Stay Away From My Daughter Read online

  She wasn’t too keen to actually leave the house, and she wondered how much of that was from the night before. Yeah, she was just fine with staying where she was. She hoped it would pass, because she wasn’t made for isolation.

  “Yeah, it’s called parental love. Just give them some time, but seriously, if you are, I think that’s fantastic. I could help?”

  Sara took in Tiffy, wondering what she was doing. “Like what, drive the getaway car? What would I tell my parents? I’m not going to be able to do anything without my parents knowing about it. The inquisition is here, and they’ll insist on knowing where I am every minute of the day, and who I’m with, and what I’m doing. They may even insist on knowing what I’m thinking.”

  Tiffy reached over and touched her leg. “Oh, now it won’t be that bad. You will likely have to check in like every five minutes, though.”

  Sara took in the mischievous grin on Tiffy’s face. If it had been any other time, she’d have burst out laughing, but she said nothing.

  “Okay, how about this?” Tiffy said. “Why don’t you invite him over?”

  She took in her sister-in-law, unsure of what she was suggesting. “You want me to call Devon, whose number I don’t have, and ask him to drive out here, into the lion’s den, so to speak? Yeah, can’t see how that would be a great idea.”

  Tiffy’s expression said she didn’t agree. “Ask him. Never known you to shy away from anything, so don’t start now. And getting Devon’s number is easy.”

  She wasn’t so sure. “I’m not asking my dad or the sheriff. That would be just…” She stopped talking at Tiffy’s sly smile.

  “Oh, that’s easy. I’ll ask. I’ll get it.”

  She just took in Tiffy, realizing that she would. At the same time, she wondered if that was a good idea.

  “But again, only if you want me to,” Tiffy said. “If you want to sit here and wallow instead, I’m happy to sit here and wallow with you. All day. Tomorrow I have to work, but I could call in sick if you need me to continue to sit here with you.”

  She looked out into the wide open countryside, and this time she couldn’t keep from smiling. This was the property her father owned, the ranch where she’d been born, and she saw not a soul around. Isolation, country life, just her and her family.

  “Okay, but when you can’t get his phone number, I’m going to say I told you so,” Sara said. This time, when Tiffy reached over and ran her hand over her shoulder, her arm, she could see she was enjoying this.

  “Have some faith, Sara. I’ll get the number—but you need to do something else here.”

  Sara didn’t say anything as she took in the seriousness that had come over Tiffy.

  “I want you to tell yourself that you’re not in any way responsible for this, and keep telling yourself that until you believe it.”

  Chapter 7

  “What is it about having daughters? I swear I’m going to be completely gray and likely in an early grave,” Andy said under his breath as he looked out the kitchen window and saw Tiffy sitting with Sara, who had done her best to avoid talking all morning.

  He wanted a second with her to maybe shake her and ask her what she was thinking, because it was killing him to think of the danger she had put herself in. Worse was seeing the marks around her neck and knowing how close he’d come to losing her. He felt a hand on his back, and then Laura was there beside him.

  “It’s having children, period. You’ll survive, I’ll survive, and then there are the grandkids, and the worrying will continue. She’s alive, she’ll be fine, and she’s here…”

  “Andy,” Blake called out to him.

  He turned to see his friend dressed in a tan shirt, his sheriff’s badge pinned to his chest, his belt and gun holstered. His cell phone, on which he’d been talking to one of his deputies a minute earlier, was now on the kitchen island in front of him. He was all cop today and was giving everything he could to finding the guy who had attacked Sara.

  “We should talk about the good, the bad, and the party,” Blake said. “I really need to get Sara in here and talk to her. My deputies and I have talked to a number of kids on campus—that is, after we got past their questions of ‘What party?’”

  Andy didn’t miss the sarcasm dripping from Blake’s tone or the way he rested his hands on his hips. Jeremy and Gabriel stood off to the side, and they exchanged a look. He waited for Blake to continue.

  “So they’re denying there was a party?” he finally said.

  Blake nodded. “Sure, right up until I threatened to go to the dean and let him know that his students weren’t cooperating, and it seems likely everyone who lived in the dorm and their friends were there, so there would need to be surveillance of who was coming and going, and we knew there were drugs, booze… That was pretty much all it took to get them talking, but are we getting everything? Hell no. Most don’t want the school finding out, and now, because word is out that Sara was attacked and she was at the party, there may also be a lot of blame going around, a lot of finger-pointing. We gave the description of the guy, though, and we may have some leads, but a lot of the kids are throwing out names. Just a heads-up that some of the statements this morning about Sara haven’t been too flattering.”

  Andy wondered if his eyes bugged out. “And what statements are those?” he snapped. Beside him, Gabriel crossed his arms and didn’t look happy.

  “You really want me to get into it?” Blake said.

  Jeremy actually gestured for him to keep going. “Yeah,” he said, his tone sharp, “and who’s saying what? I want to know, because Sara was messed with, and if anyone is saying anything different…” Jeremy just stopped, likely at the sharp glance Blake tossed his way.

  Laura had been quiet until now, but she cut in and said, “You brought it up. If someone is saying something about my daughter, I want to hear it.”

