Radclyffe - Justice 01 - Shield Of Justice Read online

  "Im on my own time now, anyhow," Rebecca offered. "Theres a diner up the street"

  "Arnies? Not at this hour! My digestive system would never survive," Catherine exclaimed in mock horror. "My apartment isnt far. Could we finish up there? It will just take me a minute to fix something."

  Rebecca was momentarily surprised, and then realized she would like nothing better than to have a late dinner with Catherine Rawlings.

  "Sounds fine. I cant take one more burger anyhow."

  **********

  The address Catherine directed her to was in an old brownstone, recently renovated, in a gentrified part of the city that bordered the sprawling university area. Catherines was a large ground floor apartment that opened onto a private rear garden. Rebecca couldnt see much of the patio through the sliding glass kitchen doors, but the rest of the apartment was decorated in warm earth tones that Rebecca found soothing. The atmosphere was warm and welcoming, and Rebecca finally began to unwind. She decided she liked the doctors style. She wandered into the large living room and perused the titles on the floor-to-ceiling bookcases that lined one wall. Many of the titles were recent novels and biographies. Rebecca noted several she had been meaning to read but kept putting off. Something usually came up at the station that devoured what little spare time she had. She reminded herself she still had work to do as Catherine came through the archway from the kitchen with a bottle in one hand.

  "Glass of wine?" she asked.

  "Just seltzer and lime, if you have it," Rebecca replied.

  Catherine had changed into a loose white cotton blouse over black brushed silk trousers. Rebecca was suddenly aware of what a beautiful woman she was. Her angular face, framed by wavy, richly highlighted auburn hair and accentuated by prominent cheekbones, was just short of perfect. Her wide-set green eyes and generous mouth bestowed a human quality to her beauty that made her even more attractive. Rebecca found herself really appreciating another woman for the first time in months. She realized she was staring when Catherines full lips parted in a soft playful smile.

  "No drinking on duty?"

  "No drinking for me any time--at least not for the last four years," Rebecca said evenly. Four years, three months, and two days.

  Catherine heard the tension in her voice and asked, "Will it bother you if I drink?"

  Rebecca smiled then herself. "Most of the world still drinks--and honestly, it rarely bothers me now. It would be harder if you didnt drink because of me."

  "Well, then, come into the dining room so I can feed you," Catherine said.

  **********

  Rebecca pushed back her chair with a sigh. She had forgotten how pleasant it was to sit down at a table and enjoy a meal. And to enjoy the company of a warm, intelligent woman.

  "Thank you," she said, "it was wonderful."

  Catherine smiled at her, unaccountably pleased by the compliment. She felt almost rewarded by Rebeccas pleasure.

  "I take it you dont cook much."

  Rebecca shrugged ruefully. "Never did. Its worse when you live alone. I just dont think about eating as something to enjoy any more." She stopped, suddenly embarrassed. Christ, Frye, why dont you tell her all your problems! "At any rate, it was great."

  Catherine sensed Rebeccas discomfort. It was apparent that her charming guest felt awkward discussing herself. Catherine was not surprised. She found people in Rebeccas line of work reluctant to reveal intimate details and slow to trust. She wasnt sure if it was the work that made them that way, or if those pre-existing traits were what made them so good at their jobs. It was something that suddenly interested her very much. Rebecca interested her. Catherine wondered what lay beneath that cool, controlled exteriorfor she was certain that there were depths to Rebecca that the woman herself was unaware of. She remembered the barely contained rage in Rebeccas voice when she described the rapists last attack and her passionate declaration to stop him. Oh, yes, there was much more to this woman than she revealed to the world.

  Catherine knew intuitively that Rebecca would not confide anything easily, and she sensitively changed the subject. "What do you need to know, Detective?" she asked. She poured the last of the wine into her glass and leaned back, waiting.

  "Probably more than you can tell me. Does Janet Ryan have any memory for the last eight hours?"

  "Not much. She remembers pulling into a drive-off on the River Drive about five forty-five. There was a regatta and she stopped to watch. She left her car and headed toward the water. The next thing she remembers is waking up in the ICU."

