In Her Defense (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 2

  “Go ahead. She’s in room three.”

  “Thanks.”

  The floors at Harbor House were scuffed and the walls held the handprints of too many children. Jenny tried to make the shelter cheerful, with bright pictures on the walls and vases of flowers in every room, but A.J. shivered as the front door closed behind her.

  Misery clung to the walls of the house, and the air was permeated with the smells of disinfectant and despair. A.J. battled her urge to escape the pain as she headed up the stairs.

  Children’s voices floated up to her from the family room in the back of the house. They almost brought an air of normality to the atmosphere.

  Almost.

  No wonder Mindy didn’t want to come downstairs. The children would be a painful reminder of her own son, taken away from her and now in foster care.

  She knocked softly, not wanting to startle Mindy. There was absolute silence on the other side of the door. Finally, when she knocked again, a small voice said, “Who is it?”

  “It’s A. J. Ferguson, Mrs. Talbott. The victim’s advocate from the police station. We met last night.”

  The silence stretched too long before Mindy said, “What do you want?”

  “I need to talk to you. Do you want to talk in your room or come downstairs?”

  After a long pause, the door opened. Mindy Talbott’s blond hair was tangled around her face and flattened on one side, as if she hadn’t bothered to comb it after she got up. The left side of her face was swollen and mottled with bruises, and the white of her eye was shockingly red with blood. A line of stitches stretched from her lip to her chin.

  Shame, fear and grief filled the woman’s eyes.

  “Is it Jamie?” she whispered. “Is he all right?”

  “Jamie’s fine,” A.J. answered, making a mental note to check on the boy. “Your sister is on her way here to take care of him.”

  A.J. waited by the door as Mindy stared at her. One of the children on the first floor shouted up the stairs, and she shrunk into herself.

  “Is it all right if I come in?” A.J. asked quietly.

  Mindy nodded her head and moved away. A.J. slipped inside and closed the door behind her, muffling the noise from below.

  “What do you want?” Mindy asked.

  “Why don’t you sit down?” A.J. answered. She waited until the woman lowered herself carefully into the easy chair, then perched on the bed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  Mindy stared at her, a spark of hostility in her eyes. “I feel like I’m in prison. Like I’m being punished.”

  Thank God Mindy could at least feel angry. “Harbor House is a safe place to be,” A.J. answered. “Doak can’t hurt you here. He doesn’t even know where you are.”

  “You took my baby away.”

  “We had to,” A.J. said gently. “Doak had been abusing Jamie. And…”

  “And I let him. That’s what they told me last night.” Mindy’s forehead wrinkled as she stared at A.J. “But what could I do? Doak is stronger than I am. I couldn’t stop him.”

  Hot anger rose like lava inside A.J., overwhelming, consuming anger. Excuses. They all made excuses. She wanted to scream at Mindy that mothers were supposed to protect their children. Even if the abusers turned on them.

  Instead she gripped her hands together in her lap so hard that her fingernails cut into her palms. She couldn’t judge the woman in front of her. She knew the psychology of domestic abuse, knew how it destroyed the soul and crushed the spirit. She knew only too well what Mindy faced. Struggling to keep her voice calm, she said, “The police want to come and talk to you about Doak. Would that be all right?”

  The woman’s spark of anger disappeared, replaced by deep fear. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t. He told me he would kill me if I ever went to the police. I believe him. He’ll kill both me and Jamie.”

  “We’ll protect you, Mindy. We won’t let him hurt you. But we need to find him. And we need your help to do it.”

  “Who would I have to talk to?” A.J. drew an unsteady breath at this first sign of surrender and forced herself to go slowly. “One of the detectives who came to your house last night. Detectives McDougal and Donovan.”

  “The tall one?”

  “That’s McDougal.” No matter what their circumstances, women remembered Mac.

  Mindy twisted her hands in her lap, pleating the material of her slacks between shaking fingers. “Are you sure Doak doesn’t know where I am?”

  “Positive,” she answered. “The location of this house is a well-kept secret. There’s no way he could find out.”

