She must have looked more frightened than she felt, because a tall trooper rushed toward her. “Ma’am, are you okay?”
“Yes.” She paused, knowing that wasn’t exactly correct. “Well… no, I’m not.” She stole a glance over her shoulder, half expecting Zack or Jared to be stalking toward her.
“Do you need to sit down? Let me take you over to the interview room and get an officer to talk to you.” He grasped her elbow.
“Well, I don’t know—”
“No. Come with me. You’ll feel better in here, I promise you.” He pointed the way, following her closely.
It was small, dark room with a couple of Queen Anne chairs, a wooden end table nestled between them. An incandescent lamp gave the room a pleasant, friendly glow rather than the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting.
“I’d ask you what you’re here for, but that’s not really my job. I’m assuming you need to speak to a trooper, correct?” He motioned for her to sit. She chose the one furthest from the door.
“Yes. I need help… I think.”
“I’m Officer Wyatt. What’s your name? I’m assigned to the front desk right now, so I’m going to have to hand you off to one of my partners to interview you.”
She wondered whether she should even tell him her name. What if he was like one of those corrupt troopers she’d seen on TV?
“Ma’am, your name?”
“Madison. Madison Weaver.”
Officer Wyatt turned to leave, looking over his shoulder at her. “You’re safe here, Madison. I promise you. Just relax, and someone will be here soon.”
She pulled at the sleeves of her jacket, trying to cover her wrists. Even inside the warm building she felt cold. It had to be nerves. She hoped someone would help her at least find a place to sleep that night, a problem foremost among many she needed help with.
Sunni stared at the blank, white walls. She wasn’t even quite twenty years old, and yet she felt like she’d spent the better part of her life struggle with just surviving. As a child of a single mother, she’d learned to grow up faster than most of her peers.
A latch-key kid.
That’s what they had called children like her. It was a reference to the fact that they carried a key to open the door on their own. Such a term didn’t fully explain the inherent anxiety and lack of security she’d felt though. As if opening a door was the biggest issue she’d had to contend with. Carrying burdens a child shouldn’t had left scars. Worrying about electric bills and whether her new pink winter coat would mean her and her siblings wouldn’t have lunch that week were the sorts of concerns that really weighed on a child like her.
So, when Sunni graduated and found a way to leave her small town, she did exactly that. And she didn’t look back or regret it either. She’d done well for herself. She worked several cashier jobs — sometimes two or three at a time — to pay for an apartment and her car. Sunni wanted to attend college. She truly hoped the day would come that she would save enough money, qualifying for student loans to get a degree and a nice office job. She didn’t want to cure cancer or change the world. She just wanted to have a lifestyle that would chase away the nightmares that followed — and chased — her more days than she cared to think about.
She knew it would take time and tenacity. She had both at that stage of her life. She’d not find herself in the same situation as her mother. She took care of her body, didn’t date idiots, and made sure to stay on the pill. There would be no unwanted pregnancies in her future. She would choose when and how she became pregnant. She’d be in charge of her body — and her future.
But today she needed to get this difficult situation put behind her and be assured that she would be safe in her apartment — or wherever they decided to place her. She knew that opening her mouth would possibly put her at risk, but she also knew that living a life with integrity was important to her. She wanted to do the right thing — in all situations
“
Sunni?
Sunni Weaver, is that you?”
Nobody had called her Sunni since she was a child. She’d moved away from Rawlins, her sleepy Wyoming hometown, to live in Laramie — and she’d never looked back.
No reason to.
But if someone was calling her Sunni then it meant that they had once lived in Rawlins too. Madison turned to find a gorgeous man looking at her as he placed his laptop on the table. He had a touch of gray at the temples and sprinkled throughout his sandy brown hair. His eyes were the color of a Persian cat’s — emerald green. He smiled at her, crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes letting her know that he not only was friendly, but someone who liked to laugh often. His large hard grasped hers, enveloping it completely. It was firm and hard, yet the skin was soft, letting her know that he spent many hours a day at a desk. He yanked her up out of the chair, hugging her tightly.
“My God, it’s been years since I’ve seen you!” He held her at arm’s length, staring intently. “How the hell have you been?”
Mr. Johnson? No, can’t be.
He shook his head, laughing. “You don’t remember who I am, do you?”
“I’m sorry. You seem familiar, and I think I know your voice. Since you called me Sunni, you must know me from my childhood.” Her cheeks flushed and she couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. Mesmerizing eyes. She found him very attractive. Even though he seemed a bit older than her nineteen years, her heart raced when he winked at her.
“Yes, that’s exactly how I know you. You were friends with Brittney. Brittney Johnson? I’m her dad, Cade—” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for a flicker of recognition.
“Oh, my God! How are you, Mr. Johnson?” She flung her arms around his waist, hugging him closely. “I thought it was you, and then talked myself out it.”
He brushed the hair off her shoulder, kissing her temple. “Hi, Sunni. I thought you’d remember me after a bit. Please call me Cade.”
She quickly pulled away, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. She’d loved Mr. Johnson —Cade. Sunni lacked a father in her house, not having the paternal caring and cuddling that her best friend had. Many days, she’d envied her best friend Brittney for that, watching him swing her into the air, kissing her neck or tickling her belly as he walked by. After a while, Mr. Johnson included her in the cuddling and playing. He’d play with them in the park, taking them for ice cream, and then reading with both girls at bedtime.
He stooped over her, looking her directly in the eye. “Hey… you okay? You seem far away.”
Her eyes teared up. She wasn’t okay, her life was out of control, and now she was in danger on top of it all. But with Cade with her once more, she felt safe… and little again. He towered over her, her head only coming up to the middle of his chest, even as a grown woman. When she was a child, he’d seemed larger than a bear when she would visit. She remembered him having to stoop slightly to enter the house without knocking his large trooper hat right off his head.
