Every Breath You Take (2 page)

A slim attractive raven-haired woman pushed through the crowd of children and scowled at the youngsters Lexie had corralled.

“Samantha Lynn and Donald Grant! You two come here
this
minute.” Turning to Lexie, the exasperated mother shook her head. “I apologize for my children, Alexis. I swear, they are getting worse by the day.”

Lexie winked at her but answered in a firm voice for the benefit of Sammie and Donny. “Yes, it is important for all martial arts students to be polite. Those of you who have brothers and sisters get a special opportunity to practice courtesy.” She gave the Roberts children a little shove. “Now run along you two. And remember, practice, practice.”

Cynthia Roberts shook her head. “I’m sorry, Alexis. I don’t know what has come over Samantha. She gets snottier by the day and takes most of her bad temper out on her brother.”

Lexie motioned the beautiful woman over to stand by the door to the hallway. “She’s thirteen, Cynthia. It comes with the package. Not an easy time to be a young woman. But it is important for her to be respectful in the dojo. I’ll work closely with her next week. She and I have always had a special bond. I’ll see if I can break through her antagonism.”

“Would you? Thank you, Alexis. She admires you so. And of course now that you are virtually as famous as a movie star, you have gone up in her estimation. Goodness, you even top Demi Lovato or Beyoncé.”

Lexie laughed, a luscious peal. “I guess that is a compliment although given I can’t sing a note I’d prefer that she compare me to Fang Qinniang, the most illustrious female Kung Fu master.”

Cynthia managed a smile. “No, believe me, being compared to Beyoncé is the highest compliment she could give you. Are we still on for our meeting tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. I appreciate your willingness to introduce me to some of the women who support the Patterson Foundation. Many of them have made contributions to my Strong Women Survive Center. It will be a privilege to present our program at your monthly meeting.”

“Oh my goodness yes, Alexis. You truly are a star. Even my friends who’ve never cared about abused women are dying to meet you. AND they all want their picture taken with you.”

Cynthia smirked. “Alexis, I hate to admit it because they
are
my friends. But publicity is more important to them than the cause they throw their money at—or their husband’s money. Being associated with someone who is front page news is a sure way to get them to open their checkbooks.”

Lexie shook her head and gave a rueful smile. “Whatever it takes, Cynthia. We need the support of every woman
and
man who cares about the hideous things that are happening to young women virtually before our eyes.”

Lexie watched the woman capture her children and head out to the parking lot. Decked out in her exercise bra and
gi
pants, Lexie couldn’t help feeling at a disadvantage compared to Cynthia Roberts. The stylish woman was wearing designer jeans and a Versace sweater that must have cost in the four figures. Lexie mused to herself. If Cynthia Roberts and her foundation buddies would cough up a miniscule portion of their annual wardrobe budget, Lexie would have her picture taken with every damn one of them and smile while she did it.

The ache in her shoulders reminded her that she’d taught six classes today and been interviewed by a national women’s rights organization who wanted her to keynote their national convention. The thought of a hot bath and a quiet dinner with Jake restored her spirits. At that moment Jake met her in the hallway outside of Master Wan’s office. Seeing the tall dark-haired man with the piercing blue eyes coming toward her shot a wave of heady sensation through her weary body. She grinned. So much for being tired. Her leap of excitement died at the clouded expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, Jake? You look as though you think you might not get lucky with me tonight. Just so you know, Big Guy, as long as you allow me an hour to soak my tired body in mounds of bubbles and hot water, I’m up for anything your sexy body can offer.”

When Jake just gave her a pained smile, Lexie’s heart hammered against her chest. The business they were both in was a dangerous one—one that often brought bad news. The expression on Jake’s face confirmed that he had sad tidings indeed.

His southern drawl was soft, pained.

“Ah, Darlin’, if only I could hop in that bathtub with you and then make love to you long into the night. But Lexie, I have bad news.”

He reached for her hand and pulled her up next to him. Holding her close he led her into Master Wan’s office.

Lexie’s heart began to pound in earnest when she saw the somber men seated around the conference table. The most frightening thing about their expressions was that every one of them was looking at her with pity.