  “Doak has ways of finding out anything he wants to find out.”

  “Not this.” A.J. held Mindy’s gaze until the woman looked away. “All right. I’ll talk to that detective.”

  “I’ll bring him by tomorrow. Is that all right?” A.J. was careful to give Mindy a choice. Victims of domestic abuse often had no choices in their lives.

  “I suppose.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Give Jamie back to me.”

  “I can’t do that right now. Soon, I hope.” After Mindy had taken a parenting class and entered therapy. And Doak Talbott was no longer a danger to either of them.

  “Then there’s nothing you can do for me.” A.J. stood up and moved to the chair, crouching in front of the woman. “I gave you my card with my phone numbers. Do you still have it?”

  Mindy nodded.

  “Call me anytime, even if you just want to talk. All right?” She waited for Mindy to nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” A.J. glanced at her watch. “Jenny will be serving dinner in a few minutes. You must be hungry.”

  Mindy shook her head. “I don’t want anything.” A.J. stood at the door, wishing she had a magic wand. She’d wave it over Mindy Talbott and make her whole again. She’d give her strength and self-esteem and a healed soul.

  She closed the door behind her. There was no such thing as a magic wand.

  She ought to know. She’d spent her childhood searching for one. And the only thing she’d found was pain, humiliation and guilt.

  CHAPTER TWO

  A BLAST OF HOT AIR greeted A.J. when she opened the door to her car. Shivering, she slid onto the seat, grateful for the warmth.

  She was always cold when she left the shelter. The hopelessness of the residents burrowed into her bones, consuming all the heat inside her.

  She wanted only to go home to her apartment, to fix dinner, have a glass of wine and unwind. But she had to go back to the office first. She’d forgotten a stack of case files she needed to work on tonight.

  The trees dotting the parking lot outside the police station cast grotesque shadows onto the pavement. Dusk was creeping in, sharpening the air and bringing the welcome bite of a breeze off Lake Michigan.

  She sighed as she got out of the car and hurried toward the lights of the building. Why hadn’t she remembered to take the files when she’d left earlier?

  She knew why. Mac McDougal. The man had rattled her, and she hated that she’d let him.

  A.J. burst through the door, her long strides carrying her past the large room that held the detectives’ desks. Normally an animated swirl of movement, ringing telephones and loud voices, tonight the bull pen was deserted except for Jake Donovan. He was hunched over his desk, telephone propped between shoulder and ear, scribbling on a pad of paper. He gave her a distracted wave as she hurried into her office. It took only a minute to scoop up the folders she’d left on her desk. Then, scanning her neat office, making sure everything was in its place, she stepped out and closed the door behind her.

  “Hey there, A.J.”

  Jake dropped the receiver back in its cradle, looped his hands behind his head and gave her a lazy grin. Her mouth curved in an answering smile. She’d always liked McDougal’s easygoing partner.

  It had helped that he was one of the few men on the force who hadn’t eyed her like a side of beef when she’d joined the department.

  Neither had McDougal. But Jake didn’t push her buttons. McDougal was a master at it.

  “Hey yourself, Jake. What are you doing here so late?”

  “Cleaning up after Mac. Trying to make him look good, as usual. I’m afraid it’s a lost cause.”

  “Then don’t stay too late. There’ll be plenty of work left for you to do tomorrow.”

  Jake laughed and leaned forward in his chair. “Did you get a chance to talk to Mindy Talbott?”

  “I just came from the shelter. I’ll take McDougal there tomorrow.”

  “Good job, A.J. Another win for the good guys.”

  “Not yet, I’m afraid. Do you have any ideas where Doak is hiding?”

  Jake’s smile vanished. “Not a one. The dirt ball is gone. Nobody’s heard from him.”

  “Maybe Mindy will have some ideas.”

  “You think so?”

  No, she didn’t. The woman was so traumatized she barely remembered her own name. “I hope so.”

  “Take it easy, A.J.,” Jake called as she left.

  “You, too, Jake,” she answered over her shoulder.

