Tonight You're Mine (16 page)

Abruptly the footsteps behind her picked up speed. She pulled the Mace from her pocket and began to run when a body crashed against hers, knocking the Mace from her hand, propelling her toward the wall of the archway, slamming her against the stone, knocking the air from her. Pain shot through her back and head. She flailed helplessly, kicking her booted feet until she was rewarded with a grunt of pain. For an instant she saw a thin face with beard stubble, one front tooth missing and one gold. The smell of mildew and stale sweat nearly smothered her before a strong, filthy hand slapped her face so hard her vision dimmed. The hand covered her mouth before she could manage even a weak scream.

He tore at her purse, oblivious to her small, pummeling fists, and she felt the strap give way. Then he slapped her again and ripped her blouse, then her bra. Memories of the long-ago rape overwhelmed her as he forced her body down. Panic seized her, a panic even stronger than she'd felt with Magaro and Zand because she'd been through this before and knew the agony that awaited. Strong hands closed around her throat.

Suddenly she heard the sound of an animal growl. Dear God, she thought wildly, did that come from
him
? Then she felt the weight of a third body on top of hers. The snarls continued. The man screamed and Nicole caught a glimpse of an animal face. A Doberman, huge white teeth bared before they sank into the man's arm. He shrieked again and let go of her throat.

Stunned, Nicole lay still while the struggle between man and dog raged, the man's knees and shoes digging into her as he fought to get to his feet, the dog holding fast to his arm, then grabbing his upper calf, growling steadily the whole time.

The man kicked out and the dog yelped. At last he clambered to his feet, cursing and still kicking. “Hold!” someone yelled. The Doberman, slavering, sat still for a moment while the man abandoned Nicole and ran down the River Walk. Another form moved toward the dog. Nicole was aware of movement, as if someone were stroking the dog, looking for injuries. “Go!” the voice commanded again, and the dog was off, the man shrieking up ahead as the barking black streak pursued him.

Nicole struggled to a sitting position, her body weak and shaking, her blouse and bra hanging open, her vision blurred. She tried to stand but collapsed. Strong arms closed on her shoulders, pressing her back into a sitting position. “No, no please,” she moaned, fighting weakly. But the big hands trapped hers. “You're safe now,” a deep male voice said.

She struggled to see, but her eyes wouldn't focus. “Who…”

She heard voices, people shouting, footsteps running her way. “You are all right,
chérie
.” The man slipped something around her neck. Cold metal touched the delicate bare skin between her breasts. She blinked. Her vision cleared for an instant and she looked into a man's burning hazel eyes. He kissed her on the forehead, rose, and vanished before anyone else reached her.

1

The next few hours were a blur for Nicole. People appeared from all directions, a man helped her to her feet, a woman buttoned her blazer over her bare breasts, someone drove her to the police station. Was there someone she wanted to call? they asked. Roger? she thought, and almost laughed in spite of her condition. Her mother? No, she'd been through too much lately. Carmen? Carmen had her own troubles with Bobby. No, she didn't want to call anyone.

Later all she remembered was bitter coffee, questions about who might want to hurt her, more questions about what the guy looked like, and finally a grilling about how much she'd had to drink and what she was doing down there. “You always dress that way to stroll the River Walk alone at night?” a beefy, particularly offensive officer named Erwin asked. Time spun backward for Nicole. It was fifteen years ago. “You always wear tight jeans and prowl the town at night?” this cop's clone had asked.

“I want DeSoto,” she said flatly.

Erwin looked at her with interest. “DeSoto?”

“Sergeant Raymond DeSoto.”

“You two special friends?”

Nicole gave him a glacial stare. “You said I could call someone. I want Sergeant DeSoto.”

“Well, I'm afraid he's not on duty, little lady. Got any other cop friends? Why don't you just talk to me?”

Nicole, battered, on the verge of tears, shaken to the core of her being, leaned toward Erwin and spoke softly. “If you don't call DeSoto, I'm going to scream down the walls of this place and claim you made sexual advances toward me.”

“Nobody would believe you,” Erwin said, his face puffing with anger although he didn't sound too sure of himself.

Nicole smiled challengingly. “Let's try it and see.” The man's eyes wavered. “Call DeSoto
now
.”

Fifteen years ago, another cop like Erwin had reduced her to sobbing humiliation. Now she wasn't about to let this lout demean her. I guess you
have
changed, she thought. Maybe the change was more drastic than she'd realized.

Twenty minutes later, Ray DeSoto approached her wearing jeans, a University of Texas sweatshirt, and a tan jacket. Erwin watched them closely, as if expecting them to throw themselves into each other's arms. Instead, Nicole raised an eyebrow. “Another night in paradise.”

“So I see,” Ray said, taking in her torn clothing, red cheeks, and the swelling under the eye. “What happened?”

“She got mugged wanderin' around on the River Walk,” Erwin intervened. “I got the notes here.”