  Blake nodded. “Well, we spoke with two girls who said they’re friends of hers and were with her at the dorm party. They indicated that she’d been all over the boyfriend of one of her friends, and they were making out and had slipped off to one of the dorm rooms. When I brought up the drugs, the alcohol, and the fact that the guy who attacked her had likely been there, watching her, they said she’d probably made out with him. They said she did that kind of thing, and one even implied Sara may have provided the drugs. They said if she was attacked in the parking lot, it was probably because she was known for leading on the guys and making out with more than one guy in a night. A tease, one called her. The other girl said it was Sara’s idea to join the party in the dorm. But then we spoke with one of the guys who said there was no way Sara did drugs. Then again, it also seemed he had a bit of a crush on her. He could add nothing about the attacker, but he said every guy at the party would give anything to be with her.

  “No one seemed to remember everyone who was there,” he continued. “It seems everyone’s memories have become murky. Some are truly bothered she was attacked but didn’t remember anything about the night, including how many were actually in the dorms, partying. It sounded like it was jam packed. The description of him could’ve fit half the guys there, so I think we need to have a sketch artist brought in. I’ll have Sara sit with her. I’ll also reach out to Devon and get him to sit with the artist. Between the two of them, we should get an accurate image, and I’ll show it around.”

  Andy just stared at Blake, unable to say a word.

  Jeremy swore. “You know what? It sounds like you’re starting to stray a bit, Blake. She was attacked. Why is there so much focus on the party, the drugs? That is bullshit. Sara is no more a drug dealer than I am. I know what these college parties are about. I’ve been to every one of them, and what possible reason would Sara have for bringing pills? Sounds to me like those girls are just looking to jam my sister up. Just some scorned angry bitches, is my guess. There’s no way. It was a party, a college party. I can tell you those get seriously crazy, out of control.”

  “What does this have to do with Sara
being attacked?” Gabriel said. “What about the guy who attacked her? The entire focus should be on getting the artist over here, and Sara can sit down and draw up his image so we can find him.”

  Andy wasn’t surprised that Jeremy and Gabriel had gone to bat for Sara. They were all so close. As much as he wanted his daughter to remain innocent in his mind forever, he knew that wasn’t possible—but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to let his head go where Blake had been leading it.

  “Well, let me get to that,” Blake said. “We’re not getting much detail because no one wants to go down for anything that went on at that party, so until we can get the sketch artist down, I wanted to have a word with Sara about the pills. One of the students mentioned they were crushing up bottles of white pills, and we’ve had a few ODs from oxy knock-offs recently, from fentanyl. Whoever is bringing in the pills—”

  “You’re trying to tie Sara to the pills?” Laura cut in sharply. “You know what, Blake? This is about Sara being attacked. Focus on catching the guy who did it, not the party. My daughter is not a dealer and has no reason to bring pills in.”

  Blake leveled his shrewd gaze on Laura, and Andy shook his head.

  “Blake, we’re friends,” he said, still stuck on the accusations of those girls. “You’ve known Sara since she was a baby, all my kids. You think she’s some dealer?”

  “I told you that unflattering things were being said,” Blake replied. “You want me to sugar-coat it or tell you the truth? For the record, yes, we are friends, and as your friend, I don’t believe she’s a dealer or brought the pills. At the same time, though, I’ve seen kids do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. There’s been a lot of focus on those pills. College drugs have been one of my big pushes with the department. How do you think it will look to my deputies if I tell them to ignore what these students are saying about Sara?

  “This is coming from my deputies, to be clear, and I’m trying to shut it down, but the best thing is for me to just disprove it, otherwise I’m not helping her. Remember, when we catch this guy, all these statements are part of the record, and the defense attorney would have a field day painting Sara as the bad guy. It never comes down to just a guy attacking a girl. You want to see her character ripped apart in a court room because of a bunch of gossip and finger-pointing and allegations? Because I don’t. Court is ugly, and victims never come out the winner. It’s brutal. I can’t protect her from what will come at her, and neither can you. So let’s get into this and show how false all of these accusations are.”

  Andy hadn’t even thought that far. He was still stuck on the only scenario that mattered, where his daughter had been attacked. “But it may not even go to court,” he said. “You haven’t even caught the guy yet, and you’re already talking about the worst-case…”

  The screen door squeaked, and Sara and Tiffy appeared in the kitchen archway. Everyone stopped talking and stared at her, and Blake said nothing as he took her in. Andy could see how much this had taken from his daughter, and as much as he wanted to protect her and make all this go away, he couldn’t. For the first time, he had an idea of why some women never pursued their attackers.

  Chapter 8

  “We had a deal, and whether you want the product or not, you still have to pay up,” Devon said. He was outside the Y, having waited nearly thirty minutes for Lyall Farmer, the pre-med college student he’d been supposed to meet the night before when he heard Sara screaming. This was a part of town he didn’t frequent, and he’d been given more than his share of odd looks.