Chapter 2

“Sit down, Darlin’.”

Lexie clutched at Jake’s hand and stared up at him. The troubled expression on his face was more frightening than comforting.

“What, Jake? What is it?”

He huffed a deep audible sigh and pulled out a chair next to his and seated her. He yanked his chair up close to hers and sat down. Pressing his knee against hers, he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Lexie, we have terrible news.”

Jake unfolded a wrinkled sheet of paper and handed it to her. Lexie frowned barely able to make out the shadowed faces of three young girls. At first she didn’t understand, but then a fierce claw captured her breath. Realizing that the photographs were a grainy reproduction from the video that she had produced for the City Council meeting, her heart pounded wildly against the wall of her chest. She was sure every man at the table could hear it.

“The girls? Something happened to them?”

“Yeah, Darlin’. They were killed. Murdered.”

Lexie struggled to breathe. She clutched Jake’s hand and looked up at him, begging him to say no but knowing what his answer would be.

“All of them? All three of them?”

Jake nodded. His eyes were dark with a mix of anger and pain.

Although she didn’t want to know, she had to ask.

“H-how? How were they killed?”

“Honey, this is the hardest part. It’s bad enough that they were killed, murdered. But the bastards who did it tortured them—all three of them—before they died.”

Barely feeling Jake’s strong arm around her, Lexie fought to swallow the bile surging up in her throat. For a moment, she thought she would vomit. Or faint. If she couldn’t get her breath, she might.

As if from the end of a tunnel she heard Jake’s voice.

“Breathe, Lexie. Take a deep breath. That’s right, Darlin’. Like that. Here honey, take a sip of water.”

Shoving at the glass of water Jake held out to her, Lexie closed her eyes and took several deep anguished breaths. Looking up she met Brady’s gaze. His eyes were filled with pity. Seeing the same expression on Peter’s face she latched onto Master Wan’s face. She prayed that somehow he’d refute the terrible news, but his somber gaze cut through her like a knife. Dan Rourke’s face was as pained as the others.

She didn’t recognize her voice when she spoke. It was tiny, shaky.

“Are you sure it’s them?”

Dan Rourke answered. “Yes we are, Lexie. My officers in the District found them this morning. I… we had some of their DNA from when they were arrested last. I’m sorry as hell but they are ‘our’ girls.”

Lexie stared for a long moment at the big man, one of the toughest men on the SFPD and one of the kindest. Of all the police that she had worked with, Dan was as outraged as she was about the blatant crimes happening virtually in full view of the city governing structure, including the police. The red rims around his eyes spoke more loudly than anything he could say.

She found enough spit in her mouth to speak.

“Where are they?”

Jake’s arm tightened around her shoulder.

“They’re at the morgue, Lexie.”

Lexie swallowed as best she could then hoisted herself up and tried to stand. She clutched the edge of the table as a wave of dizziness swamped her. Jake’s big arms encircled her and gently pulled her back down into her chair.

“Lexie, sit down. Here, honey. Drink some water. You’ve had a terrible shock.”

Lexie shook her head and shoved Jake’s arm away.

Lexie squeezed her eyes shut. If she could have she would have put her hands over her ears, like a child trying to shut out the words she didn’t want to hear. She turned to Dan once more begging him with her eyes to deny what had happened.

“Dan, are… are… you sure? Are you positive that it is Mee-Yon, and Bong-Cha, and Sun-Hi?”

The long-term hardened policeman’s voice cracked. “I’m sure, Lexie. And, honey, I’m sorry as hell.”

Jake put the glass of water in her hand and pressed her fingers against it then gently eased her back into her chair.

“Take a drink, Lexie. It’ll help.”

Lexie sipped on the water. But she couldn’t swallow. The golf ball sized lump in her throat was too big. Just saying the girls names brought their faces back to her. She remembered when she and Dewa videotaped their stories. Their soft, frightened voices. The pain on their faces. The bruises and scars on their bodies. The hideous tales they told in matter of fact sing-song voices. They wouldn’t look at the camera. They’d only look at
her
, because they trusted her.

