Hold Still (3 page)

FOUR

October 4th

Anita woke to a rustling
near her left ear. Her lips were dry and crusted together. Nausea spiraled up from her stomach. She opened her eyes, disoriented. Numbness had spread to her arms and legs, making her body feel cold and heavy. Blinking in the semidarkness, she wondered how long she had been here. The faded glow of a streetlight crept through a hole in the wall, barely cutting through the darkness. It had been dusk when Larry and Angel brought her here, and they had kept her for what felt like hours. How long had she been trapped here? It didn’t matter. She was still alive. That was what mattered.

Squeezing her eyes closed again, she conjured images of her children’s faces, thinking of all the silent promises she had made to them earlier while the men went at her. She had to get back to her babies. She had already failed them so many times in their short lives. If she lived through this, she would be better. A better mother, a better daughter. She’d make do with her receptionist job. She’d get two jobs. But she’d never put herself at the mercy of men like Larry and Angel ever again.

An involuntary shiver ran the length of her body at the thought of the other man, their friend. He had been waiting for them when they arrived. Larry and Angel called him Face although he wore a ski mask. She knew from his eyes that she was in deep, deep trouble.

Anita drew in a deep breath and almost choked. She’d forgotten about the smell—it was like sewage. Hot trash, a bathroom with a toilet that didn’t flush, and cat piss. She’d spent some time cataloging the smells to keep herself from going into a full-blown panic attack. She was in some kind of house; she knew that much. Judging by the holes in the walls and floors and the smashed-out windows, it was condemned. Trash was strewn all over the floor. The three men had had to clear a space for her. There was no electricity. Face had used a crank-up camping light to illuminate the room.

Anita heard the rustling again and opened her eyes once more. She turned her head to the left and looked right into the beady eye of a giant rat. A hoarse scream tore from her throat. Her body tried to jerk away from it, and she felt the skin of her hands tear. Startled, the rat scurried off. Anita kept screaming. She couldn’t stop. The movement woke the pain in her hands and feet, and it seared through her. She felt a warmth in her crotch and realized that she had wet herself. Her screams continued until she heard feet navigating through the trash.

Larry’s face floated above her. “Jesus,” he said. “Keep it down. Quiet now.”

Anita’s screams weakened to grunts. She craned her neck to look behind Larry, searching for Face—he was the worst. He had driven the nails in. Larry put a hand on her forehead and pushed her hair back, just once, gently. “Shh. Quiet now. He ain’t here. He’s gone.”

She fell silent, her head dropping back onto the floor. Relief coursed through her.

Until she saw the pliers in Larry’s hand.

Her screams returned with renewed vigor. She squirmed as much as she could without doing any more damage.

“Nononononono,” she said.

Larry sighed and shook his head. He got down on his hands and knees, pliers in hand.

“Hold still,” he said.

FIVE

October 4th

“Mommy, why are we at
the hospital?”

“Because Mommy hurt her wrist, sweetheart.”

At Einstein’s bustling ER, they waited almost an hour, even with Kevin pressuring the staff. Jocelyn held her daughter on her lap as long as Olivia would let her. She kissed her head, her cheeks, her eyes, and her perfect little hands until Olivia wriggled off her lap. “Mommy, stop,” she said.

Once they were ushered into a curtained partition, Jocelyn lay on the gurney. Kevin sat in a chair beside her and amused Olivia by blowing up a latex glove and holding it against the top of his head. He pretended to be a chicken, making “ba-gawk” sounds and flapping his free arm. He tried to peck Olivia with his nose, provoking endless giggles. Even Jocelyn had to laugh at Kevin’s antics, in spite of her swollen, throbbing wrist and the suffocating anxiety that had set in since they’d arrived at the hospital. Her mind kept flashing to the moment she saw her Explorer pull away with Olivia in the backseat—a surreal moment that made her heart
tha-thump
unevenly just thinking about it.

Inez pulled the curtain aside. Her face was haggard. Wisps of black hair sprung from her ponytail. Olivia ran over and hugged her leg. Inez smoothed Olivia’s hair back and bent to kiss her head. She looked at Kevin. “We got the guy in custody. He’s waiting to be seen.”

“Anything on him?” Kevin asked.

“His name is Henry Richards. He’s twenty years old. Looks like a junkie. Been picked up for prostitution before.”

“How is he?” Jocelyn asked.

Inez shrugged. “You definitely broke his nose, couple of his ribs. Maybe his jaw.”

