Rhys, page 14
She shrugged. “I was doing my best to stay off of it anyway,” she argued, “but now? Well, now I don’t really have a whole lot of choice.” She looked up at the detective. “Do you need anything from me?”
“I sure do,” he said, “but let’s get you home. I’ll follow and can ask the questions there.”
She nodded and let Rhys push her out to the truck.
Rhys pulled up in front of her house, let Tallahassee out first, and then came around to her side. Taylor slid off the big bench seat, maybe planning to land on her good leg, but he scooped her up in his arms. Using his good leg to balance on for that moment, he slammed the truck door shut. And carried her right up to the front of the house, ignoring her protests. She finally fell silent, and he nodded. “Good, you’re getting it.”
She snorted. “You mean, the fact that you’re just being all macho?”
“The fact that I care,” he corrected her. “And that it really pisses me off that somebody would do this to you. Not only to you but to anybody handicapped.”
“And I don’t know that he even noticed my prosthetic.” He frowned at her. She shrugged. “Honestly, one of the worst nightmares I’ve ever had is the thought of being attacked, and somebody taking off my prosthetic and throwing it away.”
He nodded. “I think anybody in our situation has those kinds of nightmares. In this case, thank heavens that didn’t happen.”
“Indeed,” she murmured.
He set her down slowly onto the couch and asked, “How’s this?”
“It’s good.”
He asked, “Now your crutches are upstairs?” She stared at him. He cocked his head. “Yes, you’re using crutches.” Her shoulders slumped, as he watched her steadily. “Just for a while, until you get healed.”
“Sure.” She shrugged. “That’s what it starts as. And then—you know yourself—it takes so much longer to build back up again.”
“And that’s because you haven’t stood a chance to get there yet,” he argued, with a smile, “but you will.”
“I know. I’m just anxious, frustrated, at what appears to be my lack of progress. And wish I was pissed off, … but that sneak attack was scarier than I want to admit.”
“And yet it really isn’t because of any lack of progress on your part.”
She snorted. “Easy for you to say.”
Smiling, he raced up the stairs, found her crutches in the bedroom, then, with a quick glance around to make sure everything was okay, he headed back downstairs. He set them beside her and asked, “Do you need anything to go with this?”
“No,” she said. “I’ll be fine. It’s just, you know, crutches aren’t my thing.”
“They’re nobody’s thing,” he noted, with a smile.
She laughed at that. “I do need some coffee though. Or at least a bite to eat.”
“Or how about just some sleep?” he suggested.
She frowned at that. “Not when we have the detective coming.”
He nodded. “That’s a good point. I’ll go put coffee on.” And he walked into the kitchen, and, following her instructions on how to use her maker, he put on a pot of coffee, with enough to give the detective some when he arrived as well. As soon as Rhys was done, he returned to the living room to find her gently massaging her head.
“How’s the headache?” he asked.
“It’s a bitch,” she replied, more vehemently than she thought. And then she sighed. “The doctor offered me painkillers, but I didn’t take them.”
“That’s because you already have some here, I would imagine.”
She shrugged. “I do. I was just hoping to not get so attached to them again.”
“Did you have problems getting off them?”
She nodded. “They helped me sleep. They helped me get through the days, and I realized that they were just too much help. I wasn’t getting back mentally.”
“Got it,” he noted, “but when you’re in pain …”
“Right. It’s just that pain ends up being something else very quickly.”
“I had a problem for a while there too. I threw them out of the house. And, of course, the next time I sored up my leg,” Rhys added, “I was in trouble.”
“Right. We do these things because it seems like a good idea at the time, but sometimes I think we end up hating ourselves over it.”
“And yet sometimes it’s really the best answer.”
“Well, I didn’t throw them away,” she noted. “They’re in the downstairs bathroom.”
“Do you want anything now?” He turned and looked at her.
She shook her head. “I’ll leave off until bedtime.”
“Okay, that makes sense too.” Hearing a noise, Rhys straightened and looked out the window. “The detective’s here.”
She nodded. “Good, the sooner we get this over with, the better.”
He let the detective in, watching Tallahassee’s reaction. He’d learned to respect animals’ judgment of character a long time ago. They didn’t have the same reasons necessarily for not liking somebody that Rhys might have, but he never discounted it. The detective passed with flying colors, and that was good too.
Django stepped closer to her, looked her over, and asked, “Ma’am, how’re you feeling?”
“Like I’ve had the shit kicked out of me,” she said bluntly.
He nodded. “Had that a time or two myself,” he shared, “not much fun.”
She nodded. “I just wish I understood what was going on.”
“That’s partly why I’m here,” he confirmed. “We need to get to the bottom of this.”
“And I get that,” she agreed, “but I’m wondering if it isn’t from having Rhys around here.” Rhys looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. “When you think about it, that’s when this all started to go to pot.”
“Not quite,” he disagreed. “I only happened to be here when that drive-by shooting happened.”
She frowned and then conceded that point. “Fine, maybe it wasn’t your arrival then.” She frowned at that. “I don’t know what it was.”