  Rebecca frowned. "Does she recall any one else around? Anything out of the ordinary?"

  "I dont know. I didnt specifically ask her. She was pretty disoriented, and frightened. I was trying to establish the extent of her amnesia and get her calmed down."

  "Of course," Rebecca said tersely. She couldnt expect a psychiatrist to think like a cop. Shed planned to interview the girl in the morning anyhow. "Anything else? Anything at all?"

  "Im sorry--her amnesia is total for the time in question."

  "And you have no doubt that shes telling the truth?"

  "None at all."

  "How long will it last?"

  "I dont know," Catherine said regretfully. "I wish I did."

  Rebecca stood up, her jaw set with determination. "I cant wait for her to remember. The time between attacks is getting shorter. Ive got to find some other way to get to him." She thanked Catherine absently, her mind already planning her next move.

  Catherine watched her as she walked to the door, thinking it would be a long time before Rebecca Frye let herself rest again.

  Chapter Five

  Rebecca let herself into her apartment and tripped over a gym bag she had left lying on the floor several days earlier. The air had the musty, close smell of an unoccupied house. She pushed a window open and stood looking out. The night air held just the hint of a breeze, and she leaned against the window ledge, hoping to wash away the depression that had settled over her the moment she got home. The empty apartment was too clear a reminder of her own empty life, an aching emptiness she tried hard to ignore. Usually she was successful. The demands of her work left her little time for reflection, and when she did have a spare moment, she spent it at the gym, lifting weights until the fatigue in her body blocked out any other thought. The interlude with Catherine Rawlings had unsettled her. The quiet intimacy of the doctors apartment, the shared meal, the soft, but insistent strength she sensed in the woman, touched some chord in Rebecca. She didnt want to think about it, but she couldnt ignore the loneliness she had felt as Catherines door closed gently behind her.

  She looked at her watch. Three A.M . She was tired, but too restless to sleep. It was one of those times she longed for a drink. Or, as had been the case, more than one. She fought the urge, as she usually did, by turning her mind to the River Drive case. There was something there, she knew, that she just couldnt connect with. Something she had heard, or seen, that would give her a handle on him. Whatever it was, it eluded her now.

  Unconsciously her thoughts returned to Catherine Rawlings. Her integrity and compassion were obvious when she spoke of her patients, and her desire to put an end to this mad mans rampage was obvious, too. But it was more than just her intensity that drew Rebeccas attention back to her. Catherine Rawlings had touched some chord in her, some long-buried yearning for the company and solace of a woman. Or had she merely imagined the warmth in the doctors green eyes when she looked at Rebecca, or the welcoming smile as she approached? It doesnt matter, and it sure isnt going to help me solve this case

  Rebecca shook off her memories with an irritated shrug. She tossed her jacket on a chair and pulled off her shoulder holster before stretching out on the worn couch. She rarely slept in her bed--the empty space beside her only made sleep more elusive. What she couldnt know as she finally closed her eyes was that across town Catherine Rawlings turned in her sleep and smiled at the image of a tall, blond woman with lonely eyes.

  *********
*

  It was not yet seven when Rebecca pulled her red Corvette into the police lot beside the police cruisers and vans. She knew Jeff would be there before her, typing out their report of last nights events. She smiled to herself at the thought of Jeffs face as he labored over the typewriter.

  She found him hunched over his rickety metal desk in the tiny vice squad room, slowly two-finger typing a report in triplicate.

  "Hi, Reb," he said without glancing up. "Anything from the shrink?"

  "About what youd expect," Rebecca answered, shedding her jacket to the back of her chair. "Want some more coffee?"

  "Yeah," he said, looking up with a lecherous grin. "Shelly was still awake when I got home last night."

  "Nice to know someones making out," she grumbled good-naturedly as she headed for the table at the back of the room. She threaded her way between dilapidated chairs and dented desks haphazardly crowded together, and filled two Styrofoam cups to the brim with the evil looking black liquid that passed as coffee. She carried them at arms length back to the desk that faced Jeffs and pushed a stack of files to one side with her elbow. She settled herself into her chair, steeling herself for the first taste of the bitter brew.

