Sworn to Protect Read online

  “And she helped uncover it?”

  “Yeah.”

  Iris nodded and fell into reflective silence again. Iris was a smart woman. He could guess that she was thinking of what Dr. Seryn might uncover of that night. He’d been so sure this was the right thing to do but he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for the cost. Could Iris handle what was uncovered? He couldn’t be certain but something told him that she could. If not for herself, then for Sierra.

  They pulled into a leaf-strewn driveway and parked alongside an A-frame cottage. Iris unbuckled her seat belt and looked inquiringly at Sundance. “This is it? She works out of her home?”

  “She has a studio out back,” he answered, stepping out of the Bronco. “Like I said, this is a side job for her. Like a hobby, I guess.”

  “Odd hobby,” Iris murmured, her nerves strung taut, but she followed Sundance as he headed toward the detached studio behind the home. She kept Sierra’s face in her memory, reminding her that something bigger than herself was at stake because if she didn’t, she would’ve returned to her Bronco and drove home like the wind.

  They entered through a white-washed Dutch door into a comfortable studio apartment that spoke of relaxation and tranquility. A large fountain burbled in the corner, surrounded by lush potted plants of every variety, overly large, sumptuous throw pillows made from soft cotton lay on a plush chaise and mild strains of violin floated in from invisible speakers.

  It was all perfectly lovely—and Iris wanted to bolt.

  “Welcome.” A cheery, smiling blonde looked up from her notebook as they walked in. She stood. “You must be Iris. Sundance has told me very nice things about you.”

  Iris’s brow rose. What sort of things? She shot Sundance a quick look but she didn’t have time for much else because the doctor had clasped Iris’s hand in a tight but reassuring gesture as she introduced herself.

  “I’m Dr. Emily Seryn, but you can certainly call me Emily if you prefer. Sometimes the whole doctor thing can be off-putting. Please, take a seat. Let’s get acquainted.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Emily,” Iris murmured, avoiding the chaise and taking a seat in the oversize chair. Sundance followed her lead and sat in the corresponding seat. She let her stare flit around the room in an attempt to find something else to talk about aside from what she was really there to talk about. But it didn’t matter if she babbled on about the weather or the expensive art on the walls. Eventually they’d find their way to what the doctor was paid to do, so Iris drew a deep breath and jumped in. “How does this work?”

  Emily smiled. “I appreciate your straightforward manner. That will work in your favor because you want to get to the root of things. Some people come here wanting to magically find the answers to their problems but aren’t willing to do the hard work to find what they seek. I sense you’re not that kind of person.”

  Iris accepted the praise. She prided herself on her work ethic and she supposed taking on this challenge was no different from anything else she’d undertaken in her life. She wouldn’t back down, no matter how hard she was shaking. She looked to Sundance. “Do you stay during the session?” she asked.

  Emily answered for him. “No. The sessions are private. Today’s meeting is simply to get to know one another, so that you feel comfortable coming on your own.”

  “Oh.” Iris felt the tension drain from her shoulders but she was oddly disappointed, too. “I guess that’s a good idea,” she conceded, admitting, “I was trying to psych myself up for whatever was going to happen today. False alarm.” She gave a short, rueful laugh. “Is everyone this nervous their first time?”

  Emily laughed, the sound easy and without judgment. “It depends. I think most people who’ve had no experience with hypnosis fear that somehow they’re going to end up being persuaded to do something out of character like barking like a dog or squawking like a chicken the way they do in those Vegas shows but it’s not really like that. When you get away from the stage entertainment, it’s basically about altering your brain waves to achieve a hyperrelaxed state. Think of your brain as a giant computer capable of storing billions of bits of data, some of it stored in areas not readily accessed by your conscious mind. The power to do anything is tucked away in your mind, as are details you might’ve forgotten or buried.” Iris swallowed. She feared the buried bits in her head. Emily continued, her voice steady and calm but with an undercurrent of compassion. “Sundance has told me of your ordeal. I’ve worked with victims of violent attacks and together we’ve achieved a satisfying level of success. I would like the opportunity to help you navigate what you’re going through.”

