Page 15 of Vanishing Point (Bent County Protectors #1)

Thomas arrived at the station and found Copeland in their office. His expression was grim, but there was a light in his eyes. Because after months of nothing, and just having to accept that they couldn’t prove Allen Scott had killed his wife, they had a glimmer of hope.

A woman was accusing Scott of battery.

It wasn’t his poor dead wife, whose death had been ruled a suicide, but it was something. A chance to dig deeper once again. And Scott behind bars, as long as their victim didn’t bolt.

“Deputy Clarion’s with the victim at the hospital. Scott’s in holding. Which one you want?”

Thomas considered either option. It all felt a little too… close now. Like he’d see Vi in the victim, and her ex-husband in the assaulter. He didn’t like either eventuality, but he knew which one would allow him to be at least somewhat in control. “Probably best if I handle the victim.”

Copeland nodded, and then got him up to speed on the police report from the deputies. They had a quick discussion about strategy, about what questions they wanted asked of both parties, and what steps they’d take after questioning.

“You going to be okay with this?” Copeland asked, eyeing Thomas like he didn’t quite trust him, right before they split up.

“It’s not the case.” Or at least it wasn’t only the case. “I don’t like leaving Vi alone with all her stuff going on. I’ve got the night shift driving by the house every once in a while, but with Clarion at the hospital, they’re short-staffed.”

“But this can’t wait,” Copeland said.

“No, it can’t. Which is why I’m here.”

Copeland nodded as if that was good enough for him, and then they split up. Thomas drove to the hospital armed with the police report the deputies had taken, additional information from Copeland, and the usual mix of dread and anticipation.

He would not like the answers he got tonight, but answers would lead to justice. Justice for a woman like Vi, and a woman who hadn’t been lucky enough to survive an awful man.

Deputy Clarion stood outside the victim’s hospital room. They exchanged greetings.

“Was it your call?” Thomas asked.

Clarion nodded. “Neighbor called it in. Scott was gone by the time we got there, and she was in rough shape, but she named Scott. Gave us his address and everything.”

“Good.” There was more he wanted to say, like Let’s get this SOB , but with Clarion’s body cam no doubt rolling, Thomas kept it to himself.

When he entered the hospital room, after he knocked and the victim gave him the go-ahead, Christine Smith looked at him through a swollen eye.

She sat in a hospital bed, her face an array of stitches, bandages and loud bruises.

She had one arm in a cast, and thanks to the doctor’s report, he knew she had three cracked ribs, a bruised kidney and a fractured ankle.

“Ma’am. My name is Detective Thomas Hart, and I’d like to ask you a few questions about what happened tonight, if you’re up for it.” She’d told the doctor and the deputy she was, but Thomas wanted to make sure.

“I’ve answered a lot of questions already,” she said. But she clasped her hands in her lap and didn’t send him away.

“I know, and I know how frustrating that can be.”

“What about traumatizing?” she demanded with a snap.

“That too,” he agreed, and tried not to think of what Vi would have gone through. Answering these questions, only to have the interviewer not believe her. Only to have every right step thwarted, all because her ex had worn a badge.

“But you still have to ask them,” the woman said on a long sigh.

“I’m afraid so. And I’d like to record your answers, if you’re okay with that.”

She looked away from him, at the window. The curtains were closed, so it wasn’t like there was anything to see beyond, but she still stared. He gave her time. Time to breathe. Time to think.

Eventually, and gingerly, she nodded. “Yeah. Whatever will end this.”

He set up the recorder, then asked her about the evening, and she answered questions in surprising detail. There was a kind of determined detachment as she described how the man she’d been dating had started to beat her in a furious rage.

She didn’t shed any tears, until she got to the last part. “All I did was ask about his wife. And he just…lost it. He wanted to kill me. And I still don’t know why .”

Thomas’s heart beat triple time, but he kept his voice even. His eyes steady. “Does Scott have a wife?”

“She died. And he’d mentioned it, played up the grieving widower thing.” Christine swallowed. “So a few times I’ve asked what happened, thinking that’s kind of what he wanted. To talk about it, you know?”

Thomas nodded.

“But tonight, the story didn’t match what he’d told me a few dates ago. I pointed that out. I haven’t had much luck with guys, so maybe I was kind of a bitch about it.”

