She gathered more apples, scooping them into the hem of her gunnysack dress before walking off.
He waited a few minutes before dropping to the ground and gathering a few apples of his own. Standing in the direct line of his intended target, he wound his arm and let the first apple fly. The fruit smacked her in the back of the head and caused her to topple over. It was no use; he couldn’t hold back the laughter another second.
She looked behind her.
The expression on her face when she saw him was priceless. Apples forgotten, she pushed herself to her feet and ran, dragging her bad leg along.
He continued toward her at a slow pace, throwing the fruit at her, laughing each time he hit his mark. The next time she fell, he thought she might be dead since he couldn’t see any sign of movement. But on closer examination, he found her on her back, eyes wide-open, the gunnysack rising and falling with every breath.
“You never should have run.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Come on,” he said, leaning forward. “Back to the box you go.”
Before he could grab her by the hair, her arm slid out from behind her, and she swung hard, hitting him with such force and speed he never saw it coming.
Grimacing, he staggered backward and fell to the dirt. He’d been struck in the arm with a bale hook made of steel. For a second he simply sat there in disbelief. And then he rolled his neck back and forth, taking it all in, enjoying the fiery pain as his arm pulsed and throbbed. It had been so long since he’d been tortured, he’d forgotten what physical pain felt like. It was intense. Indescribable. Awesome.
As much as he was enjoying himself, he knew he couldn’t sit there forever. Afraid he might bleed out if he removed the hook, he left it in his arm and pushed himself to his feet. Anger overrode all else. “Stupid, stupid, girl,” he said as he followed her along, laughing every time she tripped and fell. It didn’t take him long to catch up to her.
“You’re a monster,” she said, arms flailing as she tried to run faster.
“Sticks and stones,” he said before he kicked her in the back of the knee, sending her flat to the ground. He bent over, used his good arm to grab a fistful of hair, and began to drag her toward home.
“Why are you doing this?” she cried.
“Because I can.”
THIRTY-SIX
Jessie walked Ben Morrison outside to his car just as Colin was crossing the street. She made quick introductions. “Colin Grayson, homicide detective with the Sacramento Police Department, I’d like you to meet Ben Morrison, crime reporter with the Sacramento Tribune.”
“I’ve heard of you,” Colin said, “but I don’t believe we’ve ever met in person.”
Ben nodded as they shook hands.
“So, what’s going on?” Colin asked, turning toward Jessie.
“Ben is doing his own investigation on Sophie’s disappearance.”
“I thought you had decided to move on?”
Her chin came up a notch. “I changed my mind.”
“I should get going,” Ben said. “Good to finally meet you.”
“Yeah, you, too.” Colin looked at Jessie. “You should be resting.”
“I took some ibuprofen. I’ll be fine.” Jessie stepped around Colin so she could thank Ben for coming. After he drove off, she looked at Colin for a long moment.
“Are you okay?”
She hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans and smiled at him. “I am now that you’re here.”
He raised both hands in surrender. “Is this a trick?”
She laughed. “No. It’s just that I haven’t been honest with you.”
He waited for her to go on.
“Those six weeks that I didn’t see you were the longest weeks of my life.”
He rubbed his chin. “Are you trying to tell me that you missed having me around?”
She nodded. “I never should have pushed you away.”
“I should have called you after the divorce.”
She shook her head. “It probably would have been too soon. Some things just need to unfold naturally and in their own good time.”
“Does this mean you’ll think about going on a date with me?”
She smiled. “I might even put on a dress for the occasion.”
“Okay, then. Let me check my calendar and get back to you.”
“Sounds good.” She gestured toward the house. “Let’s go inside. It’s hot out here.”
He followed her up the stairs and into the kitchen, where she poured them both a glass of ice water from the refrigerator. “So you’ve heard of Ben Morrison?”
“Yes, I have,” Colin said. “Morrison was the same reporter who ripped our department to shreds in his write-up after Officer Ed Smith was found guilty of rape.”
“I do remember that,” she said. “It took jurors twenty-four hours to find Smith guilty. I didn’t realize it was Ben who covered the story, but I did agree with the Tribune’s account of what happened at the time. He was questioning other officers who tried to help cover Smith’s tracks. If I remember correctly, another officer went so far as to plant false evidence to help Smith. Everyone needs to be held accountable for their actions, the police included.”
Colin exhaled. “So you’re working with that guy?”
She set her glass on the counter. “I am.”
She stared at him for a few seconds before she said, “Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me what you’re really thinking?”
“You don’t have time to be chasing ghosts right now, and the only thing Ben Morrison wants is for your story to give their subscriber numbers a boost. You need to focus on staying out of prison.” He shook his head. “What’s going to happen to Olivia if you get thrown back in jail?”
“I know you worry about me and Olivia, and I appreciate it. I really do. But Ben Morrison has made me realize I could never simply move on with my life. I need to know what happened to Sophie. I need closure. Olivia needs it, too.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders. “Someone is out to do you harm. Whoever broke into Andriana’s house and took the video is afraid. And if they’re scared enough to break into someone’s house while they’re at home, then how far will they go to shut you up?”
“I talked to David Roche,” Jessie said. “He’s a sleazeball, but so far everything he’s told me about Parker Koontz appears to be true. The good news is that I have two women who are willing to swear in court before the judge that Parker Koontz stalked and terrorized them.”
Colin released his hold on her. “It’ll be their word against his, a local hero of sorts.”
“True, but it’s something. I’m doing all I can. I have other people I plan to talk to. I did nothing wrong. It’s going to be okay. I have to believe that.”
“I wish there was more I could do to help,” Colin said, “but my hands are full right now and—”
“Stop,” she said as she put her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. “You’ve done enough as it is.”
For a moment they simply held each other. Jessie breathed in the scent of him and wondered again why she’d pushed him away.
“Are you two friends again?”
Startled, Jessie stepped away from Colin and saw Olivia standing at the top of the stairs. “We never stopped being friends.”
Olivia smiled. “Oh, I see.”
Colin walked over to Olivia and gave her a pat on the top of the head. “Friends hug. It’s allowed,” he said.
“Enough lollygagging,” Jessie told Olivia. “You have school tomorrow and a report to work on.”
“Is that even a word?” Olivia asked. She looked at Colin. “Lollygagging?”
Colin shrugged. “I have no idea.”
“Did Jessie tell you I’ve decided I want to be a private detective?”
“No. We were too busy hugging to talk about you.”
Jessie gave him a look of exasperation.
He winked, which made her wonder why she bothered with him at all. He was a little pushy, and cocky, and way too handsome.
“Well, what do you think?” Olivia pressed.