how I can say that.” She swallowed, dredging up the courage to keep talking, to keep pushing, gently. “I don’t share this with many people, but I was once abused by a man and I know what you’re feeling right now. You want to die. You wish you were dead. You even pray that you will die. Death is preferable to what you’re feeling.”
Brooke’s eyes focused on Sarah. “You were raped?” Her voice was raspy.
This is what Sarah wanted—a response. Now she had to follow through. “I was kidnapped by a drug dealer who murdered my fiancé in front of me. He didn’t rape me physically, but he raped my mind and my soul.” Her breath was trapped in her chest and she had to take a moment. “He…he forced me to strip in one of his clubs and he made me strip in front of him and he…he touched me in ways a woman fears, dreads—against her will.”
“Did you feel dirty?”
“Yes.”
“I do, too. I want to take a bath to wash his smell from my body, to wash everything away. But it will still be there, won’t it?”
“Only if you let it.”
“How do I stop it?”
“By letting people, your family, help you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t see my parents.”
“Why?”
“Because this is my fault. They said I couldn’t go to the party, so I lied and said I was spending the night at my friend’s house, then my friend and I went to the party.”
“Right now your parents are more worried than angry with you. They need to see that you’re okay.” Sarah didn’t know Brooke’s parents. She was going on how most parents would react.
Brooke didn’t say anything, just plucked at the sheet with her fingers.
“This is how you start to get better—by facing life again. Your parents love you, don’t shut them out.”
“Mom said I could always talk to her about anything, but I don’t think I can talk about…about…”
“You don’t have to,” Sarah assured her. “They only need to see you.”
Dr. Daley stuck his head in the door and motioned Sarah outside. Sarah stood. “I’ll be right back.”
An anxious expression came over Brooke’s face. “You won’t leave, will you?”
“No. I’m just going to speak with the doctor.”
Brooke was responding, asking questions. That was good, very good.
Sarah met Jim outside the door. “The police are getting antsy and want to question Brooke. I told the detective it’s up to you, so you might want to speak with them.”
“Fine,” Sarah replied and walked to where Daniel, another detective and Russ Devers stood. She’d dealt with Russ before. He was a macho, take-no-prisoners type of cop who never quite understood how his brusqueness affected a traumatized person. She didn’t like him. The other man, she didn’t know. Daniel, she knew—too well.
“When can we see her?” Russ asked point-blank before she even reached them.
“I’m not sure. I—”
“Listen, Ms. Welch,” Russ interrupted in a scathing tone. “This girl is the only person alive who can tell us anything about the rapist. That sicko is on the loose and we need information and we need it now. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, I understand you, Detective Devers, but if you go barging in there and bombard her with questions, she’ll shut down completely and you won’t get a thing. She won’t talk to her parents and she’s barely talking to me. I need more time.”
“Goddammit.” Russ swung away in anger.
“Calm down, Russ.” Daniel looked at Sarah.
She felt her insides tighten. She’d seen that compassionate gaze before and she didn’t need Daniel’s concern, nor did she want it.
“Sarah, it’s crucial that we speak with her,” Daniel said. “Two girls are dead and she’s the only link the detectives have to the rapist. We need your help here.”
Sarah knew how the cops felt about her and it didn’t bother her. What bothered her was their disregard of the victim’s feelings. What they didn’t realize was that she wanted the creep off the streets as much as they did. They just disagreed on how to go about doing it. In this case, though, she was aware that time was of the essence.
“I’ll see what I can do.” With that, she went back to Brooke.
BROOKE WAS IN THE SAME POSITION, but this time she turned when Sarah entered. Before Sarah could say a word, Brooke said, “They want me to talk, don’t they?”
“Yes, the police are waiting.”
“I can’t,” Brooke cried. “Please don’t make me.”
Sarah resumed her seat and reached through the bed rail for the girl’s trembling hand. “I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
Brooke took a deep breath and Sarah tried to think of a way to reassure her yet convey how imperative it was for her to talk. “Have you read anything about the other rapes in the paper?”
“Yes. He killed them.”
“That’s right, and he will continue with his crimes until he’s caught.”
“You mean, he’ll rape another girl?”
“He’s what’s known as a serial rapist and he won’t stop until he’s put behind bars.”
The silence dragged as Brooke thought about the situation. “They want my help, but I don’t know anything.”
“You might and not realize it.”
“Did you have to tell your story?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. It had taken all the courage she had.
“I—I…” Brooke stopped and started again. “I don’t think I can, but I don’t want this to happen to another girl and…”
“And what?”
“Will you stay with me while I talk to them?”
A sigh of relief escaped Sarah. “Yes, I’ll be right here.”
“Okay,” Brooke said. “I want the police to catch him.”
Sarah patted her hand. “I’ll get them.”
Outside the room, she addressed all three detectives. “She’ll see you, but please take it slow and don’t push her.”
“Ah, Ms. Welch, I wouldn’t think of doing that,”
