Facade
I couldn’t say it. It made me sick to say it.
“It depends on how Jacob was knocked unconscious. I’ve fought many men twice and even three times my size and still won,” she said.
“But you’re different. You’ve trained for that kind of stuff. Emma’s just Emma.”
“I’ve seen small women do all sorts of vicious and cruel things. One good sneak-up and a whack with a crowbar and any man goes down. Her being smaller means she’s quiet when she walks. I won’t know until we see Jacob and until I can discern how he was attacked and what all happened to take him down.”
“It’s not Emma. It can’t be Emma,” I said.
“Don’t let a pretty face distract you, Mr. Steele. Women can be strong and dangerous, especially when adrenaline is pumping. Those videos of women lifting cars off their kids. That happens. That’s what the human body is capable of when under the influence of adrenaline. And striking a man in a dark parking garage would fuel a great deal of adrenaline through anyone’s body.”
I looked over at Sam, and her pretty face struck me. The implications of what she was saying made me wary of her presence. She was a pretty face. She was a beautiful face. The best of faces, according to my most recent exploration of her. That meant she was capable of things like this, capable of striking a man down and knocking him unconscious.
Capable of killing someone at a moment’s notice.
I wonder how many people Sam had killed in the course of her career.
I watched her face flush as guilt dripped over her eyes. She turned around and faced forward, sinking deeply into her seat. I saw her in a different light now, a light that painted her with a darkness I didn’t want to attach to her. I wanted to ask, but I knew better. Even as the wine coursed through my veins and relaxed my tongue, I knew better than to ask that question of her.
To ask her for an answer she was so obviously embarrassed and ashamed of.
“All I know with what I know right now is that Emma isn’t off the hook,” Sam said. “We can figure out more once we see and talk to Jacob.”
“If he wakes up,” I said.
“And he will. Plus, with the cameras that were supposed to be installed, I’ll have a lot of surveillance footage to go over. You have cameras in the parking garage, right?”
“We do, yes,” I said.
“Then don’t worry. I’m going to figure out who attacked Jacob.”
Chapter 18
Sam
WE LANDED EARLY THAT morning and went straight to the hospital. Jacob was still unconscious and in the process of being stitched up when we got to the hotel. Derek was talking to the doctor, and I was trying to give him his space, but I needed to know what they were talking about. I needed to know all the information he was getting.
But I was trying to give my client his space to grieve.
I walked up beside Derek and put my hand on the small of his back. I wasn’t sure if I needed to be acting like a personal assistant or a girlfriend, so I opted for a bit of both. Derek looked over at me and scanned me quickly, and the doctor promptly stopped talking.
“How is he, Mr. Steele?” I asked.
He eyed me carefully before he nodded toward the doctor.
“From what we can tell, Miss ...?”
“Williams,” I said.
“Miss Williams,” the doctor said. “From what we can tell, Mr. Carl was bashed over the back of the head repeatedly. He’s currently being cleaned and stitched up, and if I had to guess, I would say he needs around forty stitches.”
“Where on his head was he hit?” I asked. “He won’t be concussed, will he?”
“We still have to run some tests, but him being found unconscious doesn't bode well. His glasses were broken in the attack, so he’ll need another pair before we can release him. We’ll have to check his vision with and without his glasses before we can sign for his release.”
“I’ll get you another pair,” Derek said. “What else do you know?”
“That’s all we have on his condition for now,” the doctor said. “We’ll come get you when he’s ready to have visitors.”
I watched the doctor walk away as my hand slid from Derek’s back.