  “I—I’m fine. I need help remembering so Sundance can catch whoever did this to me and another person, a teenage girl I’ve known since she was a baby.”

  “Yes, Sundance told me. And we’ll do what we can to unlock those blank spots in your mind. But I can help you with other aspects of your trauma, as well.”

  And allow someone to poke around in her head for longer than was necessary? No thanks. Iris smiled. “I appreciate your offer but I just want to find something useful for Sundance and then put all of this behind me.”

  “Very good then,” Emily said, though her tone made Iris suspicious. It was as if she were agreeing only because she knew, in time, Iris would change her mind. Well, Emily seemed like a very nice woman but there was no way Iris was going to change her mind on that score.

  They chatted a bit more, getting to know one another and by the time Iris and Sundance left, Iris felt more comfortable with the idea of coming on her own. She agreed to see Emily the following week.

  “She’s real nice,” Iris said as they climbed into the Bronco to leave. “She has a way about her that’s very… Zen-like. Does that sound weird?”

  “No. That’s Emily. She has a gift for relaxing people. Mya said in med school Emily was one of the only students the anatomy professor couldn’t bully because she managed to turn him into jelly with her voice.” Sundance broke out into a smile, his full mouth tilting in a way that made her notice how soft and sensitive his lips were. Iris looked away, discomfited with the train of her thoughts. “Are you okay?” he asked, noting her sudden change in mood.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You say that a lot,” he said. “But the more you say it, the less I believe it. Talk to me, Iris. I’ll listen.”

  “Why?” she countered, mentally telling herself to shut up but her mouth wouldn’t listen. “Why would you listen? Why are you being so…caring all of a sudden? Don’t you recall that we don’t like each other? We never have? I mean, I can remember plenty of times when we’ve both said some mean things to one another and I’m pretty sure neither one of us was sorry for it, either.” Of course, she knew the answer but she wished it were something deeper, like Mya said. A frustrated well of sadness swamped her. “It’s the case. You’re all about the job. It’s what you’re good at and that’s okay—”

  “Iris—”

  “No, really, I understand. I just wish…” She bit her lip in time before she blurted out what was really making her heart beat erratically, but she wished she had the guts to throw her feelings out there. “Oh, crap. Never mind.” She took a corner too fast and the Bronco skidded a little on the wet asphalt. She hadn’t lost control of the vehicle but it was enough to cause her to take notice of her speed and the fact that Sundance was white-knuckling the handle above his head.

  “I’m sorry—”

  “Pull over.” It wasn’t a polite request, it was a demand. “Now.”

  “Calm down,” she groused, not about to take orders. It was her car. If he’d wanted to drive he should’ve offered to take his Durango. Oh, wait, he had. She shrugged off that last thought. “Stop being such a wuss. I’ve slowed down.”

  “You’re driving like a maniac. Pull over before you kill us both.”

  She shot him an incredulous look, surprised when she saw how serious he was. Unbelievable. Even more unbelievable was that she was doing it. She pu
lled onto the gravel shoulder and let the Bronco idle in neutral. The rain, a steady drizzle, kept the wipers going at a continuous pace. “What now?” she asked, annoyed at him for being such a baby and herself for being so reckless. She supposed she had taken that corner too fast. Maybe he was right. Her hands were shaking again. She fisted her palms in an effort to will the quake away but it didn’t work. Suddenly, his hands covered hers, causing her to jump slightly. Her knee-jerk reaction was to pull away but when she caught Sundance’s stare she stilled.

  “I didn’t offer to listen because of the case,” he said quietly. The sharp odor of wet soil and evergreen mingled with the scent she associated with Sundance. Together they created a spicy mix that made her yearn for the simplicity of the days before the attack. The old Iris might’ve leaned over and sampled those lips without reservation. Or maybe she might not have. She wasn’t sure any longer. So, she remained paralyzed with his hands covering hers, wondering what to do. When he was sure he had her attention, he continued somberly, “I offered because I want to. You’re right, we haven’t always been civil to each other but things have changed.”