Jocelyn closed her eyes momentarily. “Oh my God,” she moaned.

“He’ll be fine,” Inez said. “He had it coming. Oh, and we found blankie on Chew Avenue. It’s in my car.”

“Thank you.”

Inez put her hands on her hips. “Kevin, would you take Olivia down the hall and get her a snack from the vending machines?”

Olivia jumped up and down. “A snack! Mommy, can I have Fritos?”

Normally, Jocelyn would try to steer her toward a healthier snack, but she didn’t have the energy. “Sure, baby,” she said, so grateful in that moment that Olivia was unharmed that she would have given her anything.

Kevin took Olivia’s hand.

“Don’t let her out of your sight,” Jocelyn blurted.

Kevin rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna lose her, Rush.”

He scooped Olivia up into his arms and disappeared.

Inez made sure the curtain was completely closed and approached the bed. “You got ten minutes,” she said. “Get it out now.”

It didn’t take long for the tears to come. With Olivia gone, it wasn’t necessary to act calm. Jocelyn’s shoulders quaked. A sob rose in her throat. Inez climbed onto the gurney with her and pulled Jocelyn into a hug, her nightstick digging into Jocelyn’s thigh. Jocelyn held on to her and let the tears overtake her.

“Oh my God, Inez. My baby. He took her. I wasn’t even out of the car a few seconds. I can’t believe I did that. He took her, and it was my fault.”

“Jocelyn.”

“No, Inez. What kind of mother leaves her three-year-old alone in a running car? I just—I can’t believe I did that.”

Inez squeezed her. “Olivia is okay.”

Jocelyn shuddered. “But I almost got her killed today—or worse.”

“But you went after her and got her back. She’s fine.”

Jocelyn wiped tears from her eyes and shook her head. “I fucked up. There’s no way around that.”

They were silent for a moment. Then Inez said, “I locked Raquel in the car over the summer by accident. I locked the keys in the car. It was that rental, remember?”

“The one you had after Ana totaled your Nissan?”

Ana was Inez’s eighteen-year-old daughter. “Yeah,” Inez said. “I only had one set of keys. I put Raquel in the car seat. I had put the keys down on the seat while I strapped her in, so the car wasn’t even running. It was hot. She was stuck in the seat.”

Jocelyn swallowed and pulled back to look into her friend’s face. “What did you do?”

Inez smiled wryly. “I broke the window. Cost me a fortune too.”

Jocelyn laughed. “I thought you said vandals did that.”

Now Inez laughed. “You think I’m gonna go around telling people I locked my baby in a hot-ass car? Please. That’s between me and the rental company. My point is we all screw up.”

A commotion outside the curtain drew their attention. Inez
extricated herself and peeked out. “It’s the captain and—oh Christ—Phil’s with him.”

Jocelyn’s throat constricted. The last thing she needed was to deal with Phil Delisi.

“Jesus Christ,” Jocelyn said. “There are fifty ADAs in majors. He had to call Phil?”

Inez shrugged. “Who better than your ex-lover to help brush this under the carpet?”

Jocelyn shook her head. She stood up, wiped her eyes, smoothed her hair from her face, and straightened her clothes—the simple motions sent a white-hot streak of pain through her wrist. For the first time, she noticed the blood on the sleeves of her shirt. She shuddered.

“They’re talking to Kevin,” Inez reported.

“How do I look?” Jocelyn asked.

Inez didn’t even look at her. “Like shit. What do you care? You guys broke up like a year ago, right?”

“Eighteen months.”

Inez humphed as the curtain pulled apart. Phil stepped inside. Jocelyn hadn’t seen him in months, but the sight of him still made her breath catch in her throat. He was, of course, impeccably dressed in a crisp charcoal suit with a yellow-and-black patterned tie. His thick brown hair was brushed away from his face. Without even trying, he gave off a vibe of importance and purpose. He was beautiful—strong and male. But he always stung her.

She glanced at Inez, but she was busy peeking around the curtain. Jocelyn braced herself for a steely reception. The last few times they’d spoken hadn’t exactly been cordial.

“Jocelyn,” Phil said as he neared, his brow knit with concern.

There was an awkward moment where he leaned in to kiss her cheek and she misread it, extending her uninjured hand instead. They settled on a stiff half hug. Phil cleared his throat as Jocelyn stepped back, putting some distance between them.

As much as she’d always been attracted to him, when he touched her she felt cold and closed off. Intimacy had been a big issue for them. Phil’s overriding need to control everything about her life had chafed too.