“So, I hear you need to talk to an officer?” His deep voice rumbled through her core, bringing her comfort, and yet, it exuded authority, demanding obedience. At a minimum, it meant you needed to stop and listen. “Am I going to have to put you in handcuffs? I hope not.” He furrowed his brows in mock sternness.
“I… I don’t think so, Sir.” Her heart raced, and she couldn’t keep eye contact. She didn’t think she’d done anything wrong. She hoped not, anyway.
He grasped her elbow, bringing her to the chairs. “Well, Sunni, let’s hear it before we worry about anything else.”
“Nobody calls me Sunni anymore. I’m known as Madison here.”
“You’ll always be Sunni to me. I’ll try to remember, but I spent way too many years calling you that. Hope you understand.” He opened the laptop. “Let’s get your story. What happened?”
Chapter 2
C
ade positioned his laptop on the table so he would be able to type comfortably and yet see her facial expressions as she related the events. She wore dark brown corduroy pants that hugged her shapely, trim legs and plump, curvy ass. Her brown and cream sweater was doing a more than adequate job accentuating the shape of her ample breasts. Sunni had definitely grown up since he’d last seen her at the age of twelve or thirteen. She had become a beautiful woman, her long, blonde hair hanging straight and glossy to her waist, a matching brown headband keeping the golden locks out of her face.
“Okay, Madison. Start with what you’re comfortable relating to me. I’ll ask questions if I need more, or if I need clarification.”
She took a deep breath, her voice small and timid. “I was working at my job. I have a silly cashier job at the drugstore up the road — Buchanan’s. I went to the back room because I needed a case of cigarettes for the front counter. Zack was back there. He’s the guy in the back who does the receiving from the delivery trucks and he helps to stocks shelves. I don’t like him. He just seems skeevy somehow.”
“What’s his last name?”
“Fent. Zack Fent.”
Cade typed his name into the police report. “Continue.”
“Well, when I went to the back room, he was talking to a strange guy and they said something about giving this girl the date rape drug and… both of them raping her over the weekend. Zack was looking to get more of the drug from this guy.”
Cade typed quickly on his laptop, trying to keep up. He paused, leaning back in his chair, twirling his pen in his mouth. “Okay, Sunni. Did you get a good look at the guy he had been talking to? At all?”
“Well, a little. I mean, it’s always dark back there, but the receiving door had been open and Zack was receiving a delivery from him for the store.”
“Great.” Cade leaned forward, typing on the laptop. Sunni had definitely remembered some important details. “Did you happen to see the name on the truck?”
“It was a gray truck with green writing. I think it said Thompson Trucking. He was a tall guy with long brown hair, kinda curly with a beard and moustache.” She was looking to her right at a spot on the floor, apparently visualizing the individual. “He had glasses. I think they are dark rimmed — no, wait — they were kinda silver-wired glasses. Not sunglasses, but the reading kind.”
“That should be enough of a description for me to contact the company and see who drove the truck that made a delivery to Buchanan’s Drugstore today. Did they see you come in?”
At that question, her eyes widened, and she wrung her hands. She looked like the little frightened, lonely girl that used to visit as a child. “Sweetie. You’re safe here. I promise.” He clasped her cold, small hands in one of his, rubbing them to warm them up. “Did they see you listening?”
“Yes, Sir.”
With that bit of news, he knew the situation just got more dangerous. He’d need to keep her safe and out of the way for a few weeks, or at least until he could throw the two scumbags in jail. “Madison, this is important. What did they say when they knew you’d overheard them?”
Her long, slender neck visibly worked as she swallowed. “Well, Zack turned and said, ‘Bitch what the fuck are you doing back here?’ and then his friend whispered something to him. I couldn’t make out all of it, but I did hear ‘get rid of her.’ At that point, Zack shouted ‘Shut the fuck up, Jared!’”
She brightened for a moment. “That’s it!
Jared
is the other guy’s name.”
“Good girl. I’m marking it down. Is that when you ran to the trooper station? Or did you finish your shift?”
“I ran. I knew Jared meant to hurt me. I could see it on his face. I didn’t want to wait until we left work at the same time.” Those blue eyes filled with tears and her hands began to tremble. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. How will I go back to my apartment?”
“Normally, we’d have a trooper keeping track of you, assuring your safety, but I’ve known you too long to rely on that.” Cade took a deep breath. He just wanted to keep her out of the fray for as long as possible. He’d been following these men for suspected rape for a while now. The State Patrol were closing in, and with this information, an arrest would be happening within the next week.
Until then, he needed her to be safe.
But her reaction to what he was about to propose was his next concern. He didn’t want to scare her even more than she already was, but at the same time he needed her safe and worry free. As far as he was concerned, that meant she needed to be under
his
care — and no one else’s.
Cade had been a trooper since his twenties and now that he was only a few months from forty, he didn’t see a need to sugarcoat anything he said. He’d treat her as his own daughter; give her the facts, and present the situation — and solution — in such a way that it would make it difficult for her to say no. He liked that tactic best. It fit him perfectly, as a man who liked to be in control.
“Okay, sweet pea, this is how this is going to work.” He stood up from his chair, walking toward her. She stiffened, looking nervous. His large frame and height had that effect, especially when in uniform. People reacted consistently to the uniform and authority, but it still bothered him on some level. He pulled the wooden chair in front of her, sitting knee-to-knee with her. Once again, he pulled her hands into his, rubbing them between his large palms.
“You’re shaking. It’s okay. Listen to me. I’ll take care of this… and you.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve been watching Zack and Jared for a while; we needed just a bit more information to arrest them. This will be the information that gives us the ability to take them off the streets and put them in jail. But, until we do that, you need to be safe.”