  The station door latched behind her with a solid click as she stepped into the cooling air of the evening. The shadows were longer now and the sky had darkened to royal blue. Tucking the folders under her arm, she headed toward her car in the deserted lot, fishing her keys out of her purse as she walked.

  Without warning, an arm slipped around her neck and yanked her back into the hard wall of a male body.

  Fear rolled in her stomach and bile rose in her throat. “No,” she gasped, struggling to get the word past the cruel tightness crushing her throat. This would not happen to her. She would not allow it.

  Folders scattered and her purse went flying a
s she struggled for leverage. But her moment of frozen panic had cost her. As she scrabbled to position herself to throw her attacker over her shoulder, his arm flexed cruelly, and she was lifted off the ground. She kicked back, aiming for his knee, but he squeezed her neck harder.

  “Bitch!” He growled into her ear, his breath hot on her neck. “You took them away from me.” Something stabbed into her side, burning like a hot poker. “You stole them. You stinking bitch!”

  “Wha-what are you talking about?” she managed to say, clawing at the arm around her neck. It was a steel band, unflinching and unmoving. Her vision began to gray.

  “You know what I’m talking about.” He pulled her toward the line of bushes around the building. “You sent the police to my house. My house. You got to that bitch Mindy and now you’re going to pay.”

  “Doak?” she asked. Ice-cold terror mushroomed inside her. She clawed again at his arm as he dragged her, and she realized her key chain was still looped over her wrist.

  She grabbed a key and stabbed it backward, aiming for his eyes. The sharp edge slid off the side of his face. Instead of disabling him, it made him howl with fury.

  “I’m going to kill you, bitch!” he panted. His other hand shifted in front of her, holding something that glittered in the streetlight.

  She struggled with her keys, searching for the remote opener. Finally she grasped it and managed to press every button.

  The sound of a car horn ripped through the silence, short blasts repeated over and over. Thank God for panic buttons.

  “Give me that.” He reached for the keys, but A.J. drew her arm back and threw them as far as she could. The alarm continued its relentless warning.

  Talbott’s arm tightened even more, cutting the trickle of air to almost nothing. A.J. kicked out again. She would not lose control.

  Far away a car door slammed, and she felt Talbott’s attention shift. “I’ll be back, bitch. This isn’t over. And next time I’ll finish what we started.”

  Talbott pushed her from him, and A.J. staggered, falling onto the asphalt. Footsteps pounded on the pavement, coming closer. She rolled onto her stomach, gulping air. She tried to stand up, but her legs refused to hold her. The pavement was warm beneath her cheek and she pressed closer, trying to banish the cold that penetrated to her bones.

  “Ferguson?” A voice spoke above her, and a hand touched her arm. She flinched away, fear rushing through her.

  “It’s okay, A.J. It’s Mac.” She felt him crouching next to her. “What the hell happened?”

  Mac McDougal. She struggled to sit up, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He leaned closer and his scent swirled around her, a mix of soap, sweat and evening air. He skimmed a hand over her side, his fingers lingering for a long moment, and he said, “Lie still.”

  He ordered over his shoulder, “Call an ambulance.”

  “Already done,” another voice, Jake’s, answered.

  “No ambulance,” she whispered. “I’m okay.”

  “Shut up.” Mac’s shadow blocked out the light. “Just hold still.”

  “I’m okay,” she insisted, struggling to roll over so she could get to her feet.

  “No, you’re not.” A gentle hand brushed her hair away from her face. “But you’re going to be fine.”

  Mac’s eyes were calm and reassuring, and suddenly she wanted to reach out and grab hold of him. Her fingers brushed his arm, then quickly pulled back.

  “D-did Talbott get away?” she asked, her teeth beginning to chatter with the cold.

  “Doak Talbott did this?” Rage darkened the blue of Mac’s eyes until they looked black.

  “I— I think so. He s-said something about M-Mindy.” Convulsive shivers wracked her body, and she couldn’t stop the chattering.

  “Get a blanket. Then call patrol,” Mac ordered, and someone murmured into a radio. “Arrogant bastard. Attacking you here. We’ll find him.”

