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A Summer in Sonoma. Робин КаррЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Summer in Sonoma - Робин Карр


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about it, yeah. Thing is, I’ve run rape kits on victims for detectives, and even when they’re banged up, torn apart and hysterical, the police can hardly make a case. What am I going to say? A guy I accepted a date with—who I let kiss me in the parking lot and again in the car—held me down while he kissed me? He never hit me, never got to my clothes, never unbuttoned his pants…The fact that we both knew what he was going to do will be completely irrelevant.”

      “But you’ve got that guy—”

      “Yeah, Walt. He called it assault. It was an assault, but it only got as far as an attempt.” She shrugged. “Although it still scared me half to death.”

      They heard the sound of the garage door opening and Julie threw an unmistakable look of disgust over her shoulder toward the door. Billy came in, wearing his jeans and T-shirt covered with sawdust, putting his tool belt on the washer in the laundry room, which connected the garage to the kitchen. He looked pretty wiped.

      “You’re early,” Julie said.

      “I finished up. I could’ve found a little more to do, but I thought maybe you could use some help.”

      She laughed. “And what the hell kind of help were you going to give me after the kids are already in bed?”

      “Jesus, I don’t know, Jules—want me to paint the house or sand the floors?”

      Cassie put her fingers against her temples and rubbed. “God. Do you two have to do this right now?”

      “You’re a witness, Cass. You can see all I did was walk in the goddamn door!”

      “After nine at night, to help!” Julie said.

      “Okay, I’m going home to Steve,” Cassie said, starting to get up.

      “No,” Julie said, grabbing her hand. “No, you’re absolutely right. We’ll stop. Besides, you need to tell Billy what happened.”

      “Why?” she said wearily, sinking into her place on the couch.

      “Because the guy said he was a paramedic, Cassie,” Julie said.

      “Who said he was a paramedic?” Billy asked. He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and brought it into the family room. He sat down on the coffee table and faced Cassie. “Something wrong?”

      Cassie went through the story again. Billy leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, holding his beer with both hands, and several times he just looked at the floor. He ignored his beer till the end of the story. Then he took a long drink out of the can.

      “The only thing I’d really like to know,” Cassie added, “and there’s no way to find out, not even by going to the police, is if he’s attacked other women. I don’t know if I drew the wild card or if he’s a chronically dangerous guy.”

      “Maybe you can’t find that out, but we can check if he’s a paramedic,” Billy said, getting to his feet. “If he’s even with the fire department. I’ll tell you what, if he’s a firefighter and he’s doing this to women, he’s going to be sorry.”

      “I have a feeling if you make him sorry, I could pay the price.”

      “But, Cass, I gotta know. We have some bad apples sometimes, but I never heard anything like that before.”

      “It’s not like you introduced us,” she said. “It has nothing to do with you.”

      “I feel like it has everything to do with me. I don’t love everyone in the department, but it kills me to think one of our boys would do something like that to a woman. Kills me. I’m going to find out right away.”

      Billy insisted on following Cassie home—the whole two miles—and coming inside with her to be sure everything was secure. While Billy busied himself doing the man thing of checking windows, locks, et cetera, Cassie was on her knees loving on Steve, kissing and being kissed. It’s not as though she’d been gone long; she’d had the day off and had only left him a few hours ago for a date that should have worked out, should’ve been late and fun. It was just after ten-thirty and Steve had been fine, curled up on the couch on his special blanket with several of his babies—small stuffed toys that he carried around with him like a cat carries kittens.

      When Billy was getting ready to leave he asked, “How are you feeling, Cass?”

      “A little edgy, but mostly disappointed. Very disappointed.”

      “Are you scared?”

      “I admit, I’m a little shook up, but the whole incident was over in five minutes or less. And I have good locks, a phone with a backup cell phone and we know Steve’s a killer. Really, I’m so disappointed with the way things turn out most of the time. You and Jules—I know you’ve been fighting lately, but you just don’t know how rotten it is to be looking, waiting, hoping to find the right person…”

      “Lotta people love you, Cassie.”

      She smiled. “Thanks,” she said. Not exactly the kind of love she was hoping for, but nice.

      He shook his head and looked away. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on with Jules,” he said. “I can’t do anything right. I have no idea what’s eating her.”

      Cassie had some ideas. Three kids, tight budget, hard work, absent husband. But it wasn’t her place to get into their squabbles. They’d work them out, as always. “Maybe you should ask her” was all she said.

      “You think I don’t ask? I shoulda just gone to the frickin’ bar tonight, had my one beer of the day there. Never mind—I don’t mean to unload on you tonight. Listen, I’m home if you need me. If you have any problems, call me. I can get here in two minutes.”

      “How much sleep have you had?” she asked.

      “I got in eight,” he said.

      “Eight hours after twenty-four on the job? If I have any trouble, I’ll call the police,” she said.

      “Fine, do that. Then your next call is to me.” And then he grabbed her shoulders gently and put a brotherly kiss on her forehead. Steve looked up at him, wagged his cropped tail wildly and whined. “I am not kissing you!” Billy said to the dog.

      “Aw. He needs a kiss,” Cassie said. “He knows his mommy’s upset about something and he needs a little reassurance. It wouldn’t kill you.”

      “No. I don’t kiss dogs or boys or boy dogs. You try to trick me into this all the time.”

      “Steve doesn’t ask for much,” Cassie said. “He has no male role model except you. He adores you, can’t you see that? How can you be so ridiculous about it? Just a little peck on the head—that’s all it will take to make him happy. I mean, come on, it’s Steve! He’s like a son to you! Or at least a nephew!”

      Billy, hands in his pockets, bent at the waist and kissed the gray top of Steve’s bony head. And Steve, contented, sat for him and put up a paw to shake.

      “You kiss boy dogs,” Cassie said with a laugh.

      “Jerk. Lock me out. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all.”

      And he was gone. Cassie looked at Steve and said, “Good job. Humble him every chance you get.”

      Cassie changed into summer sweats and searched for something on TV. Steve curled up beside her to watch an old movie. He had the bunny, the frog and the octopus curled up with him. The movie wasn’t sad—it was a comedy—but within fifteen minutes, tears began to run down her cheeks.

      She had a job she loved, great friends who’d been close for many years, two families—Julie’s and Frank and three half sibs. She was independent, completely self-supporting…and lonely. So very lonely at times.

      At the end of the day, it was always like this—Cassie and Steve on the couch, just the two of them. She’d had very few relationships over


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