Chapter 12
TWELVE
CORRINE
There were three of them. His two friends leaned against the high-top, laughing.
I’d just brought them all their second pitcher of Amstel Lite.
One stood a little apart from the others, eyeing me.
He wore an olive-toned button-down shirt with tan cargo pants.
Blond hair, slicked back. He was handsome. But I knew that look.
“Corrine,” Sylvie shouted. “Your four-top is still waiting for drinks!”
She didn’t think I knew that? All four drinks sat on a bar tray, two dry martinis, a bottle of Heineken, and a Sea Breeze for the lone woman at the table. But I had to walk past that high-top, get within reach of the man in the cargo pants. He looked like he wanted to eat me.
“Corrine!” Sylvie brushed up against me. “We’re slammed. We’ve got a twenty-minute wait for tables. Everything has to be perfect tonight.”
“I know,” I said. I could feel sweat between my shoulder blades. PJ had the air conditioner blasting. I took a breath and went to the bar to grab the drinks. I hustled past the high-top. I could feel the man’s breath on my neck.
I served my drinks and took a kitchen order from my four-top. Maybe I was just on edge. The next hour became a blur as Sylvie seated me four more tables.
Things were good. Busy. My last tables had all tipped in cash and generously. Behind the bar, my brother wore a genuine smile. I hadn’t seen one of those from him in a very long time.
Soon, I had to make a decision about Dad. He had spent most of his savings paying off my mother’s credit card debt. There was just no money to be had.
I cleared another high-top to make way for another group.
“Order up!” Blake shouted from the kitchen. I liked him. Big, burly, ginger, he didn’t like too many of the servers.
“We’d like another bread basket if that’s all right.” Sea Breeze grabbed my wrist as I walked past her table.
“Of course,” I said, plastering on a smile. She was complaining about me behind my back. I could sense it.
I had about thirty seconds before Blake had my next order up. Just enough time to run in and refill Sea Breeze’s bread basket.
I weaved past the line forming in front of the women’s restroom, headed for the kitchen.
“Corrine?”
A male voice came out of nowhere. No one else was supposed to be back here but employees. I’d never seen him move from the high-top.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” he said, smiling. He reached for me, putting a light hand on my arm.
“You aren’t supposed to be back here,” I said, red flags going up everywhere.
“You didn’t pay me any attention. I figured I had to take at least one shot before we cashed out.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m slammed. I’ll bring your check to your table in just a minute.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
He took a step toward me. It felt like a thousand tiny knives stabbed through my lungs. My hands were cold and clammy. I shivered as he made himself bigger somehow, widening his shoulders and putting himself between me and the kitchen door.
“Come on,” he said. “I thought I saw you looking at me back there.”
“I wasn’t. And you’re in my way.”
I felt hands all over my body. Pinned down. “I’ll make you disappear.” The words filled my brain, drowning out everything else.
The room spun. The smell of his musky cologne suffocated me.
“Stop!” I yelled. I pushed back as hard as I could.
“Corrine!”
I had my back against the wall. Mr. Cargo Pants stood at the entrance to the men’s room, maybe ten feet away from me. PJ muscled his way past him, his eyes filled with rage.
“Do we have a problem, man?” PJ shouted.
“What?” the man said. “I just came back here to take a leak. She started getting all crazy.”
PJ turned to me. He put his hands lightly on my shoulders. “Are you okay?”
“He’s lying,” I said. Wasn’t he? He touched me. I know he touched me.
“Why don’t you and your friends cash out and get the hell out of here?” PJ said, his voice booming.
The man’s jaw dropped. He put his hands up, but backed away. “She’s nuts,” he said. “I think she’s drunk.”
He turned and went back out to the bar. I couldn’t take my back off the wall. I couldn’t put one foot in front of the other.
“Corrine,” PJ said gently. “What happened?”
I shook my head. “He just got too close. He was hitting on me.” PJ looked back down the hall.
“Corrine, that’s Jake Webber. He came in with Mitch Bernath. They’re both money guys. They’re potential investors.”
“He’s a creep,” I said.
“But you’re okay?”
Sylvie appeared. “What did you say to him?” she asked, her tone full of her usual judgment. “Webber and his companions just stormed out of here without paying their bill.”
“Nothing,” PJ said. “Just go back out there. Handle the hostess stand.”
