  His gaze shifted to her wounded ankle.  “He didn’t just break your body.  He wounded you inside, and even the best damned MD in the world can’t fix that.  Besides, being hurt doesn’t mean the same thing as being weak, at least not that way.  You have reasons to be afraid, but you’re still trying to find some way to deal with this god-awful pain.  I’d say that’s pretty strong.”

She toyed with the tassel strands of the afghan before finally looking up and asking quietly, “What happens if I do give a statement?”  She gathered a fistful of covering in her hand and squeezed.

“He’ll be arrested, and he won’t be able to hurt you anymore.”

“But I’ll still have to testify, won’t I?”  Her voice came out breathy, panicked.

He averted his gaze and focused instead on the carpet.  “Yes.”  Gabriel stood and began pacing around the room as he thought about her in a courtroom trying to give testimony against a cop.  He shook his head, trying to shake the image loose, and wished like hell there were another way.  “You would have to testify.”  Anger roughened the sound of his voice, and he could feel it steeling his shoulders.  His pace increased to match the rapid hammering of his heart.

“And what if he isn’t found guilty?  How do I live with this?”  Her eyes watered, and tears pooled there.  The rigid line of her frown softened and broke as pain skimmed across her features.

He stopped and shook his head.  “That doesn’t make sense.  Why wouldn’t a jury find him guilty?”

“He’s a cop.”  Her voice wavered as tears spilled down her face.

Gabriel flinched and knelt in front of her.  “That doesn’t mean he gets away with this, Maddie.  That means he should be more accountable for this crime, not less.”  He touched the side of her face, trying desperately to ignore the way she winced as his hand came close and his fingers brushed the hair from her temple and caressed the newly healed skin that had seamed together into a jagged scar.  “Nobody should hurt like this.  You didn’t do anything to deserve this, no matter what you think,” he whispered, his deep voice rumbling.  His fingers lightly traced her cheek and moved to her chin, where he perched his fingers to lift her face so he could meet her gaze.  “There’s nothing a human being can do to deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Who’s to say he won’t come after me?”  She drew her knees to her chest, mimicking a fetal position.

“I say.”  Gabriel folded his arms across his chest.  “Sam says.”  He noticed the way her body had compacted into itself and now trembled, and he wanted so damned much to straighten it, and take away the fear.  “Do you really think we’d help you testify and not keep you safe?  Even though it’s hard, I’m here–”

”Then why are you staying?” Maddie countered as the shaking increased.  “I told you you didn’t have to stay.”

He grabbed her shoulders.  “I’m not leaving, no matter what you say and no matter how hard it gets—and  it’s not hard because of you, even though that’s what you’re thinking.”  When she tried to break from him, he gripped her shoulders even more firmly.  “I still dream about my sister, Maddie.  I dream I should have been there to help her, that I could have stopped this man from killing her, that I should have known something or done something or even just felt something different the night she left this earth.”  His shoulders slumped forward.  He touched her cheek.  “That’s why this is hard.  I’d re-write the past if given half a chance, but I can’t.  The only thing I can do is help you, and that has to be enough.”

“Dinner is ready,” Yolanda said, stepping into the room with a plate of chicken and vegetables and a glass of water as she looked cautiously from Gabriel to Maddie.  “Have I interrupted something?” She offered the plate and glass to Maddie.

Gabriel stood.  “No.  We were just talking about tomorrow.” 

As he headed toward the kitchen, Yolanda called after him, “I fixed you a plate.  I just couldn’t carry it.”

Gabriel turned at the doorway and smiled.  “Thank you.  I’ll get it.  I think Maddie could probably use a few moments without me, anyway.”  He disappeared down the hall.

“Is everything all right?” Yolanda asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.  She watched Maddie’s trembling hands begin toying with the silverware and actually dropping the fork on the carpet.

“Damn,” she whispered, reaching to collect it.

“I’ll get you a new one,” Yolanda offered as she plucked the dirty fork from Maddie’s hand and headed down the hallway and into the kitchen, where she saw Gabriel standing by the sink, cell phone in hand. 

