Running From Fate (49 page)

It was probably a very stupid thing to do, but she just couldn’t stand his greasy touch. 
The moment his lips touched hers and his tongue for
ced its way into her mouth, she
bit down
—
hard.
He yelled in pain and
jerked back
.
With a quick prayer for accuracy, she bent her knee and slammed her leg upward, hitting him in the crotch.
His voice went silent and he rolled away, hugging himself in agony.
Mira was up in a flash and pelting down the path as fast as her shaky legs could carry her.

James angrily paced the length of the foyer and cursed every stubborn, irrational woman who had ever been born.
He had heard Mira as soon as she passed by his room, but by the time he had shoved on some clothes and raced downstairs she was already gone.
It had been almost an hour and she still wasn’t back.

He heard
her steps on the path before
the front door open
ed
and stopped his pacing.
With his legs spread, he crossed his arms over his chest and faced forward, ready and
more than
willing to give
her
hell as soon as she
came
in.
When the door ope
ned, however, she didn’t walk
, she ran, and threw herself at him with such force that he stumbled back a step.

When she clung to his neck and started to cry his arms automatically lifted, folding her in a tight embrace.
Thoughts of anger were far from his mind as he put all his efforts into comforting her. 
It was several minutes before he realized that she was trying to say something and a few more before she calmed down enough
so
that he might be able to understand her.
With gentle hands he pushed her back and used his thumbs to gently wipe the moisture from her cheeks.

“What’s the matter,
love,” h
e crooned, he voice rough with worry.
“Take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

“I woke up early,” Mira said between hiccups, “and I decided to go for a run.”
When James’ eyes began to narrow she rushed on, determined to get it all out before he had his say.
“I was on the path behind the estate,” she continued in a slightly calmer voice.
“Everything was fine until I rounded the lake.
There was a man hiding among the trees, waiting for me.”
She paused and gulped audibly as the memory flooded back.
“I tried to get away, but he was too fast for me.”

“Son of a bitch!” James exploded.
“Did he hurt you?”
h
e asked with barely controlled violence.
The thought of anyone harming her turned his blood cold.
As gently, but swiftly as possible, he ran his hands over her, searching for any sign of
injury
.
When she winced at a light touch on her breast, he uttered a
foul word that would have caused
a sailor
to
blush.

“Did he rape you?”
h
e growled.

“No,” she choked out, intensely glad that the rage she sensed in him was not directed at her.
“I managed to get away before he could.
And,” she continued with quiet satisfaction
.
“
He won’t be able to walk comfortably for a
long
while.”

A
slightly feral
grin flashed across James’ face as he imagined the delicate woman in front of him taking down an attacker twice her size with a well-placed high kick.
He sobered quickly
though
when he remember
ed
the state she was in.
He would
be willing to
bet that things had been much clo
ser than she was letting on.  T
he thought of hunting
down
the bastard
who had done this
and administering his own
brand of
punishment was sounding better and better.
U
nfortunately
, he
was probably long gone.
There was something that he could do, however.

“Winston,” he called
, turning toward the dining room.
“Would you place a call to the police?
Tell them that it’s urgent.”

“I have already taken the liberty,” Winston replied
from his position by the staircase
.
“They should be here any moment.”
A smile of satisfaction momentarily illuminated his austere face when a knock sounded
and he went to answer it
.
“That will be them
.
”

They weren’t what she expected, Mira thought, as the unlikely pair walked inside.
One of them was a balding, middle aged man in a wrinkled uniform.
He looked like he enjoyed the donuts a little too much.
Him, Mira immediately dismissed.
Standing next to him was a fresh
faced brunette in pleated pants and a button down shirt.
She loo
ked to be no older than her mid-
twenties, but Mira had a feeling that she was the
real
brains of the team.

James also examined the strange duo, but he had an entirely different reaction.
The older man, he thought, looked a little disheveled, but experienced and competent.
He imagined that the woman was probably a budding psychologist brought along because it was a rape attempt.
His teachers had pushed him into seeing one when he fi
rst came to America because he
wasn’t
‘
adjusting’ and he had never met any good ones, but he would withhol
d judgment.
Mira was still a bit
shaky and she could probably do with the company of a woman
.

To his surprise, it was the woman who stepped forward and offered her hand.
“I’m Detective Montgomery,” she said in a well-modulated voice.
“And this,” she gestured to the man standing behind her, “is officer Hinson.”

“Detective,” James said with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“I’m older than I look,” she responded coolly.
“Now,” she turned to Mira and gentled her voice. “Why don’t we go somewhere more comfortable and you can tell me exactly what happened.”
Without another word, she turned and walked through an archway into the
formal
living room, obviously expecting everyone else to follow.

The room was not one of James’ favorite places.
He supposed that i
t was pretty enough with its delicate Queen Anne furniture and beautiful, but uninspired artwork, but he had always found it
to be
a bit cold.
He had inherited the room with the house and had left it alon
e because
he found it useful when he needed to impress certain business acquaintances.
He
, however,
preferred the warm comfort of his study.
He said a quick prayer that the furniture would hold him and
carefully lowered
himself
onto a
graceful
loveseat.  When Mira passed by her
pulled
her down next to him.  The officials could take the equally uncomfortable chairs
.

T
he detective finally settled herself and
put on what James would call the ‘counselor’ tone.  She spoke to Mira in a
tone of
voice most often reserved for a small, frightened child, directing her to begin the story ‘whenever she felt comfortable.’

Mira
, who
had initially been
glad to see the woman,
was starting revise her opinion.
Yes the experience had been scary, but
if there was one thing she couldn’t stand it was
being patronized.
So a
s quickly and succinctly as possible, she described the attack and the events that had led up to it.
She sighed with relief as she finished the retelling. 
She had expected to relive some of the fearful ex
perience but, surprisingly, she felt purged
, leaving her mind calm
and her body relaxed
.
Apparently, she thought as she glanced over, it hadn’t had the same effect on James.

When she had begun speaking, he had been leaning back with his arm around her shoulders and his hand gently rubbing her arm.
Now
,
he was sitting forward wit
h his elbows on his knees and
a deep
crease
had formed between
his brow
s
.

“What are you planning to do?” h
e demanded.
“I’m sure that Mira gave you a good enough description to get started finding this man.
Let me assure you,” he
added in a more placating tone.  “
I will do anything I can to help.”

“I appreciate that Mr. Kelly,” Detective Montgomery replied, “but right now we need Ms. Anders’ assistance.
Officer Hinson,” she said as she turned to Mira, “is a sketch artist.
If you feel up to it I’d like you to help him construct a likeness of the perpetrator.
His picture
might help us gain a lead.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” Mira assured her.
“But I can do better than a sketch.
I can tell you how to find him.”

“What?” t
hree people asked in
unison.

“How do you propose to do that,” Officer Hinson asked skeptically.
“Are you claiming to have some kind of psychic
talent?
”

“Of course not,” Mira replied.
“It didn’t come to me until you mentioned a picture.
I knew something was familiar about the man when I first saw him, but it took me till now to figure out what
it was
.”

“How do we find him then?” d
etective Montgomery asked.