Page 42 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“Her boss at the tech firm where they both worked.” June’s voice shook a little. Much as Robin’s had, he remembered, when she recounted the attack. “They were working late on a project when he came on to her. When she refused him, he didn’t give her a choice. He forced the matter. This was before the Me Too movement and it took her a few days to summon the courage to report. He was her boss. It was her first real job, and he was a Big Name in the industry. All the usual reasons.”

She gave a sound of disgust. “A few of us finally persuaded her that reporting the assault was the right thing to do. And then you and the detectives working the case all told her bluntly that she didn’t have a case. Robin was devastated for a long, long time.”

Oh, damn. He hated cases like that one, when he and the local detectives felt like Sisyphus, endlessly pushing the same lousy rock uphill.

“I remember the case. It was a tough one. We all believed her, that wasn’t an issue. But he claimed the encounter was consensual and said she became angry when he wouldn’t give her full credit on the project they were working on together.”

She scoffed. “Sounds like him.”

“The detectives and our investigators tried to find others with similar stories who could support her story. We knew they were out there and we heard several friend-of-a-friend accusations, but nobody else would come forward.”

“There were definitely more cases out there.”

“How is Robin doing?”

He remembered her as bright, articulate, sincere. She would have been an amazing witness, though better if she had reported the assault immediately afterward instead of waiting three days, when they could no longer find physical evidence to go along with her testimony.

“She’s okay,” June said as they neared the cabin. “She’s had a great deal of therapy and it seems to have helped. She’s married now, to a good man who adores her, and they have a toddler. She left the tech industry shortly after the assault and now works very successfully as a marketing consultant.”

“I’m glad to hear she’s on a path to healing.”

“Meanwhile,” June went on, her tone acid, “absolutely nothing happened to her boss, who is still widely known in the industry as a sexual predator on the hunt for vulnerable, defenseless young women.”

Her accusatory tone was nothing he hadn’t heard—or felt—about himself before.

“Only one of many reasons I’m no longer working in the prosecutor’s office. For every perp we were able to convict, a dozen more slipped through the cracks in the system. I hated it.”

“Not as much as the victims of those perps did, I imagine.”

He thought of Soledad, so full of life and promise.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. As much as we tried to change things, we were sometimes forced to make a lot of decisions based on a misogynistic system that unfortunately gives the predator the benefit of the doubt, especially where the victim is a woman of color and the accused is not and when the accused is in a position of power. It’s a lousy system and it’s wrong. I want to say things are changing, but any progress is far too slow.”

In the glow of the porch light coming from the cabin, he could see his words didn’t do anything to appease her. Norshould they. He was the first to admit the flawed justice system often didn’t work for those who needed it most.

At least he knew her dislike of him was related to his previous work decisions and not necessarily personal. Somehow, that didn’t make him feel any better.

“So that’s why you’re here spending your days in a workshop instead of a courtroom?”

“One of the reasons.”

That was as far as he was willing to go to explain all the events that had led him here.

“Do you want me to grab those journals for you tonight or would you prefer I come back tomorrow?”

She gave him a long look, as if trying to peer past his obfuscation. Finally, she shrugged. “Tonight works for me, if you’re okay with that.”

“Sure. It won’t take long to open the safe.”

That was at least something he could probably manage without screwing up.

Chapter 15

Juniper

She was trying to hang on to her anger at Beckett Hunter but was finding it harder with every moment she spent with him.

As she turned on the lights inside the writing cabin, she replayed their conversation.

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