  “What’s changed?” she whispered. “Because I was attacked? I don’t want your pity, or anyone else’s.”

  “I could never pity you. Pity is reserved for weaklings and cowards. You’re neither of those things. You’re a warrior, Iris. If nothing else, I respect that.”

  If nothing else… Tears stung her eyes. She wanted more than his respect but how could she hope for more when she had nothing to give in return? She withdrew her hands and gripped the steering wheel. He pulled away and she sensed a change. She couldn’t blame him. She felt as frigid as a meat locker inside. “I apologize for driving so carelessly. I’ll slow down, ’kay?”

  He sighed and looked away. “I’d appreciate that. Living to see tomorrow is high on my list.”

  “Ha.” She smirked, though it took effort. “Humor is good. When all else fails, if you haven’t lost your ability to laugh, you still have a chance.”

  “A chance at what?”

  “Hell if I know. I never understood that saying.” She pulled onto the road and in an effort to avoid the awkward silence, she switched on the radio.

  And for the rest of the ride, classic rock took the place of painful conversation.

  Deep inside in her chest, something keened while another part of her seethed with rage over what had been taken from her and from every woman who’d ever had the power over her body ripped away by another.

  She sent a silent prayer to Great Spirit for peace—and if not peace—vengeance.

  Surely, that wasn’t too much to ask?

  Chapter 13

  Sundance went over his notes on the rape cases, looking for clues he might’ve missed the first go around. He’d since talked with Brett Duncan’s wife, who had, as expected, verified her husband’s alibi. That brought him back to square one.

  Iris and Sierra had been beaten, which suggested rage. There’d been no epithelials beneath either woman’s fingernails when Mya had done the scrapings, and while the DNA analysis had yet to return from the Department of Justice labs, there’d been no sign of semen.

  He sifted through his research on rapist profiles looking for anything that stood out in similarity. If rape was an act of control, the attacker sought to find control over something he ordinarily wouldn’t have. Was the man a loner? Someone who couldn’t get women? Perhaps someone who was awkward and socially backward? Sundance’s instinct told him the attacker had been incensed that Iris had dared to fight back even after the dose of ketamine. Maybe that’s why he’d given Sierra such a big dose of ketamine—he’d wanted to be sure Sierra couldn’t lift a finger to stop him. But why had he brutalized the poor girl so badly? Perhaps he’d been irritated by something else, and he’d taken out his frustration on her helpless body. Who knows?

  What were the similarities? Sundance searched for the answer. Both women were attractive, highly so. Both were spunky and charismatic. Almost larger than life. Perhaps the attacker harbored a deep fear of women, particularly women who seemed out of his league. Was it only Native American women?

  Picking up the phone, he placed a call to the neighboring reservation where it went to voice mail. He left a message and tried another reservation. Washington State was dotted with tribal land and he didn’t think he’d have much luck calling every tribal office in the hopes of stumbling on something, but he was at his wit’s end by now and nearing desperation.

  Each day that went by was a day that the attacker got away with his crime. And that curdled his stomach.

  His cell phone went off and he saw that Mya was calling.

  “What’s up, sis?” he asked, checking off the last reservation he’d called, getting ready to move on to the next.

  “I thought you might like to know that Sierra is no longer catatonic. She’s talking. Did you want to take her statement?”

  Hell yes, he did. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  True to his word, within ten minutes he was striding down the hall toward Sierra’s room. He wasn’t surprised to see Iris there by the teen’s bedside. James stood by the window, his shoulders tense. Sundance suspected this would be very difficult for James to hear and his tension would only make it worse for Sierra.

  “James, why don’t you go take a walk outside for a bit,” he suggested, to which James shook his head resolutely, no.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” Sierra said, her voice small. “I’d rather you step outside, please. I don’t want you to hear.”