  "Ah," she murmured after her first swallow, "nectar of the gods."

  "You must still be asleep if you think that swill is good," Jeff said, reaching for his own cup.

  She shrugged and reached for the first page of his report. As usual it was neat and complete.

  "Nothing new, I take it," she said, skimming the brief review of the latest rape.

  Jeff stretched out his legs and pushed his chair back from the cramped table. "I ran a background check on the shrink."

  Rebecca looked up in surprise. "Why? Shes not a suspect."

  "Yeah, I know--but shes tied in with our only witness to date--and she may be the one to open that particular box for us. It never hurts to have a little leverage."

  Rebecca had to agree. If they were going to get anything from Janet Ryan, she suspected they would need Catherine Rawlings help.

  "So, what did you find?" she asked, careful not to reveal her interest. Jeff might be her closest friend, but even with him she rarely disclosed anything personal. She certainly wasnt about to tell him of the disturbing effect Catherine Rawlings had had on her.

  "Well, it seems the lady is quite a mystery. I talked with a couple of the docs I know, and they all say the same thing. Professionally above reproachmedical degree from University, residency at University Central. From there she accepted a teaching position at the medical school and is now a" he paused to check his notes, "clinical professor of psychiatry."

  Rebecca listened intently. She wasnt surprised. It fit with the impeccable professional image she had gotten of Catherine the night before.

  "So--whats the mystery?"

  "No personal info available--lives alone, apparently always has. Everyone is happy to tell you about her professional accomplishments, but nobody will say squat about the rest of her life."

  "Maybe there isnt anything to say," Rebecca countered, just a hint of irritation in her voice. "Some women are pretty consumed by their work, you know."

  Jeff looked at her thoughtfully, thinking if anyone should know about that, it was his solitary partner.

  "Yeah--well, that may be. But I did dig up something interesting. Her private practice--she specializes in rape and incest cases. Shes even done some work with us on that kind of thing."

  Rebecca whistled, thinking of Janet Ryan and her amnesia.

  "And thats not all," Jeff continued, "a lot of her private patients are dyk--uh, lesbians."

  Rebecca slowly raised her eyes to his. He looked away.

  "Might be useful information," she said nonchalantly. She felt anything but nonchalant, her mind racing with questions about Catherine Rawlings. She forced herself to consider the information Jeff had gathered.

  "Maybe I should have another talk with Dr. Rawlings."

  "Thought you might want to," Jeff replied dryly.

  **********

  Catherine was nearly finished with morning rounds when her pager went off. She excused herself and left the group of residents and students discussing the latest drug therapy for depression. She picked up a wall phone and dialed the extension registered on her beeper.

  "Dr. Rawlings," she said as the call was picked up.

  "Rebecca Frye, Doctor. I wonder if we could talk?"

  Catherine glanced at her watch. She had an outpatient clinic to supervise in an hour. "Im in-between right now. How about joining me in the cafeteria?"

  "Fine."

  "Its on the second floor."

  "Ill find it," Rebecca replied.

  Catherine picked up a chefs salad and seltzer and glanced around the cafeteria. She saw Rebecca at once, looking slightly out of place in her grey jacket and black trousers amidst a sea of white coats. She made her way across the room to join her at a small table near the windows.

  Rebecca watched her approach, thinking she looked at home in her knee-length white lab coat. The coat did nothing to detract from her trim figure. Rebecca tried not to notice the shapely legs or the hint of full breasts under the pale green suit she wore. Rebecca waited until Catherine was seated before speaking.

  "I have a few more questions, Doctor."

  "I gathered that, Detective Frye," Catherine commented dryly, studying Rebeccas face. She was glad to see that the circles under her clear blue eyes had diminished and some of the tension had left her face. She was also simply glad to see her.

  "Is it true that you specialize in rape and incest cases?"

