“I’m sorry, Sheriff. I don’t know much. We were getting ready to close when a man walked in. He had dark clothes and a black ski mask. I know his eyes were blue because that is all I could see, no other features. It happened so fast. Ray got out the money and was going to hand it over, when he said, ‘Let the girl do it.’” She did her best to keep her voice businesslike. Noah was no longer part of her life.
Alana stopped for a minute and took a drink of water. She set the bottle back down with shaky hands.
“I was terrified, but I took a step toward him. He reached out and grabbed my wrist. He took the money. I never saw the knife coming. I was looking at his face. After that I don’t remember anything. I woke up in the hospital.”
“Sometimes after the shock has passed, you might remember more details. Your mind blocks any painful traumatic memory, but later little pieces might come to you,” he explained softly.
“I just wanted to help you feel safe again. I know you hate me, Alana. I don’t blame you, but it’s my job to make sure you stay safe,” he continued when she stayed silent.
“I don’t hate you,” she stated in a low tone, and she didn’t. She had been hurt, disappointed, and angry. She spent a lot of time thinking about Noah. Now she realized Noah just wasn’t capable of feeling anything deep for one woman. He would always flit from woman to woman looking for a perfection that didn’t exist.
“Honestly I think it was someone passing through our town. They seem to be long gone,” he stated calmly. “I won’t give up looking, but I just wanted you to know. If you have any concerns, you can come to me with them. If you remember anything, even a small detail, call me.” He continued talking without touching her again. His voice was soft and gentle like he was talking to a child, and she supposed that was how he saw her, a naïve little girl who knew nothing about life.
He took a business card out of his wallet. “Here is my card with my office and home number on it. If you need anything at all, Alana, give me a call. No matter the time.”
When she didn’t reach out to take it from him, he placed it on the coffee table with a sigh.
“Are you okay here alone? I can hang out with you awhile,” he offered.
Alana didn’t want his pity. Once she would have jumped at the chance to spend any time with him. “I’m sure you are busy, Sheriff, but thanks. I’m not your responsibility.”
“I want to be your friend, Alana. Is there any chance we can go back to that despite my bad behavior?” He gave her a pleading look, and her soft heart wanted to give in—friendship was better than nothing—until she remembered how hurt she had been every time he took out one of his blonde bimbos.
“We’re not friends anymore. Friends are people you can trust,” she reminded him bitterly. “I’m sure you have plenty of friends if you feel the need for company. My sister tells me you’re still dating Cora. I’m sure she doesn’t want her boyfriend keeping company with me.”
Noah frowned and cursed under his breath. “That is not true. Cora spreads those rumors around. I bumped into Cora at the charity ball last month. I also ran into your sister, and she pretended to trip and drop her red wine all over my shirt. Some of it splashed on Cora’s designer dress. Cora tried to make it look like we went together. We weren’t.”
Alana wanted to smile, but she held it in. Alicia was always her strongest supporter.
Noah stood up with a sigh when Alana stayed quiet. The last thing she wanted to do was have a conversation with the man who had broken her heart.
Alana stood up too and winced with pain. She grabbed her stomach. The stab wound had gone deep, and she still had the stitches. Her family told her she had lost a lot of blood by the time the medics had arrived. She had been operated on right away and listed in critical condition for days.
He grabbed her arms as if to steady her. “Are you okay, Alana?”
She breathed through the pain and nodded. She would not cry in front of this man. She had done that during their last argument. She would not lower her pride again.
“Yeah. It takes time to heal, or so I hear.”
He looked at her T-shirt with a frown. “You have a little blood soaking through.”
She looked down. She put her hand on her stomach. “I guess I forgot to change the bandage this morning. Every time my mom does it, she cries. I told her I could handle it myself.”
“I’ve had first aid training. Let me do it.”
Alana hesitated. She was embarrassed for him to see how ugly the wound looked. It would most likely scar. She wasn’t sure she could do it herself, though. She finally gave in, and he led her to the couch. It didn’t matter what he thought, she told herself. Whatever chance they had was long gone.
“It’s ugly,” she warned him. Her cheeks felt hot. It was stupid to care if he was repulsed or not, but inside she did care.
He smiled and caressed her hair softly. “I think I can handle it, sweetheart. Lay down flat on the couch.”
He went into the bathroom. He had been friends with Ray, her brother, since high school and knew his way around the Garcia household. He came back with a big red box and her bottle of pain pills.
He told her to lift her shirt. Alana felt a little uncomfortable. They had kissed and messed around but never saw each other naked. Now he was going to see the ugly gash on her stomach.
He frowned as he slowly peeled the old bandage off. He cleaned the long, raw-looking slash silently, but she could see his eyes gleaming with anger. There was a long, jagged line that went across her stomach toward her belly button.
“I’d like to get my hands on this guy.”