“Yes. She was attacked by someone wielding a knife.”
“A knife?” screeches Lauren.
“Apparently, he jumped her as she was walking through a dark section of the park. He was able to get some strikes in before another person walking in the park intervened. That person probably, no not probably, they saved her life.”
“Someone else was in the park? Who? Who saved her?” Lauren asks urgently.
Hank takes out his notebook and reads, “Robert Robinson.”
“She could have been….” Lauren begins to sob again. “We need to thank him.”
“Mr. Robinson claims to know MacKenzie,” adds Hank.
“Knows her? How?” I ask confused.
“Says he works with her.”
“There aren’t any men who work at the store,” says Lauren. “You said his name was Robert?”
I interrupt. “Bobby.” I know he’s talking about Bobby.
Hank presses a button on his phone. We watch him speak, asking about the name. He hangs up. “Yeah, he goes by Bobby.”
“Where is he?” I growl. “That guy is dangerous. Are you sure that’s the right story? Bobby’s got a thing for MacKenzie.”
Hank looks at Lauren for confirmation. “He does, but he’s sweet. I can’t see Bobby doing anything to hurt Mac.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “You two….”
“You two what?” she says too loudly.
“That’s enough. We’ll get it figured out. You don’t need to argue right here and now. Mr. Robinson is at the station; he’ll be kept there until I can question him. If he’s involved, he’s right where he needs to be. I’m going in there now to ask MacKenzie a few questions and then I’ll head to the station so I can interview Mr. Robinson. A nurse will be out to get you one at a time when I’m finished talking with her.”
Lauren nods as I mutter, “Bobby Robinson, you’re a dead man.”
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
GHOSTLY
I blink as I awaken,annoyed by all of the beeping and whirring sounds I’m hearing. I want to roll over, but I feel like something is holding me in place. And, crap, I hurt all over. The entire left side of my body feels like a Mack truck drove over it. Oh, God. My leg hurts. So does my arm and hand. “Ouch,” I moan.
I turn my head toward a new noise and see a huge, shadowy figure. I gasp. When the large form comes closer, the very little light illuminates a tired but handsome face. Handsome…. Someone else was handsome. Who?
“MacKenzie?”
“Yes?” I croak.
“I’m not sure if you remember, but I talked to you on the phone. I’m Hank Flynn with Chicago PD. Are you up to answering a few questions?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why were you in Touhy-Herbert Park?”
Clearing my throat, I wince. My throat is dry. It hurts. “I was cutting through to get to the United Center. I was, um, running late.”
“Can you tell me what happened—from the beginning? Anything you can tell me will be helpful. Descriptions of your surroundings, sounds or noises you heard, stuff like that.”
“Okay. Um, I wanted to cut a few minutes off my walk, so I took that shortcut.” I clear my throat. God, this is weird. “It was a little scary because some of the lights were out, so I put one of my earbuds in and started to walk faster.”