“Thanks.” DeSoto took the notes but barely glanced at them. “Want to tell me what happened from the beginning?”

Nicole sketched in her dinner with Carmen, mentioning the scene between Roger and his girlfriend, knowing she was doing it to explain why she'd stayed so late and drunk so much more than usual. Then she told him about hearing the footsteps behind her and the attack.

“So he just pushed you down, ripped your clothes, roughed you up some, and ran off with your purse?”

“He didn't run off voluntarily—”

“She says he was attacked by a dog,” Erwin interrupted. He sounded as if he found this highly unlikely, but DeSoto's eyes met Nicole's.

“A Doberman?”

She nodded silently. “Hey, how'd you know what kind of dog?” Erwin asked.

“First thing that came to my mind,” Ray said easily. “Did the dog do much damage?”

“It grabbed his arm hard enough to pull the hand off my throat, then it got his right calf. He kicked the dog. There was…a pause while it recovered,” she said, skipping for now the part about the owner stopping the attack until he saw that the dog was all right before he ordered it to pursue.

“What did the guy look like?”

Nicole closed her eyes. “Wiry but very strong. Narrow face. One front tooth missing. The right front and…the left was gold. Long, dark, greasy hair.”

“Eyes?”

“I'm sorry, I'm blank. What really sticks out in my mind is how
filthy
he was. And his smell—it was like mildew.”

DeSoto looked up from his notes. “Mildew?”

“Yes. I know it sounds odd, but have you ever been in a dank, dirty bathroom and smelled the plastic shower curtain?”

“Can't say that I have,” Ray said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Smelled a shower curtain, that is.”

“Well, I don't make a habit of it, either.” Nicole felt her face coloring. She sounded foolish. “Anyway, he smelled like mildew,” she said stubbornly, “and really old perspiration. I'm sure he hadn't had a shower for days.”

“Approximately what age?”

“I don't know,” Nicole said tiredly. “Anywhere from early to late thirties.”

DeSoto frowned. “That type doesn't usually hang around the River Walk. Market Square, yes, but not River Walk.”

“Believe me, he was there.”

“What did he get from you?” Ray asked.

“My purse. In spite of the dog attack, he didn't drop it. People looked everywhere around the area for it, but no luck.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“So he's got money, credit cards, and keys.”

“Great,” Nicole groaned. “I can't drive my car or get in my house.”

“You don't have
any
extra keys?”

“No extra house keys. Extra car keys at the house.”

“Then it looks like I'll be driving you home. But first you're going to the hospital.”

“I don't need the hospital. Just a couple of aspirin.”

Ray looked at her sternly. “Have you taken a good look at yourself? He knocked your head against a concrete wall and then slapped the hell out of you. Your eye is swelling half-shut. You could have a concussion. You should have been taken to the hospital immediately.”

Nicole was too tired to argue although it was past midnight. However, she started to shake when the hospital examination began, remembering the last time she'd been brought in after an attack. Then she had lain on a table for what seemed hours, shivering and filthy until the humiliation of the rape-kit procedure had begun. She remembered her mother standing beside her, her face deathly white, her glacial blue eyes refusing to meet Nicole's. And she remembered feeling ashamed.

But this time was different. The examination was brief, the young doctor and nurse both jovial, trying to lift her spirits. Finally, after being poked and prodded and X-rayed, she was pronounced bruised but otherwise healthy, without a concussion, without so much as a cut or scrape. “You don't even have to worry about HIV,” the young doctor told her. “But I doubt if you're going to sleep very well tonight.” He put a pill in a small envelope. “This is Seconal. Don't take it until
immediately
before bed, but
do
take it. You need the sleep.”

“
Now
you can go home,” Ray said as she was released and trudged into the waiting room.

“Thank goodness Shelley is at Carmen's and I don't have class until early afternoon,” she told him when they reached the car. “But how will I get into the house? No keys, remember?”

Ray winked at her. “Don't spread it around, but I pick locks.”

“Thank goodness,” Nicole breathed. “I don't want to call a locksmith tonight.”

As they drove toward northern San Antonio, Ray said, “What did you think of Erwin?”

“I found him delightful,” Nicole returned hotly. “God, what a sexist! You know, I see guys running in mesh T-shirts and shorts that barely cover their behinds but no one thinks they're out to get raped.”

“That's true,” Ray said mildly.

“Look, I've been really depressed since Christmas. Last night I felt good. I felt young and I wanted to have fun so I
dressed
young. I had the audacity to wear tight jeans, so Erwin seems to think I got what I deserved. Hell, if I'd worn a dirndl skirt and combat boots, would he have had some sympathy for me?”

“Not if you'd bothered to brush your hair and put on lipstick.”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. “I'm sorry,” Nicole said, recovering. “I know I'm ranting. It's just that I've been through this before and guys like Erwin make me furious.”

