MacNamaras Lady

Chapter Nine

Missy gripped the strap of her purse tight as she walked down the busy hallway in the police station. The floor tiles were dingy gray and the paint was peeling from parts of the wall. Phones were ringing and people talking. In the distance someone was yelling.

“Nothing to worry about,” the officer reassured her. Detective Stark. That was his name. He’d told her that twice in the past five minutes, both times with quiet patience. He must be used to witnesses being nervous.

Her hands were cold as he led her into a small room with a two-way mirror. There were two uncomfortable-looking metal chairs and a scarred wooden table. Missy couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to spend much time here. Although, that was probably the point.

The overhead light was bright, illuminating the dull gray of the room. She would be able to see everyone in the other room but the people in it would not be able to see her. Taking a deep breath, she peered toward the mirror. There was no one in the room across from her. Yet.

“We’re going to bring in a group of eight men and I want you to tell me if you see your other attacker there.” His eyes were tired, but kind. “No pressure.”

Easy for him to say. The attack had taken place almost a month ago now, but it was still fresh in Missy’s mind. At least the nightmares were fading. She only had them on the rare night, usually when she slept alone. When T.S. stayed over, she slept like a baby.

Missy was surprised their affair had gone on as long as it had. She kept expecting T.S. to walk away. Heck, she talked herself into getting out of their relationship at least twice a week but always changed her mind. They had much more in common than she’d believed. There was more to their arrangement than just fabulous sex.

He made her laugh. He’d reopened doors to her life that she’d closed years ago and she’d found they weren’t all that painful to go back through. She’d rediscovered her love of football, for one. They watched bad action movies and critically acclaimed dramas. They shared their music interests. They had friends in common.

T.S. might be blue collar, but he was driven to succeed. He owned his own business, which was doing well in spite of the recession. He talked to his mother several times a week.

Just because she’d never met the woman didn’t mean he was hiding their relationship. After all, she wasn’t lining up a trip home to introduce him to her folks. If she never saw them again it would be too soon.

“Ready?” Detective Stark’s voice startled her, bringing her back to reality.

“Yes.” She wanted this done.

The officer walked over to a wall intercom system and pressed a button. “Bring ’em in.”

The door opened and Missy’s grip on her purse turned into a stranglehold. Eight men trooped in along with two guards. The men all lined up facing the mirror. They all knew someone was in here watching them. Some of them glared. Others looked totally bored. Only one appeared scared, fidgeting and glancing nervously around the room.

A shiver raced down her spine and she found herself wishing she’d asked Candy to come with her. Her friend had offered. Missy hadn’t thought she’d find the task as difficult as it was.

“Take your time.”

Missy nodded and started on the right side. The man was tall with a large beer gut. Not him. The next guy had a scar running down his left cheek. She would have remembered that.

Her eyes hit the third man and she froze. Brown hair and blue eyes. He seemed harmless until you looked deep into his gaze. His wiry build was deceptive. He was much stronger than he appeared. She knew that firsthand.

“Him.” She pointed to the suspect. “The third man from the right with the blue T-shirt.”

“You sure?” Detective Stark was studying her, not the man she pointed out.

Missy rubbed her hands up and down her arms, suddenly frozen in spite of the fact she was wearing her coat. “I’m sure. I’ll never forget his face.”

Stark nodded. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

He left the room closing the door behind him. Her attacker chose that moment to glance up at the mirror and smile. She jerked away even though she knew he couldn’t see her.

She sucked in a breath. She’d have to face him in court when the time came. And not just him but her other attacker as well. She could do this. Besides, there was T.S.’ statement. He’d gotten a good look at both of them, had seen what they were doing.

The men filed out of the room. The door closed behind them. The silence closed in around her and she was grateful when the detective came back for her. “Come with me.” He motioned her out and she was more than happy to leave it behind. “You sure I can’t get you some coffee?”

“I’m sure, but thank you.” She wanted out of here as fast as possible. She also didn’t think her churning stomach could handle coffee.

Stark led her into his office and motioned her into the chair across from his desk. It was an old wooden one and slightly battered. Like all the furniture around here, it had seen better days. Missy supposed it was functional and that was all that mattered.

“You’ve confirmed that Milo Hawkins is your second attacker.”

“That’s his name?” Somehow it felt different knowing his name. Silly, but true. It made him more real and less of the boogeyman.

The detective shuffled some files before pulling one out and opening it. “Yup. Milo and his good buddy Henry Banks have rap sheets a mile long. They started young and never stopped.”

Henry Banks was the man who’d been arrested on the scene that night.

Stark closed the file and studied her. “It will probably be a while before this goes to court, if it goes at all.”

“What do you mean?”