“I have an idea though,” the detective stated. “I spoke to Jager, and he pulled a few strings—not to get us very much in the way of information because I gather the military doesn’t pass on much information,” he shared, cocking an eyebrow in Rhys’ direction, who immediately nodded.
“Nope, they sure don’t.”
“But the internal sexual harassment investigation has ramped up, and they’ve started talking to other people involved in your case, and that would have then brought in more interviews for Colby. They didn’t come out and say that they had put him on alert that this investigation was happening right now, but I don’t think it takes much to realize that it’s potentially all connected.”
“I would have assumed it was connected,” she agreed. “I just don’t quite understand why the assault was done today.”
“And that’s why I would ask if anything’s changed.”
“Rhys,” she said immediately. “Just Rhys being here.”
“Not true,” Rhys disagreed. “Yes, I’m a new factor here, but we also went to talk to this friend of yours, Andrew.”
“Right. And that’s the guy I saw today,” the detective noted.
“And was he helpful?” Rhys asked.
“Not much. He did give us the address of his friend Joland, once Andrew realized the vehicle Joland drove up in was stolen and was sitting in Andrew’s driveway, making him look like a guilty party—or at least connected.” Django grimaced. “Andrew got quite pissed about it.”
“Yeah, he doesn’t like dealing with shitheads,” she added, relaxing back into the couch, her eyes closing.
“We can do this another time if you want,” the detective stated suddenly.
Her eyes flew open; she looked at him and said, “No, it won’t be any better any other time. Better now while it’s still fresh.”
“And yet I understand that you don’t remember much.”
She shrugged. “Not much, no.” She gave him the same story that she’d told Rhys. “Honestly, once it started, once he grabbed me, I didn’t have a chance to do very much at all.”
Rhys nodded. While Taylor and the detective talked, and she relayed everything that had happened, Rhys poured coffee for three and brought it to the living room. She hadn’t brought up anything new or different—not that he’d expected her to. It just would be nice if there were some sort of understanding of what the hell was going on.
He thought, at the core of it, it was really simple. Somebody was heading for military court, discharge, and potentially serving time. And Rhys was all for it honestly. Assholes like this were not anybody who he wanted to have around her at all. Letting them get away with this crap, when you had the ability to stop it, made you just as bad in Rhys’s opinion.
As he set down the coffee, he heard her say something about a smell. He looked at her sharply. “What do you mean, smell?”
She frowned as she thought about it, closing her eyes, her hand instinctively going to her throat. “There was just this smell. I don’t even know how to describe it.”
“Something like chloroform over your mouth?”
She grimaced. “Well, definitely something was over my mouth, but I thought it was his hand. And, yes, it could have been chloroform.” She stared at Rhys. “Why didn’t I remember that before?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes the memory does that.” He looked over at the detective. “That makes more sense than anything I’ve heard yet.”
The detective looked at him. “In what way?”
“She’s a fighter, not the easiest to subdue, and it’s hard to strangle somebody sitting in a truck from the outside like that,” he explained. “If you think about it, the whole angle of the arm is wrong.”
The detective thought about it and slowly nodded. “So you think he used something to knock her out first?”
“If it were me, I would,” he confirmed.
She snorted at that. “We keep coming back to the fact that, as far as you’re concerned, he did a lot of things that you would do.”
“If I were the kind of asshole who would do something like this—to not only a woman but also a disabled woman—yeah, that’s exactly what I would do.”
She frowned at that. “And I’m not sure he knew I was disabled.”
“If he’d seen your file, or knew anything about you, wouldn’t he know?” Rhys asked her.
“Maybe. But maybe he doesn’t have that information available,” she replied thoughtfully. “And it’s not like it’s something I have advertised.”
“I’m not sure you’d have to. You walk with a limp and a bit of an awkward gait still,” he commented. “Although you’re getting a lot better, it’s not there yet.”
She nodded. “I get it and maybe he just—” She stopped, frowned. “Maybe he didn’t think I was a threat because of the disability. And maybe he was kicking my leg because he thought it would keep me down,” she suggested, holding up her hands, palms out. “He’d be like that.”
The detective stepped in and said, “Or he didn’t know that you were disabled because he isn’t the guy from the military that you have the accusations against.”
She nodded slowly. “And that would make sense. Colby may not have told anybody.”
“And that could have been just somebody Colby hired on to do this part. Let’s go back to that family now,” the detective suggested. “Can you explain the relationship between you and these two guys?”
“Three guys, at that,” Rhys stated.
At his interruption, she turned to look at him.
“Andrew, Colby, and you knew Colby’s brother, Joland, too,” he reminded her.
“Yes, but not well,” she added, “and he’s not somebody that I would have chosen to do anything with.”
“Sure, but that just means it’s even more important that we find out how involved he is.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
“You don’t worry about it,” Rhys stated. “That’s for the detective to find out.”
She laughed at that. “So now it’s okay for me to stick my head in the sand?” she teased Rhys.
