“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The police collected evidence at the crime. Fingerprints, that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but I could have been in there at any time. You’re the eye witness.” Jace moved his lean body so she couldn’t possibly escape. The guy behind her stood just far away enough for her to understand this was Jace’s issue to deal with. He was simply muscle. “The funny thing is I’ve always known who you were. The only young, hot chick in that office. I tried to talk to you more than once.”
Ari tried to ignore the creepy look on his face, but clenched her keys in her fist. Where was Oliver? Or a passing car for that matter?
“Jace, I didn’t tell the cops anything, but this is only going to get you in more trouble.” She hoped to rationalize with him but after the story Hope told her, she wasn’t sure it would work.
“Thought messing up your car would help you get the idea, but you’ve been talking to the police. That’s right…” Jace laughed, when she realized he’d been following her. She’d felt it all along, she’d just hoped it was someone else. Someone who obviously had better things to do or he’d be there right now. “I’ve been following you for some time and it’s been a treat. You like to get around, huh? Dirty dancing at the club, meeting up with different guys. I know you’ve got that lawyer on the hook.”
He made a move toward her chest with his hand. She batted it away, trying to make contact with her keys, but he stopped her, forcing the keys from her hands. They fell to the ground. Jace aggressively pushed her up against her car, using his hips to hold her, while one, calloused hand covered her mouth. With the other, Jace tugged down the zipper on her sweatshirt, shocking her skin with cold, winter air. He smiled, flashing a row of gold teeth when he saw her thin tank top, and the cloth bandage covering her new tattoo peeking out from the fabric.
“I wanted to see it myself.”
Despite the cold, Ari broke out in a sweat. She felt Jace all over her. His hand on her face, his arousal against her stomach, his dirty fingers lightly stroking against her chest, toying with the bandage. She gagged and Jace’s face went from delight to disgust. “Don’t even think of puking on me, bitch.”
His hand went from her mouth to her throat and from the corner of her eye she saw his free hand go to his belt.
“Don’t do this, Jace,” she whispered. “You’re better than this.”
Jace snorted and opened his mouth to say something but they both saw a flash movement to the side. Ari used the distraction to get her knee between his legs, ramming it upwards as hard as she could. Jace’s face contorted and he dropped both hands. “Motherfucker,” he grunted, lunging at her. He was too late. Ari darted out of his reach and toward her house, yelling for Oliver—for anyone. She couldn’t get in without her keys. She banged on the door over and over until Oliver, groggy and confused peeked through the window. His eyes popped wide open and she could hear him scramble to get the door open.
“Call the police!” she shout
ed, locking the door behind her.
Finally awake, Oliver dialed 911 and made the report, even if somewhat incoherently. A loud crash came from outside and Ari ran to the window. Jace was still out there. In the throes of a fight with the Vigilante.
He came.
“Oliver! Look!” she cried and he rushed next to her. “That guy is destroying him.”
Ari unlocked the front door and went on the porch. She knew the mystery guy wouldn’t let him get away a second time. She winced as she watched Jace’s face slam into the tree in their front yard. She heard him beg for his life. “Don’t!” Jace cried. A similar plea to one Ari had made only moments earlier. “I didn’t do this on my own,” he said, between spitting out mouthfuls of blood. “I can tell you things! I’m not the one that wants her!”
The mystery guy didn’t seem impressed and kneed Jace in the back. He hovered over him and whispered something in his ear. Ari was too far to hear and the sirens wailed on her street. She didn’t take a breath until the flashing lights stopped in front of her house and the police spilled out of the cars.
The mystery guy stood up and faced Ari. In the darkness of the night, she couldn’t see his face, cloaked by his hood. He bent down once more, slipped something into his pocket and then disappeared into the night.
* * *
This time, the police invited her back to the station. “Invite” was the nice way to put it. Forced sounded so…well, forceful. Ari willingly went with Detective Bryson, knowing her repeated involvement with Jace Watkins and the mystery man was too much to ignore.
They made Ari feel comfortable—she was the victim after all. She was given a large cup of coffee and a cushioned chair to sit in. It was all very benign except she suspected it wasn’t. Four crimes in the past month, two involving the Vigilante. All of them involving Jace Watkins, a former client in her department. The police wanted answers. She didn’t blame them.
Detective Bryson sat behind his desk and pulled out a clean sheet of lined paper. The kind reports got filed on. Ari had similar paper in her desk. He cleared his throat and asked, “Are you feeling up to this?”
As though she had a choice.
“I’m fine, let’s get this over with.”
A knock on the door interrupted them and Ari was shocked to see Nick poke his head in. He gave her a sympathetic look and said, “I’m here to advise Ms. Grant during her questioning.”
“That really isn’t necessary and Ms. Grant hasn’t requested representation,” Detective Bryson stated.
“No, let him stay. It’s fine,” she said uneasily. How did he know she was there?
Nick touched her shoulder and took the seat next to Ari. If it annoyed Bryson, he didn’t let on. “Let’s start with what happened tonight.”
Where should she start? With Nick coming over for dinner? Rebuking her advances? The ritualistic tattoo habit? Ari guessed it had to be the tattoo parlor.