  The wail of an ambulance siren grew steadily louder, and A.J. tried to sit up. She didn’t want to go to the hospital.

  “Don’t move.” Mac held her down. His hand was gentle but unyielding. “Every time you try to get up you bleed.”

  “I’m bleeding?” she asked. She touched her throat. It burned and throbbed, but she couldn’t feel any blood.

  “You’ve got a cut in your side. Did he have a knife?”

  “He cut me?” she asked, feeling slow and stupid. Her brain wasn’t working right.

  Mac’s face softened as he looked down at her. “Just lie still, A.J. The medics are almost here.” He tucked something warm around her, something that smelled like Mac. A sweater.

  “I don’t need an ambulance.” She tried to push the sweater away, but her hands wouldn’t cooperate.

  “Don’t you ever give up? You’re lying in a pool of blood and you’re still giving orders.” But his eyes were soft. Understanding. “Has anyone ever figured out a way to make you shut up?”

  Her belly fluttered, and it had nothing to do with Talbott’s attack on her. She saw comfort in Mac’s gaze, and strength. And an intensity that stirred a response deep inside her. She couldn’t look away.

  The ambulance stopped beside them, and two paramedics jumped out. One grabbed a pair of bags and the other hurried over to her.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “She was attacked. Looks like a knife wound in her side,” Mac said, glancing up at the paramedic. A.J. felt abandoned without his eyes on hers, and the feeling frightened her. She struggled to sit up, shrugging Mac’s hand off her shoulder.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just a scratch.”

  “Ignore her,” Mac ordered. “She’s in shock.”

  “I am not in shock!”

  The paramedic knelt next to her. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “A.J. A. J. Ferguson.”

  “Tell me what happened, A.J.”

  “He grabbed me from behind. Around my neck.” Her voice wobbled as the horror of the attack washed over her again. “He said he was going to kill me.”

  “Did he have a knife?”

  She frowned, trying to force herself to remember. “I don’t know. Maybe. I remember seeing something bright.”

  The paramedic peeled back the sweater. “It looks like he stabbed you in the side,” he said. “We’re going to have to take you to St. James.”

  “No! I don’t need to go to the hospital.” She heard the panic in her voice and struggled to contain it. “It can’t be that bad. Just put a bandage on it.”

  “We can’t do that, A.J. Protocol. Anyone with a knife or gunshot wound has to go to the hospital. At the very least, you need some blood tests.”

  “Settle down, Ferguson,” Mac said. “Just get it over with.” A.J. could see the glint of humor in Mac’s eyes. “If you behave yourself, I’ll go with you to the hospital. I’ll even ride in the ambulance with you.”

  “Now there’s a treat I can’t resist,” she muttered. Mac laughed and sudden weariness flooded her. She couldn’t fight any longer. “Fine. Do what you want.”

  “My God. Check her for a head injury.” Mac’s voice, light and teasing, wrapped around her like a warm blanket. She wanted to reach out, to hold onto him for comfort.

  She kept her hands to herself.

  MAC STOPPED PACING when his partner came through the door of the E.R. waiting room. “Jake. What’s going on?”

  “Couple things.” He handed Mac a purse and a set of keys. “A.J.’s stuff. And I thought you’d want the update. We found a knife and the prints match Talbott’s. So it was definitely our buddy who went after A.J.”

  Anger, barely under control, flared again. “Damn it. I don’t suppose patrol found any sign of him.”

  “Nope. But they’re still looking. The captain okayed a stakeout on his house, in case he goes back there.”

  “He won’t.”

  “Probably not. But who knows? He could have an attack of the stupids.” Jake nodded toward the doors that led to the E.R. “How’s A.J.?”

  Mac scowled. “I have no idea. They won’t tell me a damn thing.”

  “It’s just a guess, but I’m thinking you might not have been Mr. Tact when you asked. Let me see what I can find out.”

  Fear cut into him as he watched Jake smile at the nurse at the desk. He’d backed down from the steely glitter of her eyes when he’d asked the last time. Because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.