Dirty (4 page)

             
He followed her tracks to the edge of the forest.
Shit
! She’d run into the woods. It was as black as tar tonight. He ran back to his truck to retrieve a powerful high output flashlight. Liver followed at his heels

             
Running back to the woods where he’d tracked her he aimed the light at the ground. He nodded at Liver and let him lead the way. The path she’d taken was clearly defined given the recent rains and they followed it in earnest. His phone rang—the sound loud among the otherwise quiet night.

             
“Hello.”

             
“Where are you?”

             
“Jess. Are you with Mrs. Roland?”

             
“She’s in the car with Riley. I’m at the door, but it’s locked.”

             
“Why are you at the house?”

             
“I need to change clothes.”

             
“Wear what you wore to school. Stay with Mrs. Roland. I’ve got a little problem.”

             
“Are you okay?”

             
“I’m fine. Will you stay with Mrs. Roland? I’ll pick you up from her house.”

             
“Okay.”

             
“Bye.”

             
“Hey Sawyer?”

             
“Yeah?”

             
“I love you. Be careful.”

             
“Jess. Love you.”

             
His sister’s admission choked him up. As he followed Liver across Courtney’s footsteps he thought of his little family and why he worked so many jobs. They were the reason he never had any time or money, and yet he wouldn’t trade them for all the time and money in the world.

             
The footpath led him to a river. Reflections made by the flashlight revealed a slow moving low banked river. They picked up the footsteps again a little to his right and he followed them due west until they turned slightly north. They rounded bend after bend and Sawyer started to worry. Then he spotted her against a tree, her head resting on her shoulder. He went to her. Kneeling he felt the pulse point at her neck. It was strong. Her eyes blinked awake, and then fixed in place, shocked.

             
She slumped into his arms.

             
“Courtney, are you hurt?”

             
He could see she was a mess. Her dress had been torn, her face swollen from bugs and possibly force. He lifted her into his arms and carried her through the woods. Mosquitoes were attacking her sweet skin. “I’m sorry. I should have gone with you. I could have done that.”

             
She was asleep and in shock. She heard nothing. He placed her in his truck and waved the mosquitoes away. He spotted a tick on her neck and refrained from pulling it with his fingers, for fear it would burrow. Liver winced. “I know buddy.”

             
Under the dim light of the truck cabin, confirmation was made that her face had been bruised on one side. His palm rested on the bruised skin. “I’m so sorry.”

             
He buckled her in, and then went inside to retrieve her purse, shoes, and the torn pieces of her dress. He wanted to lock the house, but didn’t see keys anywhere so he left  it unbolted. Driving to the emergency room he prayed that she’d be okay. He’d stay with her, he owed her that.

             
As soon as he carried her through the emergency room doors, a nurse was there with a wheelchair. He related the story and Nurse Peterson called a policewoman to get Courtney’s story. Sawyer sat in the waiting room feeling helpless as did the countless others who awaited updates about loved ones. He telephoned Mrs. Roland who suggested the girls stay with her for the night. He checked on Liver and waited through two hours of insipid reality television before he was called back.

             
“Mr. Murphy, I’m Dr. Chambers, this is Sergeant Lewis.”

             
He nodded at the female doctor and sergeant.

             
“Courtney is doing well. She was in shock when you brought her in, but we cleaned her up and she’s been prescribed some anxiety medication. I’d like to release her into your care, but Sergeant Lewis has some questions for you.”

             
Sergeant Lewis nodded. “Courtney told me she was showing a house to a client—Eric Houseman. Have you ever seen him?”

             
“No.”

             
“Do you know what time she left to show the home?”

             
“It was around two forty-five.”

             
“And when did you begin to search for her?”

             
“Around five-thirty her secretary came into the shop and asked if we’d seen her. Immediately I knew something must have gone wrong. You see, she’d asked me to accompany her to the showing.”

             
“She didn’t mention that.”

             
“Well she did. She’d shown him a house before and said she felt uncomfortable around this guy. I just feel terrible for not going with her. I should have.”

             
Sergeant Lewis placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’s going to be fine.”

             
“Is she?”

             
“Yes.”

             
“I’ll let her tell you the details.”

             
He told Sergeant Lewis how he found the home and about the pieces of dress and shoes. She took them from him as evidence, and then he was escorted to her exam room where he found her dressed in a hospital gown and socks, and sitting in a wheelchair.

             
She smiled at him. “I bet this isn’t how you wanted to spend your evening.”

             
“It’s okay, I like hospitals.” Frowning at his own comment, he then tried to offer a smile, but couldn’t. As he took in her bruised face he was heartbroken.

             
“I’m sorry to have kept you out all night. You can call one of my brothers to come get me. They should be home by now.”

