"Hello, Christine. We're here to take your statement for the official record."
"Hello, Marsha and Ben." She glanced at Charlie and saw the frown crease his face.
He rose and stretched out his hand out as they approached. "I'm Charlie Jergens. You're the investigating police detectives?" He motioned to the badges worn on their waists.
Marsha nodded. She was slim and elegant, barely five foot four. No one seeing her simple navy jacket and slacks would believe her one of the city's toughest policewomen. Christine had seen her bench press her own weight and then some. Her dark red hair pulled back in a knot to showcase a face too tough to be beautiful and too attractive to be anything else. Marsha would be Chief of Police when the current one retired in a few weeks, a hard and well-earned position.
"I'm Detective Marsha Owens. This is my partner, Detective Ben Howard." Her gaze assessed Charlie, sizing him up and not bothering to conceal it.
"Howdy." Ben also extended a hand and smiled. He looked like a faithful hound dog with droopy brown eyes and rounded face, not much taller than Marsha, almost as wide as he was high, and old enough to be their father. The outward impression mocked what lay inside. Ben moved over to Christine, leaned down, lightly kissed her cheek, and then laughed at what must be utter shock on her face.
"Forgive me. It's serious and all, but damn, darling. It's good to see you again." Ben gestured to her bed. "I just hate that it's under these circumstances."
"Good to see you too." Christine tried to smile. "Nothing against either of you, but there's too many memories, too many reasons I didn't want to see you again."
Ben inclined his head, sober now. "The Chief thought you'd be more comfortable with us, seeing the history and all. But if you want, I'll take your friend here and we can wait outside while you and Marsha talk."
Christine glanced around at the three of them before she shrugged and winced. "She'll have to waste time filling you in, and then Charlie will demand to hear too, so might as well tell it one time."
Ben took out a pen and pad and made Christine smile. He'd always shunned technology and preferred the 'tried and true'. "We already talked to the EMTs. So let's hear what happened before they got there."
"Someone decided to use me as a punching bag." Christine stated the obvious.
"No kidding." Marsha sat in the chair beside her. "Do you have any idea who?"
"No. I didn't really see him." Christine twisted the covers in her fingers.
Marsha frowned. "You said 'him'."
"A man attacked me." She swallowed, knowing this would be hard when Charlie muttered something.
Marsha shot him a glare. "What makes you so certain?"
"You mean besides the fact he shoved my face into the side of my house then threw me down?" Christine felt the heat in her face, the gathering of tears she'd thought long cried out. "He touched me, meant to hurt and humiliate me. His hands were scratchy and rough."
Marsha keyed words into her tablet. "He bruised you intimately, but he didn't rape or sexually violate you. Did he say anything?"
Charlie paced to the window, his back to the room. Christine bent her head. "He called me a whore. He knew Charlie stayed with me, and we," She couldn't say the words. She wouldn't make something beautiful between them the ugliness this villain tried to make it.
"Go on," Marsha urged. "Did you recognize his voice?"
Christine kept her gaze on the sheets as she recounted the attack, blanked all other thoughts and concentrated on getting the conversation over. "He didn't say much. I couldn't focus with the pain, but I felt his anger."
"Why?"
"I have no clue." Christine wanted to yell, How the hell should I know? I didn't ask for this. "I thought he would kill me." She glanced at Charlie and saw his shoulders and back go rigid. "But I fainted or blacked out or whatever after he hit me in the face again."
"He cut your clothes and skin. What did he say? Did he speak when he attempted to rape you?" Marsha's face, direct and yet compassionate, belied her brisk professional tone.
"I don't remember words besides the ones I already told you. He wanted to hurt me. Scare me, terrorize me. It was like he knew my worst nightmares and he'd make them come true."
"You think he's acquainted with you? Familiar enough to have knowledge of your fears?" Marsha raised a brow.
"It's a gut feeling. I mean, people don't get attacked in their own yard for no reason. And if he really meant to..." Christine couldn't say the word.
"Rape you, he would have?" Marsha asked. "Maybe, but your friend here scared him off."
Charlie turned around, face blank yet his eyes blazed hot, the emotion in them making Christine shiver. "He must have been watching your house and saw me leave. I hadn't jogged far when I thought I heard you call." Charlie cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. "I ran back and found you. He couldn't have been gone long."