Once again she was struck by how tired the detective looked. His graying hair was cut short and his face clean-shaven, but beneath the clean-cut exterior was a man who was weighed down by life. Not surprising when you considered what he did for a living.

“They might plea down to avoid a trial.”

“That can happen?” She was shocked and slightly appalled, but at the same time relieved that she might not have to confront the men in a courtroom.

“Yeah, it can, and most likely will. Look,” the detective got up and came around his desk, perching on the edge. “We got Henry on scene. We’ve got Milo, who still had his fancy knife on him.” The detective shook his head. “He should have ditched it. But it matches the weapon used on scene. It was distinctive.”

Missy remembered the long blade with the distinctive silver skull on the pommel and the black carved handle.

“The guy who rescued you—MacNamara—he gave us a very accurate description of the weapon.”

Missy nodded. T.S. had remembered a lot more about the knife than she had.

“Not surprising, though.”

Missy frowned. “Why do you say that?”

The detective shrugged. “He did time. I figure he’s seen his fair share of blades.”

A strange whirring sound filled Missy’s ears. “What did you say?” Surely she must have heard the detective wrong.

“Hey, you okay?” He touched her shoulder.

She sat back in the chair, thankful for the uncomfortable wooden back. It was the only thing keeping her from slumping to the floor. “Explain what you just said.”

Stark tugged at his jacket and rubbed his hand across his chin. “I figured you knew, you two being friends and all. MacNamara got five years back when he was eighteen. Didn’t serve them all. Good behavior and no previous record.”

T.S. had been in jail. He was no different from the men who attacked her. That’s not quite true, her conscience screamed. He’d protected her. “What did he do?”

The detective looked pained now, but he answered. “It’s public record. He drove the getaway car when his older brother knocked over a liquor store. The clerk was shot in the robbery. A cop was shot trying to apprehend them. Luckily no one died.”

She had to get out of here. Missy stumbled to her feet. “I have to go.”

“Maybe you should sit here for a bit.” Worry filled his gaze, along with pity. She hated pity. As a child, she’d seen neighbors, well-meaning teachers and social workers stare at her with that look. They’d all known when her father was in jail. Sometimes for assault, other times for property damage or petty theft. She hated pity. She might have come from trash, but she’d bettered herself though hard work and perseverance. She was strong.

Missy straightened her shoulders. “I’m fine. Please let me know what happens with…” She gestured her hand toward the file on the desk. The attack was overshadowed by the enormity of T.S.’ deception.

“I will.”

She spun around and left, clutching her purse tight. The heels of her boots clicked along the tile floor, the rhythm getting faster and faster as she all but ran for the door. The man she was sleeping with, was in love with was an ex-con.

The one thing she’d promised herself when she’d left home was that she’d only get involved with men who were honest and forthright. Her father had spent time in prison. Both her brothers had done prison time for fighting and stealing by the time she’d left home. Missy wanted none of that in her life.

A sob broke from her throat as she stumbled to her car. Her hand shook so bad she dropped her keys twice before jamming the right one into the lock. When she was safe inside she swiped at the tears rolling down her cheeks. “You will not cry.”

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. Then another. And another until she was sure she wasn’t going to shed any more tears. “He’s not worth it.” Her father hadn’t been worth it. And neither were her brothers.

But T.S. was different, her heart cried. “Sex. That’s all it was. Sex.” She ignored the acute sense of betrayal and the ache in her heart. She rubbed her chest and bit her bottom lip, desperate to bottle up the emotions swirling inside her.

Her breathing was ragged but she kept on working at slowing it down. In and out. The windows of her car fogged as the cold of the day and the heat from her breath collided.

She blanked her mind, refusing to think about the past month. All the good times they’d shared. The laughter. The love. Because she did love him. That’s what made the betrayal all the worse. She’d finally lowered her guard enough to love a man and he turned out to be an ex-con, the one thing she’d sworn would never happen.

Minutes ticked by and she gradually gained control of wayward emotions. When she was calm enough, she started her car and headed toward Lucas’ building downtown. T.S. would be working there today and she wanted some answers.

T.S. was whistling under his breath as he installed the last tile and stepped away to admire his work. The bathroom was almost completed. The tub and shower combo were installed. The toilet and sink were in, the walls were plastered and painted. All that was left to be done was the grout, baseboards and trim. It looked good, if he did say so himself.

Justin usually helped him but today he’d called and said he wouldn’t be able to make it. He’d sounded tense, but T.S. hadn’t asked. Not his business until Justin wanted him to know. He’d enjoyed the solitude. He was usually with his crew, working on the latest project or seeing clients to line up future work. It was rare he got the opportunity to work alone these days.

