Chapter 6 #2
The cut didn’t need much of a bandage. He sorted through the variety pack, and finally held up the only two in a reasonable size. “PAW Patrol or Frozen?”
She frowned. “Why do you have character bandages?”
He shrugged. “It’s Garrett’s kit. I have no idea.”
“Does he have kids?”
“Not yet.” He paused. “Maybe Claire, his wife, is dropping hints.”
Katherine chuckled. “Frozen. I like Elsa. My nieces make me watch the movie with them at least once a month.”
“Frozen it is.” He carefully placed it on her cheek and stood back, admiring his work. “In my expert opinion, scar odds are very low.”
Her lips moved in a forced smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“Now, let’s see that hand.”
Katherine gave it to him slowly, palm up. He grabbed another kitchen chair and sat close to her. He guided her wrist to his knee and leaned over it.
Her palm had a thin slice across the heel and two smaller nicks near the base of her fingers. He used the washcloth again. She flinched. There was glass grit embedded in one of the nicks.
“You can say ow,” he said. “Or curse. I know it stings.”
“I’m aware of my options.”
He looked up. She was watching him now, not the hall.
Her face was still too pale, but the blank shock in her eyes had receded a little.
Her control was coming back in pieces, and he could see her trying to assemble it around herself like armor.
He wanted her to have it. He also wanted to keep the blanket around her shoulders and the chair under her until her hands stopped shaking.
He picked up the tweezers from the kit. “There’s a tiny piece of glass I need to remove.”
She held still. He removed the sliver, cleaned the cut, and wrapped gauze around her palm, noticing his breath had gone shallow.
“I should have fought harder,” she said. Her voice was barely above a murmur.
He stopped until she looked up at him. “You did well, Katherine.”
“It wasn’t enough.”
Jasper taped the gauze into place and smoothed the edge down with his thumb. “Enough to live.”
She looked at him for a long moment. Outside the laundry room, the house moved around them in low voices, radio static, the creak of floorboards under boots.
A shadow crossed the doorway, and Garrett appeared. “You bringing her to the compound?”
Katherine’s gaze sharpened at once. “Compound?”
Jasper began packing up the kit. “You can’t stay here. Shadow Point is the safest place for you.”
“Oh, right.” The crease returned. “Is that okay?”
“More than okay,” Jasper said.
Garrett nodded. “I’ve already let Vivi know, so a guest room will be ready.”
Katherine blinked, and seemed both relieved and worried. “I need clothes, shoes, my phone, if it still works. Priss’s carrier, her food, my document bag, my laptop…”
Jasper stood. “I’ll get them.”
“I can do it.”
The words came too quickly. Jasper heard the panic under them. He also saw the way her hand tightened on Priss, how her eyes had gone fixed and dark.
“You don’t have to.”
“I know where everything is.”
“You can tell me.”
Her spine stiffened under the blanket. “I said I can do it.”
Garrett looked from one of them to the other. “Let me check with Mallory first. I’m not sure he’ll let you into the bedroom yet.”
Jasper stepped back from the chair. “He’s more likely to let me do it. I have training with crime scenes.”
“You’re not picking out underwear for me, Jasper Perault!”
It was good to see her fired up. “There was nothing about that in the NDA.”
She swatted at him with her good hand. He chuckled.
They left Priss in the laundry room behind the closed door, ignoring her protests.
Detective Mallory met them in the hall outside the bedroom, not looking happy about the request, but not blocking them either.
“You can stand in the doorway and point, Ms. Townsend. Don’t touch anything unless I say.
We’ve got photographs done, but my tech still needs the wall and the window. ”
“I need shoes,” Katherine said. “And clothes. Everything’s in the closet.”
Mallory’s gaze dropped briefly to her bare feet. He exhaled as if her request taxed his patience, and he pointed at Jasper. “Perault can gather what you need. You stay in the doorway and don’t touch it.”
Katherine nodded.
Garrett stood in the hall, talking softly on his phone.
The air was colder here. The smell of gunpowder stronger.
Broken glass glittered across the floor inside the room, the dresser lay on its side, the lamp was shattered near the window, and the bedspread hung half off the mattress.
The black hole in the window looked obscene against the night beyond it.
Katherine froze. At first, Jasper thought she was assessing the scene. Then he saw her face. All the color had drained from it.
Her gaze locked on the cracked bedroom doorframe. Her breath came in once, shallow and silent. Her good hand lifted, fingers curling against the blanket near her throat.
