Nowhere Safe by Nancy Bush Page B

that read—”
    â€œYes, I know,” she snapped. “ I MUST PAY FOR WHAT I’VE DONE, or something. That’s what they said in the papers. But he wouldn’t cheat on me. I know it. Why won’t anyone believe me! This wasn’t role-playing. Someone killed my Chris!” Tears leapt to her eyes. They were all persecuting her. She was going to have to report them. Lodge a complaint at City Hall against the police. It was the only way to get them to leave her alone!
    The detective hesitated a moment and Janet could tell she was considering what to say next. She braced herself. She didn’t like this attractive young woman any more than she’d liked the older Chubb with his hangdog face and world-weary expression or the other woman detective who’d called on the phone.
    Rafferty closed the file. “There’s been another incident of a man drugged and tied to a pole. You may have seen it on the news.”
    Janet’s mouth dropped open on a gasp. “What? I don’t watch the news. I don’t even read the paper anymore! Who is this man? What are you saying?”
    â€œHis name’s Stefan Harmak and he was tied to a pole that holds up a basketball hoop on the Twin Oaks Elementary School grounds in Laurelton. Like your husband, he was stripped down to his boxer shorts, but the temperature’s much milder now, so he survived.”
    â€œOh, my God! ” She pressed a hand to her cheek. “What does this mean? Who’s doing this?”
    â€œMr. Harmak said a man accosted him, forced him to drink something that had the drug Rohypnol in it, commonly known as roofies, or the date-rape drug.”
    â€œRape?” Janet was horrified.
    â€œNeither Mr. Harmak nor your husband was raped,” the detective went on. “Mr. Harmak also had a placard placed around his neck. His said I WANT WHAT I CAN’T HAVE .”
    â€œWho is this man? Why is he doing this?” Janet could feel the hysteria rising in her voice.
    â€œWe believe someone targeted both your husband and Mr. Harmak specifically.”
    Something in her tone bothered Janet. Like she was blaming Chris for this. “I don’t like where this is going.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œYou think this is my husband’s fault. That he brought it on himself.”
    â€œI didn’t mean to give you that impression.”
    â€œDidn’t you?” Oh, they were all the same. She knew what they were thinking and it was like a hot needle in her brain. “I think I’ve answered all the questions I’m going to.”
    â€œI’m sorry you feel that way. This new case has opened up avenues into learning what happened to your husband.”
    The detective asked a few more questions, covering much the same ground, but Janet refused to answer in anything but monosyllables. She was also processing that this second guy tied up was going to throw more light on her husband’s death. Hadn’t they gone through enough? When did it ever end?
    Finally, the detective made as if she were going to leave. Janet glanced at the clock. It was after two.
    Go, she thought. Get out.
    â€œI would really like to talk to your son.”
    â€œOut of the question,” Janet snapped. “I don’t want my son involved in any part of this. He’s suffered enough.”
    â€œOur goal is to find out who did this to your husband,” the detective reminded her, as if Janet were a schoolgirl.
    â€œYou want to sensationalize it! That’s what you want. Chris Jr.’s only thirteen. He doesn’t know anything about this. Stay away from him,” she warned.
    The detective finally left after that and as the door closed behind her, Janet scurried to the front window and peeked through the curtains, watching her pull away from the curb in a silver SUV. Then she glanced down the street, wondering if anyone had seen the detective come to her door. Luckily, no one was