He looked her up and down, assessing, and she was relieved to be out of the relationship. That look was a precursor to criticism. “Are you going to wear those shoes with that?” or “Aren’t you going to iron your shirt?”

Now Phil simply asked, “You okay?”

She cradled her wrist and nodded. Inez moved aside to admit Captain Basil Ahearn, who was in charge of both Northwest Detective Division and the four districts it encompassed. Although Ahearn too wore a suit, he was considerably older and more rumpled than Phil was. Standing side by side, the contrast was almost comical. Phil was white, and he looked slick and neatly pressed. Ahearn was black, and, at the moment, he was a study in wayward wrinkles and smelled like cigarettes. Phil smelled as if he had just stepped out of the shower, a combination of soap and expensive cologne.

Captain Ahearn stepped toward Jocelyn and issued a heavy sigh. “Rush,” he said. “I talked to Detective Sullivan and Officer Graham. I’ve consulted with Phil. I want you to take the next couple of days off. There will be an investigation, but since you were off duty and unarmed, there’s no need for you to go on administrative leave. There are a couple of conditions, though. You’ll have to enroll in anger management classes and go to therapy for eight weeks.”

Jocelyn’s cheeks burned. “Are you fucking kidding me?” she blurted. “Anger management? That piece of shit kidnapped my child!”

Phil exchanged a look with Ahearn. “He didn’t know she was in the car,” Phil said calmly. “You broke his jaw, his nose, and a few of his ribs. You used excessive force, given the situation. You’ll be lucky if he doesn’t try bringing a personal injury claim against you.”

Jocelyn waggled a finger at Ahearn. “I was a private citizen whose child was kidnapped. I did what I had to do to get her back. I am not going to therapy.”

Inez had come over to stand beside Jocelyn. She scratched her head, then put her hands on her hips. She regarded both men steadily and added, “This is bullshit.”

Ahearn sighed again and raised an eyebrow at Inez. “I didn’t ask for your input, Graham.”

“Not that he’s entitled to one, but Richards has asked for a restraining order against you, Jocelyn,” Phil pointed out.

Jocelyn’s anger was a hot knife slicing through her gut. If it was possible for her face to flush any deeper, it did. “I want a restraining order against
him
,” she shot back. She turned back toward Ahearn. “If my child was missing right now, you’d all be singing a different tune and you know it. I did what I had to do. I do not need therapy or anger management.”

Again, Ahearn and Phil exchanged glances. They were far too calm, which only pissed her off more. Clearly, they had discussed this and decided her fate before they even approached her. Ahearn’s expression was blank, almost bored. “This is not up for discussion, Rush.”

Jocelyn narrowed her eyes and took a step toward Phil, crowding him. He didn’t back away. “This is coming from you, isn’t it? Don’t make this personal, Phil.”

“This isn’t personal,” Phil said, but his blue eyes were filled with pity.

Jocelyn didn’t know whose ass she wanted to kick more, Phil’s or her own. He’d been hell-bent on the therapy idea ever since her parents had died two and a half years earlier. When he’d questioned her apparent lack of grief, she’d made the mistake of sharing an ugly family secret with him—one she had only ever shared with Inez and Kevin. He hadn’t been able to let it go.

She held his gaze until he broke eye contact. He moved away from her, to the other side of Ahearn. It was a hollow victory.

“If that kid wants to make a stink out of this, it could be big trouble for you, Rush,” said Ahearn. “If the press gets wind of this later, and it comes out that we did nothing to remedy your lack of control—”

“Lack of—” she spat, but Ahearn held up a hand to silence her.

“We have to cover our asses. If it ever came out that you were an off-duty cop, if someone leaked cell phone video to the press, half the city would be calling for your head on a platter, demanding to know why we didn’t discipline you in some way.”

“Yeah, the half that doesn’t have kids,” Inez muttered, drawing a glare from Ahearn.

Jocelyn crossed her arms in front of her, wincing as a stabbing pain pierced her arm. “This is a bunch of public relations horseshit,” she said.

“He’s right,” Phil said.

She shot him a caustic look before speaking to Ahearn. “Fine. Anger management. No therapy, and I want a restraining order against that kid—if not for me, then for Olivia.”

Ahearn glanced over at Phil, who shrugged. “It’s your ass,” Phil said.

Ahearn gave Jocelyn a long look. Finally, he turned to leave. “See you in a few days,” he said.