Mallory started to say something, but Jasper raised one hand slightly, and the detective stopped. Garrett put his phone away and moved closer.
“Katherine,” Jasper said.
She didn’t answer. He moved in front of her, blocking her view of the room. “Look at me.”
Her eyes stayed fixed over his shoulder.
“Katherine.” He made his voice lower, quieter, something meant only for her. “He’s gone. I’m here.”
Her gaze shifted to his face, but the fear remained, raw and humiliated beneath the surface. “I can’t.” She said it so softly he almost didn’t hear her.
“That’s okay.”
“It’s ridiculous.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“I need my shoes.”
“I’ll get your shoes.”
Her mouth tightened, and he knew she hated that he had to. Hated needing help. Hated that the room had become a place her body would not enter.
He wanted to tell her there was no shame in any of it, but Katherine didn’t need a speech in front of a detective. She needed the choice taken out of the public eye and put back into her hands.
“Tell me what to grab,” he said.
She closed her eyes for half a second, then opened them. “The navy slacks on a hanger at the back. Jeans in the top drawer of the dresser. A sweater, and at least two blouses—any of them except the cream one. I don’t know why I brought it; it wrinkles badly.”
Garrett made a choking sound that might have been a laugh badly disguised as a cough.
Katherine glanced at him. “It does.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Garrett said, completely solemn.
Jasper felt the edge of his own mouth move despite everything. “Which shoes?”
“Brown ankle boots. Socks are in the second drawer, along with my…” She released a tight sigh. “Underwear and bra. My document bag is in the corner by the nightstand.” She addressed Mallory. “May I have my phone back?”
Mallory handed Jasper gloves, then nodded once and stepped aside. “Did the intruder touch it?”
“Only to kick it out of reach.”
The detective eyed it where it lay on the floor with a yellow marker for a long moment. He gestured for one of the techs to hand it to him.
He looked it over, brushing a gloved thumb over the crack in the face. It was still on, and a photo of a woman who favored Katherine appeared. She was hugging two young girls. Their bright smiles were a sharp contrast to the situation.
“Here,” Mallory said, handing it to her.
Her shoulders dropped with relief and she clutched the phone to her chest. “Thank you.”
Jasper moved carefully, avoiding evidence markers and glass, collecting what Katherine had listed. The hardcover book she had used to hit the intruder sat on the floor near the dresser, its dust jacket torn.
Jasper pointed at it. “This needs to be bagged. She hit him with it.”
Mallory’s brows rose. “With the book?”
“She’s an archivist,” Jasper said. “Improvised weapons are on theme.”
From the hallway, Katherine harrumphed. “It did the trick, didn’t it?”
He gathered the items she wanted into a suitcase, not letting the feel of her clothes or the lace of her underthings distract him. When he stepped back into the hall. Katherine took the document bag first, clutching the strap like it had weight beyond leather and paper.
“Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome.”
Mallory cleared his throat. “I’ll need you both reachable tomorrow, Ms. Townsend. And I’m going to want more information about why someone might target you.”
“You’ll have what I can give you,” she said.
Mallory’s gaze sharpened. “That sounds like a qualified answer.”
“It is.”
Jasper watched the detective decide whether to push. Garrett, who had retrieved Priss’s carrier and food bag, said, “Ms. Townsend has been through a trauma. She needs rest.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Mallory said. “For tonight, get somewhere safe. I can offer one officer to keep an eye on you.”
“SPS is handling it from here,” Jasper said.
They returned to the kitchen, where Katherine changed into socks and boots with slow, careful movements. Garrett took a call near the back door, his voice low, and Jasper retrieved an indignant Priss from the laundry room.
Garrett ended the call. “There’s no sign of him. Local units are checking roads, but if he had a vehicle staged beyond the fence, he’s gone.”
“If he’s smart, he’s getting the hell out of town,” Jasper said.
Katherine stood from the kitchen chair. “The library.”
Jasper had known it was coming. He still hated hearing it. “No,” he said. “We’re not going there.”
Her eyes came up. The shock was still there, but also anger. “The boxes are there,” she said. “I have to protect them.”
He could work with anger. Anger meant she was still in the fight. “And you were just attacked.”
“And he failed, but if he steals those documents, a lot of people could be jeopardized.”
“I will handle it.”
Her chin lifted. “Those documents are my responsibility.”
“They aren’t worth your life.”
“I didn’t say they were. I said they’re my responsibility—and they hold the key to uncovering whatever this is. I want to know why he came after me. The answer is in those documents. We both know it.”