While he waits for the arrangement to be made, he pulls out a phone and surfs on it, turning fully away from the camera. He pays for the arrangement in cash and then leaves.
“Once again,” I tell Bebe, but in truth, I’ll probably watch this video a good dozen times before I’m satisfied I’ve gleaned all the necessary information from it.
It starts once more, and Rachel moves from her stool to the coffee pot for a refill. I lean inward to get a better look.
“Is that him?” Joslyn’s voice hits me from behind, and it sounds a little gruff as if she’d just woken up. Sure enough, when I twist, she’s there in a silk robe that hits just above her knees with her hair a wild mess. She looks utterly fuckable.
Stepping back slightly, I motion her forward to have a closer look. She does, wrapping her arms protectively around her stomach as she watches the video. When it gets to the part where the employee leaves to make the arrangement and he turns away from the camera even more to surf on his phone, I ask Joslyn, “Do you recognize him?”
Her eyes don’t leave the screen, but she gives a slight shake of her head. Her voice is soft and tentative. “He was wearing a ski mask.”
I already knew that. Besides, it wasn’t really what I was seeking. I was wondering if there was an overall recognition she felt upon seeing him, especially if she’d seen him somewhere else and hadn’t known who it was. But I don’t push her on it.
“I never understood that,” she murmurs, her eyes still riveted on Bebe’s computer screen.
“What’s that?” Bebe asks.
“Why he’d wear a mask to kill me.” My skin turns cold from her words. “I mean… not like I could identify him, right?”
“He was worried about you having security cameras in your house,” I answer, resisting the urge to put a protective arm around her. I want to pull her into my side so she knows I will handle every single vulnerability she’s feeling right now and make it all go away.
She nods, a slight acknowledgment she hears me as she continues watching the video. We’re all silent, Rachel staying on the other side of the counter as she sips her coffee. The video ends, and I don’t ask Bebe to replay it as I don’t want Joslyn to look at him anymore.
“Onions,” she says as her eyes stay glued to the laptop.
“Onions?” I ask.
She turns to me, her nose wrinkling in distaste. “His breath smelled like onions. And burnt coffee. And I think in ordinary circumstances, it would have made me sick, but I was so scared I didn’t even have time to be sick.”
Bloody hell, but that slays me. Knowing she thought her life was going to end. I’d been in that scenario before, and it’s a fear that’s almost indescribable.
“I was raped,” Bebe says quietly, and my lungs practically deflate at the sudden proclamation. I don’t recall anything in her file about that, so I have to assume it went unreported.
All heads turn to her way, except Joslyn steps in closer and puts a light hand on Bebe’s shoulder in sympathy. Jos’s face is pained, but Bebe’s eyes are clear and her voice is strong as she gives a reassuring smile. “My attacker’s eyes were bloodshot. I don’t know if maybe he was lacking in sleep or maybe he was on drugs, but for the longest time, I would have nightmares about those bloodshot eyes. Except in my dreams, they weren’t naturally red. More like supernaturally red. My point in telling you that is I can promise—over a period of time—those memories will lessen significantly as you process and deal. I can’t say you’ll ever let it go, but it will get easier.”
Christ… now I feel the need to hug Bebe, but I restrain myself. Besides, Joslyn beats me to the punch and leans over to wrap the woman in her arms. “I’m sorry that happened to you. Thank you for sharing that.”
Bebe gives a slight shrug as Joslyn pulls back. “It’s nothing. I put it behind me long ago.”
While her words are strong and her tone staunch, there’s something dark in her eyes that makes me doubt it. Bebe’s been through a lot in the last several years. Blackmailed, arrested, and sent to prison, raped at some point in that time frame.
Torn from her son.
I make a mental note to talk to Dr. Ellery about Bebe. I don’t have any doubts about my hiring of her, but the rape is an added element I need to keep at the forefront of my mind. I don’t want to put her in any scenario that could be harmful to her psyche.
Smiling, Joslyn looks around the kitchen at us. “How about I make breakfast for everyone? French toast?”