  Lyall was about two inches shorter than him, with olive skin, and he was an arrogant dick. “But I don’t need it anymore,” he said. “I told you that when you called this morning. Last night, you didn’t show, so you left me no other option. I needed it last night, so sorry, no. Deal’s off.”

  Anton was going to be furious.

  “Look, I was on my way,” Devon said, “but a girl was attacked in the parking lot. I had to pull the guy off her. He’d have raped her, killed her. I made a choice, and with the campus then crawling with cops, there was no way I could come find you. They’d be asking why I was there. I could’ve given them your name, but I can see from your face now that that wouldn’t have gone over well.”

  The guy actually stepped back and pulled his hoodie back over his hair, which was an odd shade of brown. He had a perpetual five o’clock shadow, and from the look in his eyes, Devon was pretty sure he was popping some kind of uppers. Lyall jammed his hands in his pockets and glanced over his shoulder.

  “We don’t know each other,” he said. “Got it. So that was you, huh?”

  Devon wasn’t sure what to make of the way he’d said it. From the way he was shifting his stance from one foot to the other, he could see he needed to cut it and get out of there. The guy was on edge, not a good sign. “The money, seriously,” he said. “You do not want my brother on your bad side. I’m just the messenger.”

  Lyall shook his head and backed up, and Devon noted the looks from people coming out of the Y. It was always the same. “Then remind your brother that when you don’t meet and deliver on time, it voids the deal.”

  “Everything all right there, Lyall?” called a middle-aged man coming out of the Y, a gym bag over his shoulder. He glanced over to Devon, who had his gray hoodie up and his hands jammed in his pocket, holding an envelope, the contents of which he’d been supposed to deliver the night before. “What’s going on here?”

  “Nothing. Just a little business, is all,” Devon said, giving all his attention to Lyall, who shrugged.

  “Look, we don’t want any trouble around here,” the man said, gesturing to Devon.

  He heard Lyall laugh under his breath before he said, “It’s fine, Jim. Don’t worry about it. Was just giving this guy directions. He’s lost, in the wrong part of town, is all.”

  Devon didn’t know what to say. Lyall had just yanked the rug right out from under him, and he could also hear his cell phone buzzing in his back pocket. He was furious. The guy was still standing there, suspicious, and he wondered by the way he watched him if he was going to call the cops.

  Devon reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone, seeing a name and number he didn’t know. He was about to hit decline when Lyall up and walked off, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  “Hello?” he snapped into the phone, and he turned his back on the white guy who was still eyeing him up and started walking back the way he’d come.

  “Hey, is this Devon?”

  He didn’t recognize the sweet voice. “Yeah, who’s calling?”

  “This is Sara…Sara Friessen.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. The man who had been watching him had now left, and he couldn’t see Lyall anymore. Screwed by another guy. His brother wouldn’t be happy. “Sorry, who?” He was distracted.

  There was a long pause on the other end. “I’m sorry, from last night. You pulled off the guy who was attacking me?”

  He froze mid-step and stared at the phone again. Why would she be calling him? “Yeah, sorry. It’s been crazy today.” He’d never expected to hear from her. “You all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m…I never really got a chance to thank you.”

  He could hear her breathing in and out. “Hey, no need. Just glad I was there and heard you. Doing what anyone would have.”

  “But it wasn’t anyone, it was you,” she said. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but I was wondering if you could come over—if you’d like to come over, come out to the ranch where I live, my parents’ ranch. I’m rambling and such, but I’d like to talk if possible. If this is weird, then I’ll just say goodbye and hang up.”

  It took him another second to realize what she was saying. “You want me to come out to your place?” he said. She was the kind of girl he didn’t normally hang around with.

  “Okay, I told you it was crazy. I’m just…you were there, and—”

  “Sure, I’ll come by,” he said. He didn’t kn
ow why, knowing he had things to do, namely letting his brother know about yet another deadbeat not willing to pay. They weren’t broke, but keeping the cash flowing was as necessary as breathing. “When?” he asked as he walked around the corner to where he’d parked his car.

  “Well, how about now, if you’re not busy?”

  He could go home and face his brother, or he could see the pretty girl he’d saved, whom he should stay away from. He hesitated a second, taking in the street and the work he could be doing. “Shoot, give me the address.”

  “Really? That’s great.”

  She rattled off the address, and he thought of where that was, like twenty minutes out of town, in a part of the countryside where he’d never been. What was he doing? If he was smart, he’d call her back and cancel, but he opened his door, climbed in, and started his car.

  Instead of going left to go home, he turned right to the highway that would lead out of town.

  Chapter 9

  Andy was watching his daughter on the phone with Devon.

  “You surprise me sometimes, Andy,” Laura said, and he wasn’t sure what to make of that.

  “Why?”

  “Your daughter asked you for Devon’s phone number, and you didn’t give her the third degree.”

  What was he supposed to say, no? Even though he wanted to lock her up so no one could hurt her again, Devon was the guy who’d saved her. “She probably just wants to thank him. I certainly would,” he said. At the same time, he was having a lot of trouble getting his head around the fact that his daughter could look like the bad guy when she was the one who’d been attacked. Sometimes, the law and the way it worked made absolutely no sense.