“You should have been talking to a woman, but Erwin loves to pounce on these cases. It just makes his evening to embarrass some poor woman and make her feel guilty.”

“I pity his wife.”

“Don't. He's scared to death of her.”

Nicole laughed. A moment later Ray asked casually, “You ready to tell me the whole story now?”

She looked at his profile. “How did you know I wasn't being completely open earlier?”

“You seemed to be picking your words carefully. Feel like you can trust me?”

“Yes,” she said slowly. “I didn't just see the Doberman, Ray. Paul was there.”

Ray's hands tightened on the steering wheel. “
Dominic
attacked you?”

“
No
. The dog, Jordan, saved me. After it ran off the guy, Paul appeared. He said I was safe. He called me
chérie
and kissed me on the forehead.”

Ray frowned. “Nicole, you were scared to death, you'd received a hard blow to the head. Maybe you just saw someone who
looked
like Dominic—”

“He put this silver and turquoise cross around my neck,” she interrupted. “It was Paul's.”

Ray glanced sideways as she held out the cross on its silver chain. “Do you know how many silver and turquoise crosses there are in this area?”

She turned it over. “Not like this one. Paul's had wings engraved on the back, wings symbolic of spirituality and inspiration because of his musical genius. It also has the tiny initials R. V.—Raoul Vega. I know because I had Mr. Vega make the cross for Paul's twenty-ninth birthday.”

2

After Ray had gotten her back into the house, he checked both the first floor and the basement to make sure no one was hiding inside. Then he made her promise to cancel her credit cards, put a stop on her checks, and apply for a new driver's license and Social Security card the next day. Finally, after her many assurances that she wasn't afraid to stay alone, he left.

Nicole immediately went to the back door to let in Jesse. The dog, who wasn't used to staying out past eight, didn't run to her when she opened the door. “Asleep in his doghouse,” she muttered. She walked outside and looked in his little house. Empty. “Jesse?” she called. “Are you hiding?”

Then she saw it—the fence gate swinging open. Nicole rushed toward it and let out a cry when she saw the smashed padlock. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “Damn, damn,
damn
!” She ran through the open gate and out to the street. “Jesse?” she yelled. “Jesse!”

No high-pitched bark answered her. Without a car, she couldn't drive around looking for him. Instead, she walked two blocks in one direction and two in the other. Finally, exhausted by the evening, her legs trembling, she gave up and went home.

Inside, she flopped facedown on the couch. Jesse had escaped once before and returned unharmed, but luck didn't seem to be with her tonight, especially since the padlock was smashed. She didn't think any of the local kids would do that. Had the creep in the wolf mask come back and taken out his sick fantasies on a defenseless little dog? “Oh, please,
no
,” Nicole moaned. “Please not that.” If anything happened to Jesse, Shelley would be devastated. First her father, then her grandfather, then her beloved dog. All gone. Nicole's eyes filled with tears. “
Why
did I go out tonight?” she asked the walls, pounding her fists on the ugly couch Roger had bought and left behind as a reminder of himself and his lies. “Why
tonight
?”

She fumbled in her pocket until she found the envelope containing a red Seconal, knowing that taking it was the only way she would get any sleep. And tomorrow was a full day. She had to get back her car, have the locks changed, teach two classes, and worst of all, tell Shelley her dog was missing if he hadn't returned by the time school was dismissed.

She took a long shower, then looked at herself in the mirror. Red marks circled her throat where hands had clutched, and her eye was swelling. She didn't feel comfortable about Shelley being at Carmen's with Bobby, whom she no longer trusted. At the same time, she was glad Shelley wasn't here to see her in this condition.

Nicole slipped on panties and a filmy nightgown that wouldn't rub harshly against her sore body, tossed her blouse and bra in a trash can in the garage, went back inside to the kitchen, wrapped an ice cube in a washcloth, and peeked out the window. A patrol car was parked down the street. She managed a smile. She knew when she'd told Ray she wasn't afraid to be alone, he'd given in too easily. He'd sent someone to watch the house, and she was glad. The bum on the River Walk had taken her keys. There was no way she could lock him out.

She poured a glass of milk and downed the Seconal. Back in her bedroom, she turned on the bedside lamp, made sure the blind was pulled down, piled pillows behind her head, and lay back, holding the cold washcloth against her swollen eye. Drowsy already, she picked up the cross that lay on the bedside table. It was slender, the carving delicate, the piece of turquoise small and beautifully mounted, hanging from a gleaming twenty-inch chain. She turned it over. There were the wings, exquisitely engraved by Raoul Vega, a master of his craft.

She'd been so proud of herself for thinking of the special touch, and Paul had been impressed with her creativity. “This is a bond between us,” he'd said. “One or the other of us will wear it all the time.” And yet, after the car wreck fourteen years ago that had supposedly claimed Paul's life, she'd never heard of a silver cross found on the body or with the effects belonging to Paul.