“I appreciate that.” James sipped his beer, watching Colin.
“The answer to my question is none of my business, I understand that, but I have a good reason for asking. Has Leslie ever been...physically mistreated?”
James looked out the window. He remained silent for a long time. Too long. Then he looked Colin in the eye.
“Yes.”
“Recently?”
Morrison’s shrug bothered Colin. “She has accidents,” he said slowly, picking at the label on his bottle. “She trips, knocks into things. Sometimes the damage is more serious than others.”
Shaking his head, Colin said, “I don’t understand. You’re telling me Leslie’s a klutz?”
“Only when she’s feeling particularly low. It’s all subconscious, but I’m given to understand that she does these things as a kind of self-inflicted punishment.”
“But...why?”
Morrison folded his hands and looked outside again. Stared at the table and picked at the tablecloth.
Colin waited for the man to look at him, and then asked, “Why?” again.
“Because she blames herself for what happened to her in the past.”
“What happened?”
“She was hurt. Bad.” James didn’t say any more, but Colin had a feeling that Leslie hadn’t suffered as Julie had. Rape was an ugly thing, but people generally called it what it was. At least at times like these.
“She was beaten up?”
The man looked outside once more, his Adam’s apple bulging as he swallowed. “Yes. More than once.”
“By a man.”
Morrison’s eyes glistened. “Yes.” The word was curt.
“One she knew.”
“Yes.”
“But not you.”
“It was before we were married.”
“Do you know who it was?”
Morrison shook his head.
He should let this go now. He had the information he’d been seeking. Confirmation that Chantel had been correct. Partially. Leslie had been hurt. But not by her husband. “Surely you asked.”
“Of course I did. Many times. But she wouldn’t tell me. She said I didn’t need to know. That she wanted to put it all behind her.”
“Could it have been her father?” Leslie’s dad, a shipping magnate, had been through multiple divorces and was currently living in San Diego.
“No. He’s a womanizer but a good man. A good father.”
“Do you think it’s someone you know? Is that why she won’t tell you?”
“I hope to God not. And no, I don’t think so. She was in LA at the time. My understanding is that it happened there.”
The story had holes. A woman suffers physical abuse but won’t say by who...
Colin’s thoughts stopped him short. Julie was bound by law not to say.
But a woman who had “accidents” to punish herself for having been abused in her past? Who was he to judge? Julie blamed herself for what had happened to her that night at the party.
“You said you had a reason for asking,” Morrison said. He took a long swig of beer and set his bottle down with a little more force than he had before.
“I’m going to tell you something, in the strictest confidence. Because I need your help....”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
RIDING IN THE car with Daniel Lewis, wishing for once that he was a chatty guy, Chantel stared out the window—looking for trouble—struggling to keep her mind on the streets.
Johnson’s phone vibrated, and she gave a start.
Her partner looked over at her.
She could look at her cell phone. He’d never know it was Johnson’s. She waited until it vibrated a second time before she did so.
Colin had called and left a message. With her phone pressed to her ear, making sure to click the volume down so there was no chance Daniel would catch anything, she listened to her lover’s voice.
He was leaving town again. Back to Japan. And needed to speak with her before he got on the plane at seven o’clock that evening.
She texted him right back, telling him that she was getting something to eat and would be in touch as soon as she was alone. Unanswered calls didn’t sit well with him.
And a woman living in a hotel room being out to eat was believable. Expected. You could only eat so much room service.
“If you ever need any help, I’m here.” Daniel’s smoker’s voice startled her. She looked over at him, not sure where he was coming from. Or what to say. Did she look helpless? He thought she was in trouble?
“I might not be the most pleasurable guy for you to be cooped up with all day, but I’m a good cop.”
“I’ve never doubted that for a second. I trust you with my back. And I’ve got yours.”