A Special Relationship (30 page)

 
“What’s happened?”

 
“He said this Carrie was apparently assaulted tonight and—”

 
Robert’s eyes flew open and he slung the bed covers off of him.
 
“Assaulted?”

 
“Yes, sir.”

 
“Is she all right?”

 
“He said she’s okay but she won’t cooperate with them.
 
When they saw your name and number on a business card in her pocket, they decided you were the only hope they would have of getting to the bottom of this.
 
They need you to come downtown, sir.”

 
“Downtown?”

 
“To the police station, yes sir.
 
She refused medical treatment, insisting that she was fine, so they took her there.”

 
Robert closed his eyes again and squeezed his temple.
 
“All right, Gwen,” he said.
 
“Thank-you.”
 
And then he hung up the telephone.

TWENTY

Carrie was seated on a short, vinyl couch in the sergeant’s office when Robert arrived.
 
He was casually dressed in a pair of cream-colored pleated pants, brown dress shoes, and a green, ribbed-top sweater shirt that zipped up in the front, and a surge of pride shot through Carrie when she saw him.
 
The idea that somebody like Robert would leave his comfortable home and come and see about her still astounded her.
 
Now more so than ever, when everything about her life seemed in such disarray.

 
Robert tried not to stare at her when the officer escorted him into the small office, but it was too difficult.
 
She looked awful.
 
Her usually very neat hair was ruffled and her jaw appeared swollen and those green eyes he loved so much appeared, once again, terrified.
 
He wanted to run to her, shake her until she told him who did this to her, and then strangle that jerk within an inch of his life.
 
But he kept his calm and, instead, extended his hand to the sergeant seated on the edge of her desk.

 
“Mr. Kincaid?” she asked as she shook his hand.
 
She was a burly woman with a strong handshake.

 
“Yes.”

 
“I’m Sergeant O’Reilly, how are you?”

 
“Not so good,” he said as he looked over at Carrie.
 
“Hello, Carrie.”

 
“Hello.”

 
“We meet again.”

 
Carrie tried to smile but couldn’t.
 
“I guess so.”

 
“She finally gave us a name,” Sergeant O’Reilly said and Robert looked at her.

 
“She did?”

 
“Finally.
 
A Willie Charles Payton.”

 
“Willie Charles?”
 
Robert looked at Carrie.
 
“Willie Charles did this to you?”

 
Carrie nodded.

 
“That sonafa—”

 
“You know him?” the sergeant asked.

 
“Yes, I do.
 
Has he been picked up yet?”

 
“It’s happening as we speak.
 
We would have had him sooner if she would have spoken up sooner.
 
But I guess she didn’t trust us at first.”

 
Robert looked at Carrie.
 
He could only imagine the things Willie Charles tried to do to her.
 
He could only pray that he didn’t succeed.
 
“And she refused any medical treatment?”

 
“Yep.
 
She doesn’t want us to make such a fuss over her she said.”

 
Robert nodded.
 
He knew what she meant.
 
“Ready?” he asked her.
 
Carrie stood up quickly and walked over to him.
 
She wore a pair of red shorts, a Georgia Bulldogs sweatshirt, and a pair of tennis shoes.
 
Robert smiled.
 
“This is Gator country, you know,” he said and Carrie, for the first time all night, looked down at her shirt and then actually smiled too.

Robert’s SUV drove onto his horseshoe driveway and Carrie had to do a double-take when the SUV ground to a halt.
 
Was this his home, she wondered, as he stepped out of the truck to open the door for
her.
 
It was all brick and massive, a colonial home with thick white posts out front that made it look like a bank.
 
The idea that she knew the man that lived here was astounding to her.
 
But even more astounding was that he could live here alone.
 
This was a family home, not a bachelor’s pad.
 
Did this man have a family hidden inside there somewhere?

 
“This is yours?” she asked as he opened the door and helped her out.

 
“‘Fraid so.”

 
“Don’t say that.
 
It’s beautiful.”

 
“Thank-you.”

 
“You must have a big family.”

 
Robert hesitated then closed his car door.
 
“Just me,” he said.
 
“Come on.”

 
He found himself grabbing hold of Carrie’s hand as he walked her through the huge double doors into the opulent foyer that took Carrie’s breath away.
 
From the ceiling that was so high she had to lean back to look up, to the gold plated staircase that swirled its’ way around to the second level, she’d never seen any home more regal.
 
And Robert, it seemed to her, was totally unfazed that he lived in a palace as he escorted her up those stairs, down a hall, and into a bedroom almost as large as Popena’s entire apartment.
 
He still held her hand, which surprised her, as they stood in the middle of the room.

 
Robert looked down at her.
 
“You sure you’re all right?”

 
“Positive.
 
I feel fine.”

 
Robert, however, led her to the bed, sat down beside her, and lifted her chin.
 
He studied her jaw and then touched it with his thumb.
 
She winced.
 
“It hurt,” he said.

 
“No, it’s all right.”

 
“Don’t lie to me, Carrie.”

 
“It doesn’t hurt.
 
It’s just a little sore, that’s all.”

 
“What happened?”

 
“He just, you know how Willie Charles is, he just. . .”

 
“He just what?”

 
“He tried to come onto me and I fought back.”

 
“What did he do to you?”

 
“He hit me in the face—”

 
“With his fist?”

 
“Yes.”

 
Robert’s jaw tightened.
 
“Go on.”

 
“And he slammed me against the refrigerator.
 
But he only jumped on me like that after I cut him.”

 
“You cut him?
 
With what?”

 
“A piece of broken glass.”

 
“Good.”

 
Carrie smiled.
 
“You should have seen his face.
 
He was so angry.”

 
Robert nodded.
 
“Good.”
 
Then he looked at Carrie, placed his hand on her neck, and began massaging it.
 
“So you’re tough after all,” he said.

 
“In a situation like that you’d better know it.”
 
Carrie said this and exhaled.
 
The warmth of Robert’s hand on her neck was so comforting that she felt like closing her eyes.
 
So she did.

 
Robert looked at her.
 
Admired her.
 
“Carrie?” he said.

 
“Um?”

 
“Did
he
. . . Did Willie Charles do anything else to you?”

 
“Anything else?”

 
“Yes.”

 
Carrie was so absorbed in the feel of Robert’s hand that it took her a moment to understand what he meant.
 
Then she opened her eyes.
 
And looked into his.
 
They were so close she could hear him breathing.
 
“I’m sure that was his point,” she said, “but I got away.”

 
Robert nodded.
 
“Okay,” he said.
 
Then he removed his hand from her neck and tapped her lightly on her back.
 
“The bathroom’s right over there.
 
I want you to take you a bath, you’ll feel better.
 
You can get one of my shirts out of that closet and put it on.”
 
He stood up.
 
“I’ll see you in the morning.”

 
“Thank you for coming and getting me.
 
I didn’t even know the police had called you.”

 
“You’ll promise me something?”

 
Carrie hesitated.
 
“What?”

 
“Not to run away in the middle of the night.
 
To just rest and worry about all of this drama tomorrow.”

 
Carrie smiled.
 
Then nodded.
“Sounds like a good idea to me.”

 
Robert returned her smile and took his hand and ruffled her hair.
 
He stared deep into her eyes again before he left.

***