Back Against the Wall - Page 75



His jaw was so tight his molars ached.

“I started to push myself up, and that’s when I saw him going back for another swing. So I threw myself at his legs, and he had to adjust mid-swing.”

When the bat had smashed into her upper arm. Tony wished he couldn’t envision that moment with no effort at all. “Did you get your hands on him?”

“Just for a second.” She frowned. “I think he was wearing sweatpants. Something soft. You know?”

“Black.”

“He had a black hoodie on, and what I think were black athletic shoes. There might have been a metallic design on the sides. I saw him running that way—” she pointed, just as Officer Kelly said she had for him “—and he passed under the streetlight. That’s really the only look I had at him, and it wasn’t good because of the SUV in the way.” The streetlight was on the corner at the cross street. The city didn’t bother lighting alleys.

Tony had every intention of calling the owner of these townhouses tomorrow and urging him or her—strongly—to improve the lighting in the back. Motion-sensitive lights would be good.

“But you didn’t see his face at all.”

She bit her lower lip as she shook her head. “I think it was covered, but I’m not positive. I mean, I was already falling as I started to turn. And, you know, I kind of was focused on the bat.” She sounded apologetic. “And then I was on my face and, when I lunged for him, I didn’t lift my eyes higher than his knees.”

“Any sense of height?” Not that he expected anything helpful. Victims almost always exaggerated the size of assailants and, in this case, Beth hadn’t been on her feet long enough to judge their relative heights. But he had to ask.

“Tall,” she said. “But not huge. He was more…lean.”

As he would describe both Alan Schuh and Michael Longley. Tim Oberholtzer, the banker, was heftier. Tony had done a search for photos and had found two in the Frenchman Lake newspaper taken close to the time of Christine Marshall’s murder. Even then, the guy had some extra padding and a soft jawline. He was a few years older than the other two men, too. And still married to the same woman. After Beth’s description of her assailant, Oberholtzer dropped even lower on Tony’s list of possibilities.

Tony really needed to connect with the senior partner in the accounting firm and ask for names of Christine’s male clients, particularly any she might have gotten friendly with.

“Smell?” he asked.

Beth looked startled, then thought about it. Finally, she said, “Nothing I remember except, you know, a whiff from the Dumpster, and some oil or gas.”

“Okay.” Seeing her sway, he pushed the door open and swung her back into his arms despite her protest, carrying her through the townhouse to her bedroom. There, he helped her undress. She left on her panties, and, doing his best to ignore her beautiful breasts, he was able to work an oversize T-shirt over her cast. It fell almost to mid-thigh.

Seeing gauze taped to her knees had him gritting his teeth again. Bruises were forming, too, and he’d seen her wince as she stuck her hands through the arms of the shirt. Had the doctor X-rayed both wrists to look for additional broken bones?

He piled pillows behind her and pulled up the covers. “Let me get some water so you can take some more of your meds.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “Are…you going to sleep with me?”

“I am, if you don’t have any objection.”

She relaxed. “No. I’m not sure how well I’d sleep if I was alone.”

Tony shook his head, smiling. “I think once this pain pill hits, you’ll be out like a light.”

At her request, he also brought her a couple of soda crackers, which she nibbled without a crumb escaping, as far as he could tell.

“The sister I checked on tonight, Eloisa, seems to be living on crackers right now. Like I said, she’s having trouble keeping anything down. Her doctor recommended them.”

“See?” Despite everything, she appeared to be teasing him. “They’re the best medicine.”

Once she finished the crackers and set the glass on the bedside stand, Tony sat on the edge of the mattress, close enough to smooth her hair back from her forehead. He used fingertips and thumbs to massage her temples, careful to avoid touching the beginnings of a bruise on her jaw. Beth turned her face into his hand, her eyes sinking shut.

Tags: Janice Kay Johnson Billionaire Romance
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