“Dealing with Colby and Joland are not exactly your thing, right?” the detective asked.
“Nope.”
“So now, tell me about these guys,” Django said.
She shrugged and led him through what she knew. “Honestly I haven’t had anything to do with Andrew at all since I’ve come back. Whether that’s something that’s pissing him off, I don’t know, but I can’t imagine that he would care either way.”
“Andrew did open up to you, did he not?” Rhys asked the detective.
At that, the detective nodded. “Once we could prove that the vehicle in his driveway was stolen and that he was either involved or potentially a patsy for whatever was going on, yes. Andrew wasn’t happy about it.”
“No, I don’t imagine he would be,” she noted thoughtfully. “He’s very much against almost all authority, particularly after his stint in the military. I think he’s also very aware of the power of authority, and so he tends to keep a low profile and to stay on the good side of everyone, while operating in the shadows.”
“Do you think he’s doing anything criminal?”
She stared at him, shrugged, and replied, “I have no idea what he’s doing. I don’t know what he does for work. I mean, like I mentioned, we lost touch, and he didn’t want anything to do with us after his military stint.”
“And I find it interesting that he blames you for his time in the military,” the detective noted.
“Maybe,” she agreed. “I guess he went along because we were going in, but his heart wasn’t in it. So I’m not sure why he ended up feeling like he needed to go, but he did.”
“Right.” The detective nodded and scribbled down more notes.
Rhys sat quietly beside her, listening to her explanation, until a growl came at his feet. He reached a hand down, letting the others talk, and whispered to the dog, “What’s the matter, boy?”
At that, Tallahassee straightened up and looked around. Something was obviously bothering him. Rhys got up from the couch and walked with him, following the dog’s lead to wherever he decided they needed to go. As it was, the dog appeared to be more concentrated on the back door.
He looked over at her and said, “I’ll just take him outside.”
She nodded and continued talking with the detective, likely not even registering that Tallahassee was bothered by something. He stepped out to the back door, ever mindful of the bullet that she had found here. And needed to remember to discuss that with the detective as well.
As soon as he got out here, Tallahassee’s nose went up, and his growls increased. A whistle came from a distance. His ears twitched. And that brought in an element that Rhys hadn’t expected. Somebody was quite comfortable with dogs and either had already made friends with Tallahassee, which wouldn’t be good, or was quite comfortable with the idea that he could make friends with him. Also not something that Rhys wanted to think about. And then a K9 military connection was also possible. Damn.
Tallahassee, his tail not wagging but definitely uncertain, looked over at Rhys for an order. He immediately put him on guard and walked outside, farther into the backyard. Taylor’s property had a fence on all sides, and no gate was on the back. Some acreage was behind the fence but probably not all hers. He studied the area, looking to see where the whistle had come from. When it came again, the dog’s tail started to wag. He immediately held him off and made sure that he knew that he was on guard again. With that, the dog settled down and studied the area all around him.
“Seems to be something that you are not sure what to do with,” he murmured.
Tallahassee, hearing something in Rhys’s voice, looked up at him and whined.
“It’s all right, boy. We just have some work cut out for us.”
But it was necessary work, if he would look after Taylor. Not that Taylor would be all that happy to be looked after. He smiled at the thought because she would be just that much crankier about not wanting to have a guard around, and yet she needed him. Tallahassee remained definitely uncertain, while Rhys studied the surrounding darkness, looking for movement, looking for anything that would give him an idea of where this person was, who obviously was known to Tallahassee.
As he watched, a shadow slowly detached itself in the far distance. Rhys sank down a bit farther behind the wooden fence, waiting to see how bold this guy would be. He was pretty bold, as he soon hopped the fence and came toward Tallahassee. Rhys watched the dog carefully. However, now understanding that this wasn’t necessarily a friend, Tallahassee was on guard and watched him carefully.
When the man called out to him, he didn’t use Tallahassee’s name, which was good because that would mean that this guy didn’t know Taylor enough to realize what the dog’s name was.
Rhys continued to watch the stranger, who walked slowly closer to Tallahassee. Rhys waited, until the intruder was just about at the War Dog. Rhys crouched down low and waited, and, just as he was about to pounce, a light went on in the kitchen, and a voice called out.
The detective was looking for him.
And, just like that, the intruder raced back and jumped the fence and took off. Soon Rhys heard a vehicle in the distance driving away, and he swore, realizing once again his intruder had gotten away. He bolted to his feet in time to see the detective step out. He glared at Django. “I was just about to catch an intruder.”
The detective frowned at him.
Rhys continued. “He came over the back fence, whistling to the dog and talking to him.”
“Did he have a weapon?”
“Not that I could see, no,” Rhys noted in disgust. “But you called out just at the time, and he heard you, and he bolted out over the back fence. A vehicle took off right away after that.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
He shook his head. “It’s too dark. But, speaking of which, did she tell you about the bullet?”
“She gave me her version of it, yes,” he replied. “The trouble is, we obviously have something going on here that we’re not too sure what’s happening.”
