Retribution by Jilliane Hoffman Page A

visiting hours. A short woman with frizzy red hair and an outdated red-and-black pantsuit walked into the room.She wore no makeup, except for white under-eye concealer to help hide the dark circles, and her face bore too many lines for her age, which Chloe guessed to be about thirty-five. She was followed into the room by an older man in a cheap blue suit who towered over her by at least a foot. He looked near to retirement, with gray, thinning hair combed over his bald spot. He smelled of stale cigarette smoke. They both looked tired, and together, they made an odd-looking pair, like a hot dog and hamburger.
    ‘Hi, Chloe. I’m Detective Amy Harrison. I’m with the Queens County Special Victims’ Unit. This is my partner, Detective Benny Sears. I know this is a tough time for you, but we need to ask you a few questions about what happened to you last night while everything is still fresh in your mind.’
    Detective Harrison looked over at Michael, still standing by the window. There was a waiting pause.
    Michael walked over and extended his hand. ‘I’m Mike Decker. I’m Chloe’s boyfriend.’
    Detective Harrison took his hand and nodded. She addressed Chloe. ‘Chloe, if it will make it easier on you, Mike can stay with you during this, but only if you want him to.’
    ‘Of course I’m staying with her.’ Michael’s voice had a sharp edge.
    Chloe nodded slowly.
    Detective Sears smiled at her and nodded in Michael’s direction, acknowledging him, then he sniffled, cracked his gum, and pulled out a notepad and a Bic pen. He stood at the foot of the bed while Detective Harrison pulled up a chair next to Chloe’s bedside, which now made him tower a full two feet over his partner.
    Detective Harrison began. ‘Let’s start with this. Do you know the person who did this to you?’
    Chloe shook her head.
    ‘Was it one person or more than one?’
    ‘Slowly, ‘Just one.’
    ‘Do you think you would be able to recognize him again if you saw him? I’ll bring in a police sketch artist to work with you…’
    Tears flowed down Chloe’s cheeks. She shook her head, her voice barely audible, ‘No. He had on a mask.’
    Michael made a noise that sounded like a snort. Under his breath, ‘Mother-fucking bastard…’
    ‘Please, Mr Decker… ‘ Detective Harrison’s voice was cutting.
    Detective Sears’s face was stone. ‘What kind of mask?’
    ‘He wore a rubber clown mask. I couldn’t see his face.’
    Detective Harrison continued gently. ‘That’s okay, Chloe. Just tell us what you remember. Take your time.’
    She couldn’t stop the tears now, and they streamed down her face. Her body started to tremble, slightly at first and then uncontrollably more violent. ‘I was sleeping. There was this voice in my dream, I think he called me Beany. I tried to wake up, I tried.’
    She raised her hands to her face and saw the gauze-wrapped wrists. Then she remembered the rope and cringed. ‘But he grabbed my hands and then he tied me up and I couldn’t… I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t scream… he had something in my mouth.’ She touched her fingers to her lips, still tasting the dry, soft silk, heavy on her tongue. She could feel herself gagging, and it was hard to breathe again.
    ‘He put something in my mouth, then he had myarms and my feet and I just couldn’t move anywhere. I couldn’t move…’ She looked away from Detective Harrison and reached for Michael’s hand, to steady the shaking, but he had turned back toward the window, hands fisted.
    I just wish you had let me stay with you last night
    Detective Harrison glanced in Michael’s direction, reached over and touched Chloe’s arm. ‘A lot of rape victims blame themselves, Chloe. But you need to know that it is not your fault. Nothing that you did or didn’t do could have prevented this.’
    ‘He knew things. He knew where my candles were, there, in the drawer. He lit my candles, and, I… I just couldn’t move!’
    ‘Did