Her nerves kicked up. Beside her, Josh stiffened.
“I’m her best friend, Victoria Bradford. This is Joshua Cain. We just flew in from Texas.”
The detective’s dark eyes swung to Josh. “You’re also a friend of Ms. Shane’s?”
“Never met her. I’m here for Ms. Bradford.”
The detective’s expression said he wasn’t happy about the deception. He pointed toward the door. “Both of you. We need to talk. There’s a room down the hall where we can speak privately.”
They made their way out of the waiting room and along the corridor to a private room with a bleached wood table and four matching chairs. There were desert scenes on the walls. The detective closed the door and joined them at the table.
“How did you hear about Ms. Shane?” he asked, taking the seat across from her.
“Lisa’s friend, Shelly Burman, has been keeping me informed,” Tory said.
Larson nodded, apparently fitting the pieces together. Taking a notepad out of his pocket, he flipped it open and pulled out a pen. “You’re the woman who first figured out Lisa was missing. That correct?”
“That’s right. I called Lisa Tuesday morning, but she didn’t pick up so I called her office. They said she hadn’t phoned in that day and hadn’t shown up the day before, either. That isn’t like her. I called Shelly and asked her to stop by Lisa’s house. Lisa’s car and purse were there but Lisa wasn’t. Shelly and I both thought it was time to call the police.”
“How much do you know about what happened?”
“Not much,” Tory said. “Shelly said the police believe Lisa was abducted from her home. I know she was shot.”
The detective released a slow breath. “It appears Ms. Shane was held prisoner for several days before she escaped. There’s no proof she was raped since there’s no DNA evidence. But she was badly beaten and from what the doctors are reporting of her injuries, my guess is the guy tied her up and sexually assaulted her. Probably wore a condom. I need to know if you have any idea who might be responsible for the attack.”
Her mind started screaming. Lisa had been abducted, beaten, and probably raped. All she could think was Damon, Damon, Damon. But there was no evidence, no proof it had anything to do with him.
“I don’t . . . I’m not sure.”
“You’re her best friend. You must have talked to her often. Did she mention anyone? A guy at work she was having trouble with? Someone following her? A guy she met in a bar? Anyone like that?”
Damon, Damon, Damon.
“Tell him, Tory,” Josh softly urged.
She swallowed. “There is someone . . . a person who might do something that terrible. But I don’t have any proof.”
Larson clicked the top of his pen. “What’s his name?”
“Damon Bridger. He’s . . . he’s my ex-fiancé.”
The detective stopped writing. “Your ex was involved with Lisa Shane?”
“No, but . . .” She took a fortifying breath. “Damon knows she’s my closest friend. He’s been stalking me for months. If you check your police records, you’ll see he was arrested for assaulting me last year.”
“He beat her, put her in the hospital,” Josh said darkly. “The bastard ought to be in prison.”
The detective eyed him a moment, then turned back to Tory. “Tell me about Bridger.”
“After the assault, I moved away from Phoenix, but Damon followed me. I moved again, and he showed up there. I’m living in Texas now. So far he hasn’t been able to find me.”
“What’s Bridger’s connection to Lisa Shane?”
“Lisa and I stay in touch. Damon knows that. Maybe he kidnapped her to find out where I am.” Her eyes welled with tears. “But Lisa couldn’t have told him because she doesn’t know.”
Larson’s dark eyebrows drew together. “You think this guy Bridger would go that far?”
She wiped away a tear. “I don’t know. I think there’s a chance he would.”
“All right, we’ll check it out. Okay if I call you Victoria?”
“Tory,” she said.
“One thing I can tell you, Tory. If Damon Bridger did this, he’ll pay for what he’s done.”
She only nodded. Her throat felt too tight to speak.
“Do the police have any leads?” Josh asked.
“The sheriff’s office has deputies scouring the location where Ms. Shane was picked up. There are dozens of cabins in the area and miles of dirt roads. Most of the residences are owned by seasonal users so they’re empty much of the time. So far the deputies haven’t been able to locate the place she was being held prisoner.”
“Are they sure that’s where he was holding her?” Josh asked.
“Not for certain. She was naked when she was shot. One theory is she was being transported from one location to another, possibly in the trunk, somehow managed to get out of the vehicle and get away.”
Josh’s big hand reached for Tory’s beneath the table. His warmth and strength seeped into her and she was finally able to breathe.
Detective Larson rose from his chair. “That’s all for now. I need contact information for both of you. Where are you staying?”
“Marriott Courtyard,” Josh answered. “It’s just down the street.” It was good he had found a place because Tory hadn’t been able to think that far ahead.
Larson shoved the notepad across the table and Josh wrote down his contact numbers. “Thanks to Bridger, Tory doesn’t have a smartphone.”
“I’m using a disposable,” she said, and rattled off the number.
“All right, thanks.” The detective picked up his notepad, shoved it and his pen back into his pocket. He was halfway to the door when it swung open and the doctor, a small, silver-haired man with wire-rimmed glasses, walked into the room.
“Dr. Barnard?” Larson asked.
“That’s right.”
“I’m Detective Jeremy Larson. I’ll need to talk to your patient as soon as possible.”
“I understand, Detective, but it’s going to be a while. And there’s a chance it may not do you any good.” He turned his attention to Tory, who had risen from her chair. “You’re her sister?”
Tory hesitated.
“Close enough,” the detective said.
“Aside from the gunshot wound to her lower back and the injuries resulting from the assault, Ms. Shane suffered a severe cranial trauma when she fell and hit her head. A blow that hard can cause retrograde amnesia. There’s a chance of memory loss. In this case it could be extremely pronounced. At the moment we’re more concerned with the possibility of brain swelling.”
A sound slipped from Tory’s throat.
“We’re hoping we won’t have to operate, but there’s always a chance. For now, that’s all I can tell you.”
“How long before you know more?” Josh asked.
“It’s a waiting game now. I’ll let you know where we are as time goes along.”
“Thank you,” Tory said, a lump constricting her throat.
“You need to stay strong,” the doctor said. “Lisa is going to need you.”
Tory bit her lip. She shook the hand the doctor extended; then he turned and walked out of the waiting room.
“I appreciate your cooperation,” Detective Larson said to her and Josh. “I’ll be in touch.” The tall, lanky policeman followed the doctor out the door.
Despair sat like a heavy weight on her chest. Tory turned to Josh, who pulled her into his arms and held her as she wept for her friend.
Chapter Sixteen
Sitting behind the wide mahogany desk in his office on the top floor of the Bridger building, Damon pressed the phone against his ear.
“You’re a sweetheart, Melanie. I really appreciate your keeping me updated on her condition—Lisa being a friend and all. I’m sorry to hear she isn’t doing better.”
Yes! He wanted to shoot his fist into the air. The hands of fate had granted him a reprieve.
“I’m happy to help,” Melanie said.
“Why don’t you let me thank you properly? How about dinner at that new French restaurant they just opened out on Camelback Road?”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. What night, Damon?”
“Saturday work for you?”
“I’d love that. I heard it was expensive but really, really worth it.”