The reception desk is empty, which isn’t surprising given that it’s almost ten-thirty at night. Ina bigger city, the station would be fully staffed twenty-four-seven. But here, the officers tag team to answer phones and greet visitors when the regular receptionist, Glory, isn’t on duty.
So I’m stuck at the desk, drumming my fingers impatiently while I wait for someone to come out front to meet me. Spotting the little security camera positioned above me, I wave at it while forcing a tight smile.
After what feels like hours but is probably only a couple of minutes, one of the newer officers, Dylan Holmes, pushes through the door that leads to the back of the building. He’s moving much too slowly for my taste, and I have to bite the inside of my mouth to keep from snapping at him to walk faster.
Once he gets closer, he calls out, “Hey, Alec. Sorry to keep you waiting. Paperwork, you know? You here for Miss Winston?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell him sarcastically,No, I’m just here at the police station for the fun of it.Got tired of watching police procedurals, so I figured I’d get an up-close-and-personal look instead.
But I’m not going to take out my frustration on him; not when I know damn well who I’mreallyangry with.
Well, two people. The intruder, first. And then, myself.
Through gritted teeth, I force myself to replypleasantly, “Yes, I’m here to see Hazel. Can you take me to her?”
He bobs his head. “Of course.” Motioning for me to follow, he heads back in the direction he came. “I heard about what happened,” he adds. “Lucky she had that pepper spray. Really, I think all women should carry some. Sucks that they need to, but better prepared than not, you know?”
“Idoknow,” I reply tightly. “So. Hazel?”
“In the staff lounge,” he answers. “Sage—Officer Nelson, I mean—said she didn’t want to leave Miss Winston in one of the interrogation rooms while she waited for you. So she’s in the lounge instead.”
We pass several closed doors before he slows. Then he opens a wooden door with a sign proclaiming,Staff Lounge (but not too much lounging!)on the front of it. He steps inside, and I follow close behind him.
As soon as I catch my first glimpse of Hazel, it’s a battle not to race over and pull her into my arms.
Sitting on a worn couch with her arms wrapped around herself, she looks small. Scared. And achingly vulnerable.
She jolts at the sound of us coming in, fear flashing across her face before she can hide it. But relief floods her expression as soon as she sees me, just as it did last night at the hospital.
Crossing the room at a normal pace rather thanthe run I’d prefer, I say, “Sorry I couldn’t get here sooner.”
“Oh, no, it’s okay.” Pushing up from the couch, she sways for a moment before steadying herself.
Without thought, I close the distance between us and wrap my arm around her waist, guiding her back down to the couch. “Let’s sit for a minute. Okay?”
Hazel looks at me with pink-rimmed eyes. Her chin quivers. “Okay.”
I touch her hand, wincing at the chill of her skin. So I take her hands in mine and rub them gently as I ask, “How are you feeling?”
She hesitates. “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” My eyebrows shoot up. “Are you sure?”
Then her sleeve moves to reveal a large red mark on her arm. A mark that looks a lot like the shape and size of a man’s hand.
Rage erupts inside me. I have to take a couple deep breaths to keep from exploding. Once I trust myself to speak without yelling, I say, “Did he touch you?”
She blinks. Then she looks down at her arm, frowning at it. “Just this. From when he grabbed me. But then I got the pepper spray to work, and he let me go.”
I don’t like the flatness of her voice. Or the pallor of her skin. Or the flutter of her pulse at her neck.
“Did the police see it?”
Hazel nods. “Yes. Officer Nelson had me show her.”
“And what about this?” I ask. I gesture towards the red and brown stained fabric covering her knees.
“I fell. While I was running to get help.”
