Page 22 of Hard Focus
“We’re not leaving you like this.” Taylor was behind herandhe tried to wrap his armsacrossher chest. She gripped his wrists and flung them away, turning and backing away. “Connie, what’s going on?”
“Get out!”I was the girlfriend he shoved into the face of that woman.“Go.”Someone he’d hurt so badly. Forgetting about the bandage covering the stitches behind her ear, she raked her fingers through her hair, crying out in pain as the tape pulled free. “Please, God. Get out. Go away.”
Her back hit something solid and immovable, and beside her head, she heard the deep voice from her dreams, soothing and calming her. “I’ve got you.” Arms swept under her knees and behind her backandshe was lifted from the ground.
She thumped him on the chest as she shouted, “Let go. Put me down.”
Looking up, she saw Cole’s neck and chin as he stared at Alden. She remembered his voice coming from behind Audrey’s door.“That woman.”He swallowed hard, the muscles in his neck moving, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down with whatever emotion plagued him. Connie twisted and pushed, shoving to try and regain her feet. His arms tightenedandhe barked, “Dammit, Alden. Where’s her bedroom?” Alden’s arm lifted and pointed, and without another word, Cole turned and stalked up the short hallway, angling through the open door. It closed behind himandhe bent to place her on the edge of the mattress.
Connie lunged to her feet only to encounter his hand on her shoulder as he shoved her back down. “Sit.”
“Get out.” Instead of a shout, her words escaped as more of a whimper. Her voice shook as she ordered, “Get out now.”
“Not going anywhere until you calm down.” He reached for her. “You pulled out a couple of stitches.” Something tickled her neckandhis hand came back bloody. “Let me take care of you.”
“Why? Oh, God. Why would you be nice to me? I was dating him. That man.” She couldn’t even bring herself to say Jonas’ name. “He hurt her, your sister. Why would you be nice to me?”
“Because you didn’t know.” He stated thiscalmly,as if ignorance absolved her of any wrongdoing. “Let me get my first aid kit.” He stood and grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on her nightstand. He pressed them into her hand and guided her to put pressure on the painful area behind her ear. “Hold that tight. It’ll stop the bleeding.” Staring into her eyes, he told Connie, “I’ll be right back.” A pause, then softly, he said, “I’ve got you.”
***
Connie quietly closed the lid on her laptop, leaning over the side of the bed to rest it on the floor. Eyes burning, she lay on her side, knees curled to her chest, chin pressed tight to her throat. Without really seeing it, or anything, she stared at a tiny scuff mark on the bedroom wall.
Connie had been holed up inside her bedroom for hours. The weak thumb lock was surely the smallest deterrent, but it was all she had to keep Taylor and Alden out. Cole had come back in before she’d had the idea, and he’d cleaned up the small amount of blood from the ripped stitches, removing the broken strands of thread from her scalp and replacing them with tiny pieces of tape. Connie hadn’t looked at him, kept her chin angled down and away, and closed her eyes when he lifted her chin.
“You’ll be okay,” he’d said in his deep, graveled voice, and then walked out without giving her a chance to offer thanks, quietly closing the door behind him.
His voice had rumbled in her living room for a moment, and the instant she’d heard Taylor’s footsteps headed her way, she’d jumped from the side of the bed to the door, twisting the lock. Taylor hadn’t argued much, just rattled the handle and then promised her through the door, “I’ll be right here.” She knew he hadn’t left, even though silence had descended on the apartment after Alden went home.
Still sleepless, about midnight Connie had the idea about researching Jonas online. She’d spent six hours digging through a variety of information and documents, all public record. It all was readily available, and when assembled into a chronological narrative, told the entire story.
First were a series of legal notifications about the crime itself. The police blotter, a daily log of all calls taken by the police department, had noted a female in distress calling from her apartment. Then an entry noting the dispatch of an ambulance to the same address.
A brief news article the next day about a possible rape occurring at a downtown dance club, the same one where she’d met Jonas. She’d shivered at the idea. The news media posted distorted security footage of the bathroom hallway and called for anyone who could identify the suspect in the attack. It showed a female figure going in alone, followed a few seconds later by a male figure who glanced furtively over his shoulder just before opening the door. The camera had only caught his profile, but Connie convinced herself she could tell it was Jonas.
Another news report dated a few weeks later stated the police had failed to locate asuspect,but declined to give out any additional details on the case. There was an election cycle in progress, and the news feeds were clogged with reports of candidates posturing and controversial stances over causes designed to have a reaction from the public.
Eight and a half months later, there had been a two-line birth announcement for infant girl Stewart in the newspaper, no father noted in the record.
Just over a year later, there’d been a huge outcry over various charges leveled against a dozen influential politicians, officials, and high-profile citizens who’d gotten caught up in false accusations resulting from DNA profiling without their permission. Hidden behind that series of articles about the evil of personal medical data in the wrong hands were three arrests. Three men who had raped women, and left behind samples of their DNA in the form of living children. One of them was listed as Jonas Thompson, charged with five counts of rape. The DNA used to identify him had also pinged against DNA in a number of other rape cases.
A couple of months later, there had been an anonymous interview of one of the women involved. She’d stated the authorities had not asked permission to use her child’s DNA in any database search, but because she’d qualified for medical care under an act intended to help victims of violent crime, they had forced the matter to try and identify her child’s father.
The trial was strung out for more than a year as the defense attorney tried everything to get the case thrown out. He couldn’t argue against the validity of the DNA, so he instead attacked the victim Connie now knew was Audrey in every possible way. Excerpts posted in online blogs made it sound particularly brutal. Connie knew that every rape accusation came withscrutinyof the victim, but the viciousness in this examination was horrendous.
Finally, Jonas had been found guilty and sentenced to five years in prison.
Adrianne was over four years old when he went into jail. She was not yet five when he was released on parole.
Six months later there was a summaryjudgmentinfamilycourt awarding joint parental rights to Jonas.
That had been two months after Connie met him.
She blinked.
How did something like this even happen?
Why hadn’t she seen the signs? Whatwerethe signs that the man you were dancing with was a convicted felon?