He cleaned up the mess, putting his tools aside, before he glanced at his watch. It was a bit early but he might call it a day and see if he could talk Missy into doing the same. They could pick up something and take it back to her place to eat. Maybe a pizza. His stomach growled in agreement. Yeah, a pizza would definitely work.

He stood at the kitchen sink and scrubbed his hands while his thoughts wandered to Missy. He knew he was spending way too much time with her. Allowing her to become too important in his life. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself. She made him smile. She challenged him in every way possible and he found he liked that. She was smart and sassy and sexy as hell.

Just thinking about her made him hard. Hell, he’d walked around semi-erect for the past four weeks.

A sound behind him made him glance over his shoulder. As if his thoughts had summoned her, there she was. Tall and gorgeous in her high-heeled boots. Her dark brown winter coat brought out the color in her eyes and complemented her skin. He wanted to eat her up.

“Hey, babe. I wasn’t expecting you to show up here.”

“Don’t call me that.” Her harsh reply had him reaching for the towel and drying his hands. Tension radiated from her body and thin lines of stress stretched between her brows.

“What’s wrong?” He started toward her but stopped when she took a step back. If he didn’t know better he’d think she was afraid of him. This wasn’t right.

“What’s wrong?” she repeated. “What’s wrong? I went to the police station today and identified my second attacker.”

T.S. swore under his breath. Damn independent woman. “You should have told me. I’d have gone with you.”

She stared at him as though she didn’t believe a word he was saying. His concern was pushing way into the worried zone. “I wouldn’t think you’d like spending time with the police, considering your past.”

T.S. felt his insides freeze. She couldn’t have found out about his past. He never talked about it. To anyone. Only Lucas and his mother knew about those dark days. He’d cut all ties with his old neighborhood, plus it was old business. Ancient history. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think?” She crossed her arms over her chest. He recognized the defensive gesture for what it was and he braced for the worst. “I found out you’d been in prison. In prison! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He mimicked her pose, crossing his arms over his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed. A nerve beneath his right eye twitched. This was what you got when you opened yourself up. He knew better but he’d allowed it to happen anyway. “It wasn’t any of your business.” His voice was hard and cold.

Missy jerked back in surprise, but quickly collected herself. “How can you say that? We were sleeping together.”

Anger filled him and he lashed out. “Babe, we weren’t doing much sleeping.”

She flinched, but set her jaw in a familiar stubborn line. “No, we weren’t. But I made the erroneous assumption that there was more to our relationship than sex. My bad.”

He raked his hand through his hair. Shit, he hated feeling like the bad guy here. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “Look, it happened a long time ago. I don’t talk about it. With anyone.”

“Fine.” Missy turned and stalked toward the door.

“So that’s it. You’re just going to walk away.” His chest tightened with each step she took.

“You were the one who said it was nothing but sex. Well, I don’t sleep with ex-cons.” She laughed but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. “Scratch that, I guess I have. You’d get along great with my father and brothers. They’re ex-cons too.”

After dropping that bombshell, she left, her boots clicking against the wood floor.

“Fuck.” T.S. balled his hands into fists and thought about driving them through the wall. Thankfully he’d passed that kind of stupid years ago. It would hurt like hell and only mean more work for him in the long run.

He took a step toward the door and stopped. He wouldn’t go after her. He couldn’t. He knew it was pride keeping him from calling out to her, from begging her to stay, to talk this out. But sometimes that was all a man had.

He’d made a stupid fucking mistake as a kid. One step off the straight and narrow and it had messed up his life forever. His only true crime was in trusting his older brother and a girl he’d been smitten with. For that he’d paid. Big-time. He didn’t owe Missy or anyone else any explanations. He’d built a life for himself out of the ruins of his childhood. And he was happy with it.

He absently rubbed at his chest. It felt as though someone had reached into it and yanked his heart out. No, not just someone. Missy.

“Damn it.” He tossed pride away and stalked out of the apartment, hurrying down the stairs. But it was too late. By the time he burst through the door, Missy was long gone. He looked up and down the sidewalk but she was nowhere to be seen.

It was just as well. He wasn’t about to beg the woman to listen to him. She’d judged him without even asking to hear his side of the story. And he’d spent half his life being judged. Those days were over. He’d worked hard to gain the self-respect he had today.

He didn’t need such a closed-minded person in his life. She had such high standards and expected everyone else to live up to them. No one was that perfect.

An inner voice told him that wasn’t fair. Considering what she’d told him about her family, it was a wonder she hadn’t ended up like them. She’d made her code and lived by it, dragging herself out of the cycle of despair, much as he had.

They had more in common than she realized. Both of them, it appeared, were trying to forget a past that just wouldn’t stay buried.