A fresh rush of anguish flooded her. Dear God, what had she done? Because of her they were dead, tortured to death. All because she wanted to show the world what was happening. To make the City Council, the Mayor, the people of San Francisco understand what was taking place before their eyes. What they were condoning and allowing. She dug her fingernails in Jake’s arm needing to hold on to something or she would fall. While it would be easy to blame the awful men who had exploited the girls and killed them, ultimately it was her fault. She was to blame. The young damaged girls had trusted her.

And then she came up against the hard wall of her grief. She couldn’t deny what she had done. She allowed herself to admit it. Admit that in order to make her point, to get enough attention in the press, to make a big enough splash, she also had exploited these young girls. She had used them as blatantly as the cruel industry that sold their young bodies to as many as a dozen men a day.

Her head felt too heavy to hold up. She put her arms on the table and rested her forehead between her hands. Jake rubbed the back of her neck, murmuring softly.

“It’s okay, Darlin’. It’s okay. Just keep taking deep breaths.”

“I killed them. It’s my fault.” She whispered the words, but they sounded like clanging bells, like sirens wailing out the hideous truth. She was as responsible for their deaths as the men who killed them.

All the men spoke at once. They disagreed, insisted that she was wrong. But she knew better. Her need to be heard, to insist that the world accept responsibility for what they were doing, had killed Mee-Yon, and Bong-Cha, and Sun-Hi.

“No, stop! All of you!” Glancing up at them, her anger flared. They knew but pretended that they didn’t. Underneath their pitying expressions, they knew she was responsible. “You don’t understand. You’re wrong. I needed them. I needed them to show the world what was happening. I
used
them, goddammit! Don’t you get it? They were like pitiful animals in the zoo that were being abused. I put them on display. I used them to get the zoo keepers to clean up their cages.”

Lexie’s chest tightened more. Getting a breath took a conscious effort. She didn’t know how much longer she could talk. Remembering was painful enough. She forced herself to continue. To accept her responsibility. She glared from one to the other of the men. She needed to make them understand.

“You don’t get it do you?” Her voice was harsh. “They didn’t want to talk. They were afraid. But I
convinced
them. Because I needed them. I needed to put on a good show
. I
couldn’t tell their story—not nearly as well as they could. No, a white woman who has everything couldn’t possibly tell their story as poignantly as they could. They were so much more real, so pitiful, so visceral. They made such… good television.” Her voice trailed off, caught in a sob.

Jake sounded like he was on the verge of tears himself.

“Lexie, honey. Don’t do this.”

He tightened his grip on her knee. He rubbed her neck with his other hand. His voice was soft, gentle. But she didn’t want his condolences. She didn’t want to hear her friends try to reassure her, deny that she was responsible. Slowly her anguish turned to rage.

Lexie rose to her feet and shoved Jake’s hands away. She glared from one to the other of the men. Their concern only made it worse. The truth bubbled up in her throat. She choked back the bile that threatened to strangle her. They knew. Their pity was clear.

“You know I’m right. I insisted that the camera catch their faces so that the
audience
would see how young they were. If I hadn’t insisted on them talking to me, they wouldn’t have been killed.”

They were all frowning at her but she didn’t care. She didn’t want their concern, their pity. It just made it worse. She shoved back her chair and moved away from the table. Once again they were trying to protect her, shelter her. Just like Jake always did.

“I’m going. To the morgue. I’m going to see all the young women that I killed. That I killed as surely as those awful men.”

Brady gasped. “Jesus, hotstuff. Don’t even think about it.”

Lexie heard the concern in his voice and forced herself to look at him. Except for Jake, Brady was her best friend, the person who could always make her laugh, who knew what she was thinking, and was always there for her when she and Jake were tussling. But today he seemed like a stranger. How could he not understand how she felt?

Peter compounded her dismay.

“Alexis, this is a terrible thing that has happened. The men who killed these young girls are monsters. They wanted to send you, send us, a message. They wanted you to know what they are capable of. And Alexis, they are capable of horrendous atrocities. You already know that, seeing them isn’t necessary.”