Drained (Edgars Family #6) - Suzanne Ferrell Page 0,93
others left. Jaylon was impressed with his partner’s ability to put together a team and convince their commander and the police chief to let him keep it. Totally off protocol and regulations. But he guessed the circumstances dictated they needed all the help they could get on this one.
“Any chance this human witness can help us narrow down the search for our killer or the missing homeless man?” the captain asked Aaron.
“Paula has been quite ill, Captain,” he answered.
“And grieving for the loss of her friend,” Brianna added, this time not so rushed.
“We haven’t wanted to push her too much,” Aaron continued, although he did shoot a soft look the tall blonde’s way.
Captain Stedaman stared at Aaron with one brow raised. “I think it’s time someone pushed her, detective. Today. Before the city gets overrun with dead bodies.”
Alone in the house, Katie and Paula sat at the kitchen table sharing a chopped green salad with grilled chicken and strawberries in it. After witnessing the younger woman’s frustration last night in trying to remember the man she’d seen speaking with her friend Art, Katie and Matt discussed using a new technique Jake had taught her to help eye-witnesses remember more details about an event or suspect. One of the reasons her husband went into the homicide division with Kirk F was to give her quiet time to walk Paula through the process.
Paula’s healthy recovery was the most important thing right now, so she’d given her the morning breathing treatment, her medications and time to rest afterward. A firm believer that protein and a stable glucose level helped anyone’s brain function adequately, Katie planned to begin the interview after lunch, over tea and a dessert of homemade chocolate brownies Kirk F’s nana had sent over this morning—Katie had never met the woman, but dearly loved her already.
First thing she wanted to do was establish a mutual respect and trust with her.
“Where did you meet Brianna?” she asked, reaching for her glass of tea.
Paula swallowed her food and wiped her mouth with the paper napkin before answering. “At the women’s shelter.”
“Were you a volunteer there?”
Paula’s features grew taut, here eyes wary. “No. I was a resident there when we met.”
“Good for you. Getting out of an abusive relationship is never easy.”
Paula pushed her food away, a spark in her eyes.
Finally, the young woman was angry. Good. They wouldn’t be able to get to her true memories if she was trying to hide her feelings.
“Don’t pretend you know what I’ve been through, lady,” she bit out, barely containing her anger and contempt. “You with your perfect husband and career. You have no idea.”
“Trust me I do,” Katie said, barely above a whisper.
“No. I don’t think you do. Did your mother turn you into a whore before your twelfth birthday? Did she give you pot and cocaine to ease your pain and humiliation? Did she sell you to the neighborhood pimp, who used his fists to convince you to do what he said, no matter how depraved?”
And there it was. The place where Katie could connect with her.
“When I was a kid, my father died, and my mother remarried. The man she married was the leader of a cult he called The Family and he eventually became known to the world as The Prophet.”
Paula’s brows drew down in a puzzled V. “I’ve heard of him. Wasn’t he responsible for that bombing in Pennsylvania like fifteen years ago?”
“Yes, he was. I was the chief witness who put him on death row and spent the next ten years in witness protection.”
She set her napkin on the table next to her plate and stood, turning her back to Paula, she slowly unbuttoned the front of her blouse with shaky fingers. Other than the nurses at the hospital and Matt, she’d never allowed anyone to see her back.
“What are you—”
Paula’s question stopped on a gasp as Katie let her blouse slide down just enough to reveal her upper back.
“Oh, dear God,” Paula whispered behind her.
“My mother took me to live with a monster,” Katie said, willing her voice to be calm and steady.
She waited a moment longer for Paula to really study the thick ropes of scars that zigzagged across her back, some straight others jagged, before pulling her blouse back up and buttoning it.
“Are those whip marks?”
Katie nodded, keeping her face forward until she could control the tears that sprung into her eyes. “He liked to use a bull whip to enforce his rules. And he did it