that night, Charlotte was finally able to intake enough water to soothe her dry throat. It still hurt to talk and breathe as her throat felt scratchy and tender. John had attempted to feed her hospital special lime Jell-O. The taste was rancid but welcome as her stomach growled in agony at the hunger. She was beyond blessed with John and couldn’t believe her luck. Had John not come home when he did, surely she would have been dead.
A knock at the door startled her and Charlotte briefly flashed back to the light tapping at her apartment door, the tapping that started her attack. Without noticing Charlotte flinch John opened the door to admit to New York City detectives, whom were impeccably dressed.
“I’m Detective Jonathan Wire and this is my partner Elizabeth King. We are investigating the attack on you and would like to ask you some questions if you don’t mind.” The detectives waited with stern, unemotional looks and ridged stances.
Charlotte wasn’t sure she could answer any questions with the way her throat felt, not to mention she had patches of what happened and it was driving her crazy not knowing who or what had hit her. Reluctantly, Charlotte nodded her head and gestured her hand for the chair closest to the window, the one John had been warming for the last few days. Elizabeth King sat and thanked Charlotte for her kindness, she seemed to be the softer out of the partnership, a welcome trait Charlotte needed right now. Her partner however declined a seat and decided to stand while slightly rolling his eyes at his partner.
“Can you tell us what day it is Ms. Jackson?” Detective Wire spoke sternly and waited for Charlotte’s answer. He was surely a man to get straight down to business. Both detectives were well dressed. Mr. Wire was approximately 45 years old, with salt and pepper hair. He wore a Men’s Warehouse suit with sliver and blue cuff links, colors for the police field Charlotte assumed. He stood at an impressive 6”4” and his black dress shoes were well shined, an impressive feat for the cold rainy weather of New York City in November.
Ms. King wore dark blue pants, an eggplant purple silk dress shirt and a matching dark blue suit jacket. Her badge was seen only in certain movements that hung on her belt at her right hip, near her gun. Her hem line was starch pressed and showed off her long slender legs. She was approximately 5’ 9” with long silky brown hair that hung over her shoulders and reached approximately to her elbow. She was gorgeous to say the least. Her demeanor and aura had a don’t mess with me stance but with a soft edge that made her approachable.
“It’s Thursday, I think.” Charlotte answered, her voice low and crackled. “I don’t remember much, I’m not sure I can help you.” Charlotte’s tears began to fall at her frustration of not remembering. John jumped in standing next to Charlotte in a defensive move. “You can’t come in here and upset her, she’s only been awake for less than two days, for Christ’s sake.” John was firm and trying to control her emptions as he came to her defense.
This time it was Detective King that spoke. “Sir, I am sure you are protective of your wife, but we need to speak with her while the information is fresh in her mind. We know this is hard but it’s highly important and we need to try and catch the creep who almost killed her. Please allow us to do our job.” Charlotte noticed that John did not correct the detective when she called her his wife, Charlotte touched John’s arm and nodded softly. That made John stand down from his post and sit back by her bedside, holding her hand in sweet support. Charlotte heart swelled with his protectiveness and courage to always be by her side. In that moment Charlotte knew she wanted to marry her knight.
“I don’t remember what happened Detectives. All I remember is a light knocking at the door and when I went to answer it I saw… I saw… I.. I don’t
A knock at the door startled her and Charlotte briefly flashed back to the light tapping at her apartment door, the tapping that started her attack. Without noticing Charlotte flinch John opened the door to admit to New York City detectives, whom were impeccably dressed.
“I’m Detective Jonathan Wire and this is my partner Elizabeth King. We are investigating the attack on you and would like to ask you some questions if you don’t mind.” The detectives waited with stern, unemotional looks and ridged stances.
Charlotte wasn’t sure she could answer any questions with the way her throat felt, not to mention she had patches of what happened and it was driving her crazy not knowing who or what had hit her. Reluctantly, Charlotte nodded her head and gestured her hand for the chair closest to the window, the one John had been warming for the last few days. Elizabeth King sat and thanked Charlotte for her kindness, she seemed to be the softer out of the partnership, a welcome trait Charlotte needed right now. Her partner however declined a seat and decided to stand while slightly rolling his eyes at his partner.
“Can you tell us what day it is Ms. Jackson?” Detective Wire spoke sternly and waited for Charlotte’s answer. He was surely a man to get straight down to business. Both detectives were well dressed. Mr. Wire was approximately 45 years old, with salt and pepper hair. He wore a Men’s Warehouse suit with sliver and blue cuff links, colors for the police field Charlotte assumed. He stood at an impressive 6”4” and his black dress shoes were well shined, an impressive feat for the cold rainy weather of New York City in November.
Ms. King wore dark blue pants, an eggplant purple silk dress shirt and a matching dark blue suit jacket. Her badge was seen only in certain movements that hung on her belt at her right hip, near her gun. Her hem line was starch pressed and showed off her long slender legs. She was approximately 5’ 9” with long silky brown hair that hung over her shoulders and reached approximately to her elbow. She was gorgeous to say the least. Her demeanor and aura had a don’t mess with me stance but with a soft edge that made her approachable.
“It’s Thursday, I think.” Charlotte answered, her voice low and crackled. “I don’t remember much, I’m not sure I can help you.” Charlotte’s tears began to fall at her frustration of not remembering. John jumped in standing next to Charlotte in a defensive move. “You can’t come in here and upset her, she’s only been awake for less than two days, for Christ’s sake.” John was firm and trying to control her emptions as he came to her defense.
This time it was Detective King that spoke. “Sir, I am sure you are protective of your wife, but we need to speak with her while the information is fresh in her mind. We know this is hard but it’s highly important and we need to try and catch the creep who almost killed her. Please allow us to do our job.” Charlotte noticed that John did not correct the detective when she called her his wife, Charlotte touched John’s arm and nodded softly. That made John stand down from his post and sit back by her bedside, holding her hand in sweet support. Charlotte heart swelled with his protectiveness and courage to always be by her side. In that moment Charlotte knew she wanted to marry her knight.
“I don’t remember what happened Detectives. All I remember is a light knocking at the door and when I went to answer it I saw… I saw… I.. I don’t
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