“Doesn’t mean he gets to hit you, Ms. Smith.”

She inhaled sharply, then winced a little. “No, it doesn’t. Anyway, I was getting on him for lying to me and he just…snapped. Said he was going to kill me.”

“He said that to you? In those words?”

She looked Thomas dead in the eye. Tears glimmered there, but she didn’t blink, didn’t look away. “He told me in those words. He told me he was going to kill me, just like he killed his wife.”

For a moment, Thomas didn’t say anything. He had to fight his reaction. It wasn’t enough to charge Allen with murder, but it was a step toward this being a lot more than just a domestic assault case.

“Are you willing to say all this in front of a jury?”

Her jaw worked for a second, and she was clearly in pain, even if she was on some pain medication, but when she spoke, it was with conviction.

“I’m willing to scream it from the rooftops,” she said firmly, her expression grim, despite the bruises, bandages and swelling. “I want him to rot in hell.”

So do I.

V I HAD THOUGHT about waiting. She’d thought about trying to wave down the cop Thomas had driving by the house intermittently.

But in the end, she’d called Laurel Delaney-Carson. If only because Rosalie was too far away. It felt safer, smarter, to call someone she knew lived close by. Someone Thomas trusted more than anyone else. Someone he’d told her to call if there was trouble.

She was considering it a leap of faith. A gesture to Thomas that…she was here to stay and fight for their lives together, even if sometimes she wanted to stay hidden away forever.

God , she hoped it was the right choice.

She opened the front door, because Laurel had called and told her she was there.

The woman stepped inside, closed and locked the door behind her in quick, efficient cop moves.

She was dressed in the same kind of drab uniform Thomas usually wore—khakis, a Bent County Sheriff’s Department polo.

Her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and even though it was the middle of the night, she looked ready to handle anything that came her way.

Vi had to swallow down the battalion of nerves duking it out in her throat. She was in pajamas. Her hair was probably insane right now. She should have thought about her appearance, but she hadn’t wanted to wake up Magnolia and…

This wasn’t a social call. Vi breathed out. It didn’t matter how she looked. It mattered that she’d received a threatening text message in the middle of the night, after Thomas had been called in to work.

When she’d called Laurel, Laurel had assured her that Thomas was fine. At the local hospital questioning a victim. So, it hadn’t been some fake call. Thomas was okay.

And Vi was okay too. Maybe the text was more threatening than the usual screeds about how useless and terrible she was, and even more threatening than the voicemail he’d left a few months ago saying he couldn’t wait until she was a rotting corpse. Because that had been disturbing, but vague enough.

Count your days wasn’t vague. It was a countdown.

Vi let out a slow breath to steady herself. She’d done the right thing. This woman was Thomas’s friend, his mentor. Even if Laurel didn’t believe Vi , she’d at least do her due diligence for Thomas.

Unless she convinces him you’re just as crazy as Eric always said.

The fear of that, no matter how hard she tried to push it away, made her stutter when she spoke. “Thank you for coming. I shouldn’t have bothered you in the middle of the night. I know you’ve got kids and…”

“It’s part of the job,” Laurel said gently. “If it wasn’t, Thomas would be here and handling this himself, right?”

Vi nodded. She was almost glad he wasn’t. She wasn’t sure what he would have done if that had been the message that had woken them up. She was half-afraid he would have flown to Virginia himself.

It seemed better, or at least almost better, to deal with someone who might not believe her.

“Besides,” Laurel continued. “My husband is used to middle-of-the-night phone calls and me being called away. He’s superdad at that. We’ve been doing this for a long time. So, don’t worry about anything. You did the exact right thing. Now, can I see the text message?”

Vi nodded and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She’d had to unlock her phone to call Laurel, but she’d left the text message unread. After a short hesitation, she forced herself to open the message and hold the phone out to Laurel.

Laurel took the phone, read the screen. Her expression didn’t change, except maybe her mouth got a little tighter. “Not particularly clever.”

“No, not his strong suit.”

She looked up at Vi. “You’re sure it’s your ex-husband, then?”

Vi wanted to look away. To shrug and say who really knew anything. But if Laurel told Thomas she acted that way… “I don’t know who else it could be but proving it is the problem.”