“No, I think you might want to come tonight, after all,” he said and glanced distractedly at Yolanda.  “She’s a wreck, and I don’t think I’m doing her much good.”  He paused and nodded.  “Yeah, that’s it.  Talk to you in a few.”  He folded up his phone and looked at Yolanda.  “I called a counselor to come and talk to Maddie.  She’ll be here in a few moments.”

“Did you tell Maddie this?” Yolanda asked, opening the silverware drawer and pulling out a new fork.  As she closed the drawer, she leveled her gaze at Gabriel.  “Did you?”

“No.  She would have told me not to bother, but at this point I see her coming unraveled, and somebody damned well better bother.”

“Is it the same one who came before?”  Yolanda gripped the fork so tightly her knuckles turned white.

“I think so.”  He shoved the phone in his pocket and grabbed his plate.

As he headed into the living room, Yolanda grabbed his arm.  “I want to thank you for all you’ve tried to do since this whole thing began.  Maybe Maddie doesn’t want to admit she needs help, but she does.”

“I know.”  He offered a half smile.  “But you don’t have to thank me for doing the right thing.  I’d like to think anybody would have done it for her and that I just happened to be there.”

Chapter Thirteen

The three of them sat together in the living room, eating quietly.  Every once and a while, Yolanda would look from Maddie to Gabriel.  As Maddie finished her last bite, Gabriel stood.  In one hand, he carried his dirty plate, and he held out the other for hers.  “Let me take that for you.”  He offered a slight smile that disappeared as he saw a frown etch  lines across her forehead.

“You act like I can’t walk.”

Shrugging, Gabriel nodded toward her swollen ankle.  “You can’t.  Limping doesn’t count.”  He took her plate and sauntered toward the kitchen.

Arching her back, Maddie threw herself against the back of the couch, sighing exasperatedly.  “This day feels like it’s never going to end.”

Before Yolanda could reply, the doorbell chimed.  Maddie rubbed her forehead.  “Gee, maybe with any luck that’s the Avon lady calling.”

With trembling hands, Yolanda set her plate on the table and averted her eyes.  “I guess I’d better get that.”

As Yolanda stepped down the hallway to the front door, she found Gabriel already there with the door open, allowing Tammy inside. 

“I’m at a loss here,” Gabriel said.  “And I think right now I’m the wrong gender.”  He closed the door.

“Is she in the living room?” Tammy asked.

Gabriel nodded.  “Yeah.”  As Tammy started down the hall, Gabriel caught her arm.  “Tread lightly.  She doesn’t know you’re coming.”

“Or that you called me, I take it?”  She peered at him with unblinking gentian eyes.

“That, too.”  He slowly released his grip and withdrew his hand from her arm.

“I’ll do what I can to protect the messenger.”

“That’s really good because I don’t think I’d look so hot with arrows protruding from my butt.”

Grinning, Tammy replied, “I’ll keep that in mind.”  She stepped down the hallway and into the room, leaving Yolanda standing next to him.

He shook his head.  “I wish this day would end.”

Yolanda turned to face him sharply.  “That makes two of you.”

“What do you mean?”

The nurse gestured toward the living room.  “Maddie just said the same thing.”  She looked at Gabriel’s hand and found he still carried both his and Maddie’s plates.  “You want me to take those to the kitchen?”

Gabriel followed Yolanda’s gaze to the plates, and his eyes widened as though just remembering he held them.  “No, it’ll give me something do to besides worry about what’s going on in there.”

“Have it your way.”  Yolanda started toward the kitchen.  Gabriel strode after her and set the plates in the sink.

“How is she holding up?” he asked, wishing his heart would stop jack-hammering.  “I mean, really?  You know her better than I do.”

“She’s keeping it all tucked away, where she believes nobody else can see it.  Maybe she thinks if she buries it deeply enough, even she won’t be able find it.”  Yolanda folded her arms across her chest and ran her hands up and down them, trying to drive away the chills that had seized her.  “But at night, when the house is still and the moonlight streams in through the window just like it did the night she was raped, the fear finds her.”  Yolanda’s voice trembled, and tears filled her eyes, threatening to pool over.  “It invades her dreams, and it’s all I can do to shake her into consciousness to drive it away.  I guess that pretty much sums it up, doesn’t it?”  Raising a trembling hand to her face, she blinked repeatedly.  “God, this never should have happened.  She’s like a daughter to me.”