Jose stood. “Looks to me like you still kicked his ass, Rachel. Kudos to you.”
She grinned, then stood with Jack still at her back. “Thank you, Jose. I promise to take care of these bandages.”
Jose and his partner left, and Jack made sure she was settled comfortably with a fresh cup of tea before Mark interviewed her. She recounted what had happened when David entered her apartment, hating to relive it all, but knowing it was important.
Mark started to leave, and Jack walked him to the door. “I’ll come to the station as soon as Shiloh gets here.”
Rachel could have pretended she didn’t need her aunt, but moments later, Shiloh raced through her door, arms extended as Shiloh engulfed her in a tight hug.
Jack walked over, and Rachel shifted to his arms. “I have to go to the station. But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Rachel nodded against his chest, then leaned back to peer into his eyes, safe in the knowledge that he would return. She whispered, “My hero.”
He held her tight. “You’re the hero, Rachel. You fought.”
Because she'd made a choice at that moment when David had grabbed her. She'd chosen survival. She'd chosen to fight, to keep him talking, to wait for rescue rather than surrender to fear.
She'd chosen not to let anyone take something from her she wasn’t willing to give. And just like years before, Jack came.
Then he grinned. “But we need to work on your aim.”
She dropped her forehead to his chest and laughed.
34
Jack sat across from David Peterson in the interview room, having to remind himself to unclench his fists. Mark was beside him, notepad out, recorder running. But all Jack could think about was Rachel's pale and terrified face as David had pulled her in front of him like a coward’s shield. Her scream had cut through him like a knife.
If I'd been thirty seconds later. If Rachel hadn't fought back. If she hadn't kept him talking long enough for me to get there?—
Jack twisted his head, hearing his neck crack. He forced himself to focus. He had a job to do.
David sat slumped in his chair, wrists cuffed to the table, his eyes red-rimmed and unfocused. The alcohol was wearing off now, leaving him hollow and defeated.
“Let's start at the beginning,” Jack said, his voice flat and professional even though every instinct in him wanted to reach across the table and land his fist in David’s face. “Where did you first start using and dealing in steroids?”
David's throat worked as he swallowed. “Richmond.” David sighed heavily. “I went to high school there. Lucky me… my fucking dad was the wrestling coach.”
“Tell me about your father,” Mark said as Jack watched David's face carefully.
David's expression twisted with something ugly… maybe resentment, anger, or old wounds that had never healed. “He never allowed anything but a winner. If I lost, I sat on the porch. Not allowed to come into the house until he thought I'd mentally overcome the loss. Didn’t matter how cold it was outside… my ass was on the porch. All night.”
Jack felt his stomach turn, and for the first time, he felt a twinge of sorrow for the man sitting across from him. A father who made love conditional on performance. A kid who learned that winning was the only thing that mattered, that losing meant rejection and shame.
“God, he was such a prick,” David muttered, almost to himself.
“You were a good wrestler,” Jack prompted.
“Yeah… I was good.” David's voice strengthened slightly, pride breaking through the despair. “Made state champion in my division. Got a scholarship to the University of Maryland.”
“So you left home?”
David scoffed. “My old man wanted me to go to VCU so I'd be close, and he could control me. But I wanted out of the fucking house. So I went to Maryland.”
“And at college, the competition was harder,” Mark said.
“Yeah.” David rubbed his face with his cuffed hands. “And drugs were plenty. Someone brought pills to practice one day. Said it was easy. It didn’t take long for my body to change, and I was stronger. But I was careful and never overused them.”
Jack made a note, his pen pressing hard enough to nearly tear the paper. David was talking about illegal steroid use like it was nothing. Like it was just another training technique.