Sylvie looked suspicious. She glared at me, but did as PJ asked.
“You don’t look well,” my brother said to me.
“Do you think I’m making it up?”
“No,” he said. “But I think you’ve been looking pretty ragged the last few days. Just go upstairs and get some rest. We can handle things down here. I’ll store your tips for you. Come find me in the morning and I’ll cash you out.”
“PJ…”
“Corrine, go. Get some rest.”
I hated that look in his eyes. Worry. Disappointment. He squeezed my shoulder and drew me in for a hug I didn’t want.
“We’ll talk in the morning, Sissy. I love you.” He kissed my cheek and left me there. I knew it was his way of trying to be supportive. But it made me feel eight years old again. Like I couldn’t handle anything. Like he thought he’d have to take care of me my entire life.
I should have ignored him. I should have gone right back out there and grabbed the next table. But my legs felt wobbly when I pushed myself off the wall.
“I’ll make you disappear.” His words reverberated through me, making my throat run dry. So, I untied my apron and left it on a hook in the break room. Then I took the backstairs up to my apartment.
It was pitch dark. I flicked the light switch and kicked off my sneakers. Already, my phone started blowing up with texts from Sylvie. I left her on read and plugged my phone into its charger by the coffee pot.
Would I ever feel normal again? Would I ever be able to be physically close to another man without feeling that suffocating panic? Had I misinterpreted or imagined Jake Webber’s behavior?
Maybe Sylvie was right. Maybe contacting the police again had been a big mistake. She warned me it would stir things up. I’d worked so hard to survive.
It was the right thing though. I had a chance to take back control. Make sure everyone knew the truth. Wasn’t I owed that?
I called out to my smart speakers as I plopped down on the couch. “Play evening meditation number three.”
I closed my eyes and listened to the countdown, focusing on my breathing. A moment later, the guided meditation started. I let the world fall away as I flexed and then relaxed each muscle of my body, starting with my toes.
My phone’s ring jarred me back to consciousness. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then I felt the soft corduroy pillow beneath my cheek. I’d fallen asleep on the couch. With the shades drawn, I had no idea what time it was.
I blinked to clear my head and then padded over to the phone. It was eight a.m. I had slept for over twelve hours. I also saw twelve unread messages, mostly from Sylvie.
“Hello?”
“Ms. Egan?” I hadn’t even looked at the caller ID, but I recognized his gruff voice.
“Speaking.”
“I hope I didn’t wake you. This is Detective Roy Dennison, from Benton County.”
“Yes. I know. I’m so sorry. I know I promised to come down and look at photographs…”
Sylvie’s warnings about going to the police came back into my head. I should have just dropped the whole thing. Things never worked out for me. No one ever believed me. Even tonight. My own brother. His support was half-hearted. Filled with doubt.
I bet they believed Mina Sobel. She looked so smart. So important. So confident. People respected her. They would listen to what she had to say. What would it be like to have someone like her on your side? She mattered. They ignored me. Dismissed me. Looked down on me.
“Corrine,” Dennison’s tone became stern.
“There’s no soft way to tell you this, so forgive me if it’s upsetting.
We have a suspect in one of the cases we’ve been working on.
I can’t give you specifics on anything that’s not directly related to your case.
Do you think you could meet me in Ann Arbor? ”
“Ann Arbor?” That was nowhere near me or Lasalle Harbor.
“I need you to take a look at a lineup.”
My pulse jackhammered. A lineup? With real people. Not just photos.
“When?”
“Tomorrow. I can meet you there.”
“In person? I thought you said I just had to look at pictures.”
“Things have changed. Will it be a problem?”
I swallowed hard. I’d have to call off work. Sylvie would throw a fit. I’d tell her I was sick.
“Do you… you think you’ve caught the guy?” No. Not yet. I wasn’t ready. It was too soon.
“Right now, I’m just asking you to take a look at the lineup.”
“This lineup. They won’t see me? The people you bring in won’t know I’m there?”
“No,” he said. “It’s perfectly safe. I promise. I’ll be there. If you’d like to bring someone with you, that’s totally okay.”
“No,” I said quickly. I didn’t want Sylvie or PJ involved. I’d had enough of their looks of pity. “But… will Ms. Sobel be there?”