Rescue - By Anita Shreve Page 0,14
must be painful for her, even through the jacket, which just about covered her butt. He never felt her breasts, felt hardly any skin at all. He wanted the act to mean something on this piece of land he coveted, but all he could feel was the contest of it.
When they were done, he pulled up her jeans for her, then did his own. In a minute, they would stand and run for the car. She leaned back and looked at him.
“Honest to God, Mr. Webster, that was the coldest fuck of my entire life.”
Attention, Hartstone Rescue. We need a crew on Hawk Ridge. Female, fifteen, reporting injuries from domestic assault.”
Webster reached for the radio. “You got any more on that?”
“Caller hung up. Attempts to call back, negative.”
“ETA on the PD?”
“They’re on another call.”
Burrows and Webster arrived at a converted barn in the only tony part of Hartstone. There they discovered a slim woman in her forties standing by the door and a sullen fifteen-year-old girl in jeans and a black T-shirt, sitting on the sofa.
“You get over here and apologize to these men,” the mother barked to the girl. “You tell them what you did.”
The girl was silent, which seemed to infuriate the mother even more. The mother, dressed in a suit as if she were on her way to work, stomped her foot. She walked to the sofa and physically tried to get the girl to stand up by pulling at her arm.
“That won’t be necessary,” Burrows interjected as he wedged his body between the two females and broke the armlock. “You go stand over there next to my partner,” he said to the mother.
When the mother was gone, Burrows stared down at the girl.
“What?” the girl finally said.
“You hurt?” he asked.
She had short cropped blond hair, a cheek piercing, and heavy purple eye makeup. She rolled her eyes with disdain, but shook her head no.
“Well, if she won’t tell you, then I will,” the mother, by Webster’s side, blurted. “She called nine-one-one and said that my fiancé, her future stepfather, had beaten and raped her. My God! Does she look beaten up to you? When she saw the ambulance pull in, she confessed to what she’d done. I’m beside myself.”
“Is there any truth to these allegations?” Webster asked the mother.
“Hell, no. She’s out of her mind. My fiancé, Vince, hasn’t been here since last night at supper, during which my daughter was so insulting and rude that Vince had to leave.”
Burrows said nothing to the mother, but again addressed the girl. “Did this man harm you in any way at all?”
“In any way? Yeah, doc. He’s ruined my life.”
“I’m not a doctor.”
“Whatever.”
“Did he touch you or hit you with something?”
“He might as well have.”
“Miss, I have to do a brief exam to determine if there are any injuries.”
“Thought you weren’t a doctor.”
“I’m a medic.”
“Poor you.”
Burrows got down on his haunches and tried to take her wrist to check her pulse.
“Don’t you fucking touch me!” she snarled, her face contorted into one of the uglier expressions in the teenage repertoire.
Webster joined Burrows, and they stood aside for a moment. Webster noted the open floor plan, the loft with the balcony, the kitchen with an outsized refrigerator. “What do you think?” he asked.
“I can’t examine her without her permission.”
“Obviously she called nine-one-one to piss her mother off,” Webster said.
Burrows turned. “Ma’am, what’s your name?”
“Natalie Krueger.”
“And your daughter’s name?”
“Charity.”
Webster resisted the impulse to raise an eyebrow. What mother in her right mind would call her daughter Charity in this day and age?
“Actually,” said the girl on the sofa, “it’s Pure Scum, which is what her boyfriend called me last night.”
“Ms. Krueger, where is Vince now?”
“He’s in Massachusetts, where he lives,” she said with smug satisfaction. “In Williamstown.”
“When did he leave?”
“I already told you. Last night. I’m sorry you had to get dragged into this. I’d have stopped it had I known sooner.”
Burrows tried to explain. “We can’t do anything right now unless your daughter gives her consent.”
“Which will be never,” Pure Scum said from the sofa.
“The police will arrive soon,” Burrows said to the girl. “You should be prepared for that. They’re going to have a lot more questions than we do.”
“Shit.”
“What the hell did you think was going to happen?” the mother cried.
Burrows leaned into Webster. “We could call the cops off. Kids do stupid stuff to drive their parents crazy all the time.”
“She’s accused a guy of assault and rape.”
“What’s your gut tell you?” Burrows asked.
“Hoax. To drive