she had about the same time Jack’s son was born? The serial rapist? The media circus? It was him. She identified him for police.”
Mike stopped walking and frowned. “She’s sure?” he asked. That was such a sick, bold move for someone who’d just gotten a free pass. Brie had lost that trial and it was a hard loss, especially coming on the heels of her divorce. It was as if the sky was falling on her. Also, it wasn’t something men like that did. Typically, they bolted. Got away from anyone who had the balls to go after them, as Brie had.
“She’s sure,” Sam said.
Mike couldn’t help but wonder—was she hit in the head? Hallucinating? In and out of reality because of the trauma? “Her injuries?” he asked.
“Her face is battered, there are two broken ribs and the usual …” He paused. “The usual injuries incurred during a rape. You know.”
“I know,” he said. Tearing, bleeding, bruising. “Has she been seen by a rape specialist and police?”
“Yes, but she wants Mel. Understandably.”
“Of course,” Mike said. Jack’s wife, Mel, was the nurse practitioner and midwife in Virgin River and had had years of experience in a huge L.A. trauma center. She was an expert in battery and sexual assault and if she could be the medical eyes and ears, maybe Mike could cover the police angle. “I heard from them at seven this morning. They should be here in two or three hours, depending on how fast they got out of town.”
Mike noticed a uniformed Sac PD officer standing at the entrance to a room; undoubtedly that’s where Brie was. “Well, let me talk to some people, see if I can find out anything at all. But first, I’ll say hello to the family.” He moved to a large clot of people in the waiting area just down the hall. Jack’s three other sisters, their husbands, a few of his nieces. Mike was embraced and thanked. Then he got about the business of talking to nurses, got the number of the detective on the case from the officer guarding the room. All the detective could tell Mike at this time was that the suspect was still at large. The doctor would discuss her injuries, that was all. But it appeared that apart from being horribly assaulted, she would recover physically.
It was almost three hours later that Jack, Mel and baby David arrived. Jack embraced his father, then looked in surprise at Mike. “You’re here?”
“I was already close,” he said. “I thought I’d come over. If I can help, it’s better for me to be on-site.”
“Oh, man, I didn’t expect this,” Jack said.
“Hell, you’ve done more for me,” Mike said. “And you know I love Brie. Mel,” he said, reaching for baby David, “she said she wants to see you the minute you get here.”
“Of course,” Mel said, handing off the baby.
“I think she needs Mel’s opinion of how the rape evidence was collected,” Mike said to Jack. “Go hug your sisters. By that time you’ll be able to see her.”
“Have you seen her yet?” Jack asked.
“No. It’s family only. But I’ve talked to some people, trying to gather whatever facts they’ll share.”
“God,” Jack said, gripping Mike’s biceps hard. “Thanks. Mike, I didn’t expect this.”
“You should have.” He laughed, jostling little David a little. “That’s how it is with us. Right?”
Jack sat by his sister’s bedside at the county hospital for almost twelve straight hours. He had arrived at eleven in the morning and it was now 11:00 p.m. Outside her door, in the hallway, the family had gathered for most of the day, but as evening had descended they’d drifted home because she was out of danger and sedated. Mike had taken Mel and the baby back to Sam’s, but Jack hadn’t wanted to leave Brie. Brie was close to her entire family, but it was Jack with whom she had the deepest bond.
Jack was torn to pieces as he looked down on his little sister. Her face was horrific; the bruising and swelling was terrible. It looked much worse than it was, the doctor promised. There was no permanent damage; she would regain her former beauty. Every few minutes Jack would reach over, gently smooth back her light brown hair, touch her hand. She wrestled in her sleep now and then, despite the sedatives. If not for the ribs, he might have taken her into his strong arms during these struggles. Instead he would lean over her bed, touch her face where there was no swelling, drop a tender kiss on her forehead and whisper, “I’m here, Brie. You’re safe now, baby.”
At almost midnight he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look up into Mike’s black eyes.
“Go on home, Jack,” he said. “Get a little rest. I’ll sit with her.”
“I can’t leave her,” Jack said.
“I know you don’t want to. But I had a nap,” he lied. “Sam gave me a room at the house. I’ll sit right here in case she wakes up, which she probably won’t, and we’ve got the cop in the hall there. Go. Get a little rest so you can be here for her tomorrow.”
“If she wakes up and I’m not right here …”
“They’re putting heavy-duty bug juice right in the IV to get her through the night,” Mike said softly. “It’s okay.”
Jack laughed a little. “I sat by your bed through a week of nights when you were shot.”
“Yeah,” Mike said. “Payback time. Go home to your wife. See you first thing tomorrow.”
It surprised Mike that Jack actually left. He was the kind of man who went days past exhaustion to be there for someone he cared about. Mike took his place on a chair beside Brie’s bed and sat vigil. Her battered face didn’t shock him—he’d seen worse. But it hurt him inside. He couldn’t imagine the kind of monster who could do that.
The nurses came and went through the night, checking her IV, taking her blood pressure, sometimes bringing Mike coffee from their break room—and it tasted a whole lot better than what the machines dispensed. If he asked, a nurse would sit with Brie while he ran down the hall—a result of the coffee. But Brie didn’t move except for some occasional disturbances that caused her to stir fitfully.
Mike had carried fallen soldiers out of harm’s way; he’d sat by the side of dying men while sniper fire whizzed past his head. But nothing compared to what he felt while looking down at Brie, beaten like this. Thinking of her violation filled him with a kind of rage that had never been visited on him before. Although she was a beautiful woman and strong, his vision kept mixing her up with the vulnerable woman he’d taken on a picnic a couple of months ago. A pretty, young woman who’d just been left by her husband, and was crushed by the betrayal. And what fool would give her up? he thought. It was beyond him.
The rape trial had been one of the toughest of her career. It had taken her months to prepare a case against the suspect for serial rape. The forensic evidence had been strong, but in the end the only witness who hadn’t failed her was a prostitute with a bad record, and the guy walked. Brie had identified him to the police as her rapist when she’d regained consciousness.
In the early hours of the morning she turned her swollen face toward Mike and opened her eyes—or tried to. One was partially shut because of the swelling. He scooted closer. “Brie,” he whispered. “It’s me, Brie. I’m here.”
She