             
“Please, I’d like to look after you.”

             
“You don’t have to do that.”

             
“I do. I need to.”

             
Nurse Peterson escorted them out to his waiting truck. Courtney climbed in, and then they were given a prescription. While the nurse spoke with him, he heard Courtney returning calls to Perla and Clara who’d both called several times for an update.

             
He piled in quietly beside her. “Where do you get your prescriptions filled?”

             
“At Duke’s.”

             
Liver shook, making known his presence in the backseat.

             
“Oh, it’s your dog.”

             
“Yes.” He drove quietly. Eventually he heard the little whimpers that she tried to hide. He pulled off the road and slid across the seat, pulling her into his arms. “I’m sorry Courtney. Can you ever forgive me?”

             
She swiped at her cheeks. “For what?”

             
“For not escorting you when you asked.”

             
“You were at work Sawyer. Anyway, you came after me. I’m alive because of you.”

             
“I should have gone with you.”

             
“Please, let’s just forget it.” Her tight set mouth belied her unwavering state of mind.

             
“Do you want me to get your prescription filled?”

             
“No. I don’t need it.”

             
“I’ll take you home then. Where to?”

             
She nodded and closed her eyes tightly. Tears began to flow. He rocked her gently. “Tell me what I can do for you.”

             
“I don’t want to go home.” She rubbed her nose against his chest.

             
“Where do you want to go?”

             
“Can we go to your place?” Her bright blue eyes sparkled at him.

             
“We can. It’s not very fancy.”

             
“I’m not feeling so fancy right now.”

             
He moved over to the driver’s seat and pulled her with him. With her head on his shoulder he drove. She burrowed deeper into his side, so he placed his arm around her, securing her to him.

             
“I’ve got frozen pizza and popsicles. If you’d like something else we should stop.”

             
“Frozen pizza and popsicles sound heavenly.”

             
He giggled. “Okay. But you had your chance.”

             
“I only take chances when I have to.”

***

             
They walked through a waist high iron fence. Liver took off running. Sawyer’s home was lovely. Sure it was small and old, but it had been updated quite nicely.

             
“Let me turn on the lights.”

             
He left her side, and in a few moments the home was awash in light from a single lantern that was hung from the porch ceiling. The small porch greeted Courtney cheerfully. Between two tall narrow windows sat an iron bench that she could imagine him sitting on and reading the newspaper because he definitely seemed like the newspaper reading type. A dog’s nose appeared in one of the windows, and then his whine could be heard. She laughed at the pathetic sound.

             
“That’s just Liver, he’s got his own special door.”

             
Neglected planters were overrun with weeds, but still provided some green to the canvas. “Your home is inviting and pleasant.”

             
“Thanks.” He carried her purse and hospital bag, which hindered his ability to do anything quickly. She knew her purse was large, but the sight of him placing it on his shoulder made her giggle because it looked absolutely ridiculous.

             
“What’s so funny?”

             
“You with my purse.”

             
“Oh.” He smiled. “I do love Calvin Klein armor.”

             
“It’s Michael Kors.”

             
“I think it weighs ten pounds.” He patted the bag. When he finally managed to open the door he gestured her through. “Make yourself at home. I’ll start on the pizza.”

             
Liver attacked his owner, spinning in circles and standing with his front paws on Sawyer’s chest as if he hadn’t seen him in days. He had a friendly face and excitable countenance as he ran away and came back with a yellow ball. “I can’t do the ball right now buddy.”

             
Liver sat on his heels and whined. “No. Go outside.” Liver eyed Courtney with suspicion as he slowly walked to the back door. A beep was heard and then he walked through the doggie door portion of the door.

             
Rich hardwood flooring that wasn’t quite finished made the rooms warm. The living room was separated from the kitchen by a small fireplace that stood in the center of the home. The chimney was red brick with white mortar and extended all the way to the ceiling. The firebox was open to both rooms. The effect was magnificent and she could imagine the coziness of the space with a small fire in the wintertime. The kitchen was small, but had been updated somewhat. Large holes existed where a dishwasher would go, along with an oven.

             
“Did you do all the work yourself?”

             
“I did. Obviously I haven’t yet finished.” He used a counter top toaster oven to heat a personal sized pizza. “Most of the materials were left over from various construction jobs I’ve had. Unfortunately no appliances have made their way out to the dumpster area.” He frowned.

             
“I’ve seen hundreds of houses and I think your work is original and quite fine.”

             
“Thank you.”

             
In front of a window near the kitchen was a console table. On the table was a yellow dollhouse. If she wasn’t mistaken the home was made to look like the very one she stood in. “I especially like your dollhouse.”

             
“That belongs to my sister.”

             
“Is it a replica of this house?”

             
“It is.”