  Catherine was a little taken aback--not with the directness of Rebeccas approach, she expected that of the forthright detective, but with the rapidity with which she gathered information. She had known that this, among other things, might come up. She just hadnt expected it so soon.

  "Not exactly specialize--but it is a particular interest of mine."

  "Dont give me double talk, Doctor. Im not the enemy," Rebecca said quietly.

  Catherine sighed and pushed aside her unwanted salad. She met Rebeccas penetrating gaze.

  "Yes, its true that the majority of my practice involves sexual abuse survivors."

  "Why didnt you tell me this last night?"

  Catherine looked genuinely surprised. "I didnt think it was relevant."

  "You didnt think it was relevant ?" Rebecca asked incredulously. "We finally have a witness, we hope , to a brutal rapea series of rapes we cant get a single lead on, and our only witness suddenly has amnesia. You happen to be an expert in such crimes, and you didnt think it was relevant ." Rebecca didnt raise her voice, but her anger was evident. God, save me from dealing with civilians!

  "Detective Frye, I am not an expert on the crimes . I am an expert, if you will, on the effects of the crimes. Thats a very big difference."

  "And what about Janet Ryan--is she a victim of the crime?"

  "Dont ask me questions you know I cant answer," Catherine said quietly, her eyes holding Rebeccas.

  Rebecca sighed slightly. "I have to try."

  Catherine leaned forward, her face intent. "Rebecca, I will do anything I possibly can to assist in this case, but I cannot, and I will not, disclose client confidences. Please try to understand."

  The use of her first name did not escape Rebecca. She tried to ignore the quickening of her heartbeat, reminding herself she was in the middle of a hospital cafeteria, and in the middle of an investigation.

  "I do understand. I appreciate your desire to protect your patients, and I respect you for it. Im just grasping at straws here. I cant get a handle on this guy, and its driving me nuts!"

  It was an uncharacteristic outburst for her. Catherines heart filled with compassion as she watched the torment play across Rebeccas fine features. In that moment she felt every shred of Rebeccas frustration and helplessness.

  "Im seeing Janet at three this afternoon. She requested that I take over from Ray Bauer. Perhaps shell remember
more."

  Catherines caring showed in her voice, and Rebecca met her gaze gratefully. For an instant the room retreated from view as she surrendered to the understanding and comfort in those green eyes. It felt like a caress. She flushed and looked away.

  "Id like a report either way."

  Catherine accepted Rebeccas withdrawal reluctantly, acutely aware of the fleeting connection and the equally sudden distance between them. She pushed her chair back, replying formally, "Of course. You can call me around six tonight. I should be done here by then."

  "Fine," Rebecca replied. Impulsively she added, "Why dont I pick you up--we can talk over dinner. And you wont have to cook."

  Catherine nodded with pleasure. She would like nothing better than spending more time with this intriguing woman.

  Chapter Six

  Rebecca pulled into the No Parking zone in front of University Central Hospital at five forty-five pm. She took out the notes she had made at the crime scene that afternoon. She and Cruz had decided to do another walk-through of the area, hoping to find something that might have been overlooked by the lab crew. The assault had occurred in a copse of trees bordering the water on River Drive. A narrow path separated the trees from the road fifty yards away. The ground between was a thicket of low shrubs and grass. Although the park was frequented day and night by bicyclists and runners, this section of the trail was unpaved and poorly maintained, which tended to discourage all but the most serious joggers. The isolated location was similar to that of the previous two rapes. The most recent victim had been found by a middle-aged man chasing his errant golden retriever. It was probably a coincidence that saved her life. Trampled shrubbery suggested she had struggled. That was the only difference from the first two incidents, in which there was little sign of resistance. Jeff theorized that their assailant knocked them unconscious before pulling them off the trail and assaulting them. The evidence supported that, but Rebecca found it hard to believe that the women hadnt been warned of his approach. Even if he had been well-hidden, he would have had to reveal himself to get close enough to subdue them. No weapon had been found, and the injuries sustained by the victims only indicated that some kind of blunt object had been used. The details of the crime continued to elude them.