But Jack didnt want allowances. He wanted better assignments, bigger pieces to write, more credit for his journalistic talent. He wanted to prove to his boss he could handle his job and his family.
He could do it. He would do it. Lauren had given him no choice.
Listen, Burt, Ill have the piece on the sheriff candidates rally finished tonight. He expelled a whoosh of air in frustration. Give me until nine. Caitlyn goes to bed by eight, and Ill e-mail you the article as soon as its done. I swear. Things have been crazy around
Listen, forget the candidates rally for now. Weve got something breaking down at the police station.
Jack perked up. He smelled a big story. This could be his break. Finally.
Theyve arrested a guysome white-collar banker typeturned in by his girlfriend. They think he could be connected to an old serial rape case they never solved. One the cops dubbed The Gentleman Rapist because the guy gained entry to the womens houses by posing as a cop doing courtesy security checks. The Good Samaritan ploy.
Good Samaritan Jacks thoughts flickered briefly to Megan. Her shy smile. Her flushed cheeks and clingy, sweat-dampened T-shirt.
With a shake of his head, Jack refocused his thoughts. Burt, I want this story. Give me this one, and you wont be sorry.
Can you get down to the police department tonight and get the particulars for the morning edition?
Jack grimaced as he slid Caitlyns dinner in the microwave. Not tonight. I dont have a babysitter.
Then Im sending Parker.
Jacks stomach clenched in irritation. Look, Caitlyn has preschool in the morning. Ill be free to talk to the cops then. Ill talk to the guys neighbors. Ill call his
first-grade teacher if I have to, but Ill get you the story. You know I can write a better story than Parker. Ill find a fresh angle, something that the TV guys and the Lagniappe Herald missed.
Jack raked his fingers through his hair, searching for the tidbit that would tip the scales in his favor. He hoped that mentioning the Herald, the other newspaper in town, would appeal to Burts competitive nature.
Im sending Parker. Burt hesitated and sighed. But you can pick up the story in the morning. After I see what you and Parker each bring to the story, Ill make my final assignment. Dont let me down on this, Jack. This is the biggest story to break in this town for months.
I hear you, Burt. And I wont let you down.
The next morning, Megan stared at the men lined up behind the one-way glass and fought the urge to throw up. Anxiety, anger and frustration twisted inside her until she thought she might shatter under the pressure.
But not now. Right now she had to pull herself together. She had a job to do. The sooner she did her job, the sooner she could get out of the small room where the walls seemed to close in on her. The stale odor of cigarettes and the noxious fumes of floor cleaner hung in the air, contributing to her queasiness.
More unsettling were all the uniforms gathered around her, the men with guns on their hips and badges on their chests.
Policemen are our friends, shed taught her class on career day. They protect us and help us during emergencies.
But the man who had attacked her had exploited her trust in a police uniform, used that trust to get inside her home. And the sea of blue uniforms was a too-vivid reminder of the army of officers whod replied to her 911 call and tramped through her home gathering evidence. Theyd asked endless questions when all she wanted to do was block out the horrid images and escape the sounds replaying in her head.
Beside her, Ginny hovered quietly, her hand on Megans shoulder in a silent show of support.
Do you recognize anything about any of them? The police detective in the dark room with them asked his questions in low, modulated tones. Ginny and the detective had taken pains to make Megans task as easy on her as possible. Still, the notion that one of the men in the next room, lined up for her inspection, could be the man whod haunted her for five years sent a chill slithering down her spine.
When she tried to answer, no sound left her mouth. After clearing her throat, Megan tried again. I recognize number three. Hes the man I saw on the news last night.
The detective shifted his weight and scribbled in the small notebook in his hand.
But Her gaze remained locked on the glowering faces behind the window.
In the periphery of her vision, the detective stopped writing and raised his head. But what?
Drawing a slow, shaky breath, she shoved down her discouragement. I cant say with any conviction that he, or any of the others, is the man who When Megan faltered, Ginny reached for her hand and squeezed it. The man who raped me.
Facing the detective, Megan sighed. God knows I wish I could. But the man who attacked me had a lightning bolt tattoo on his forearm. Andhe was balding and
A shudder race through her, remembering the face that shed worked five years to erase from her nightmares. Hes not any of those men.
Youre sure?
She heard frustration in the detectives voice. With a nod, she glanced back at the lineup of men, and the knots in her stomach tightened. The man she recognized from the television stared straight ahead. His light gray eyes stabbed her like shards of flint.