  James looked stricken and ready to protest but he finally understood that Sundance’s request had been a mercy for them both and jerked a short nod before saying, “You holler if you need me. I’ll just be outside the door.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  Iris rose as if to leave but Sierra caught her hand. “Please stay,” she pleaded, her big brown eyes wide pools of fear and vulnerability. Sierra turned to Sundance. “Is it okay if she stays?”

  “Of course,” he answered, feeling an all-over-body sadness for this young girl and what she was going through. It only served to push him harder. He swore privately he’d find who did this. But for the moment, he had to take her statement, no matter how difficult. He, for one, was glad Iris agreed to stay. He wasn’t great with tears and he could tell Sierra’s weren’t far from the surface.

  Iris patted Sierra’s hand with reassurance. “You remember Sundance, right? He’s the tribal officer and he’s going to write down the events as you remember them.”

  “What if I don’t remember a lot? Will you still be able to catch him?” she asked.

  “I’ll do my best,” he promised.

  Sierra nodded, looking to Iris for strength. She drew a deep breath as if bolstering herself and waited for Sundance to begin the questioning.

  He flipped his notepad and with pen poised, said, “Sierra, tell me from the beginning what you remember.”

  “I closed that night. Vince was supposed to close with me but he blew me off for some party.”

  “How long have you and Vince dated?”

  “Almost six months. He was the first guy willing to wait…” Tears welled in her eyes and Sundance looked to Iris for help. She wordlessly complied, handing Sierra a tissue with an understanding smile. Sierra accepted the tissue and wiped at her eyes and nose. “Anyway, so it was just me closing that night. The parking lot was empty and even though I told Duke only one streetlamp in the parking lot worked, he hadn’t fixed the other two yet so it was pretty dark. But I always parked near the working streetlamp because my dad said it was safer. I got to my car and got in. The next thing I knew something sharp had poked me in the arm.”

  “We didn’t find a syringe in the car but your arm did have a puncture wound,” Sundance said. “Did you see who had injected you?”

  Sierra shook her head. “He was behind me. He’d put his arm around my throat and held me against the h-headrest. He had a funny smell, like balloons.” She choked
on the memory, her voice going choppy and tight. “H-he smelled my hair and k-kissed my temple. I tried to remember what I’d been taught in my self-defense class but my mind went blank. I was so scared.”

  Iris murmured soothing words to calm Sierra who’d begun to sob into her hands. He waited until Iris had managed to stem the tide of tears. Sierra blew her nose and apologized but Sundance said, “No apologies are needed, sweetheart. If you need to cry, go ahead.” She nodded and Iris squeezed her hand in encouragement. “Take all the time you need,” he said.

  Sierra wiped her nose before continuing. “The drug worked pretty fast. Within minutes I couldn’t move my arms and legs. He dragged me out of the car and slung me over his shoulder. The last thing I saw was my car and the forest floor.”

  Sierra looked utterly defeated that she had so little by the way of details to share, and another tear slipped down her cheek. Iris wiped it away, saying gently, “This wasn’t your fault. You’re doing the best that you can and that’s good enough.”

  Sundance pictured the scene in his head. Frowning, he said, “Sierra…did you see his shoes?”

  Sierra searched her memory while wiping her nose. After a moment, she answered slowly, as if retrieving the detail with difficulty. “Yeah, he wore fancy ones, like something you’d wear to an office,” she said. “Does that mean something?”

  “It all means something,” he assured the teen, sharing a look with Iris, wondering if she was thinking what he was thinking. When he and Mya had cataloged Iris’s wounds and bruises, they’d taken a photograph of a bruise likely caused by a shoe on her thigh. There hadn’t been any ridges in the shoe impression, which meant it hadn’t been a hiking boot or a tennis shoe. He’d suspected a dress shoe. The fact that Sierra remembered the dress shoes specifically sealed his theory that the two attacks were related. He returned to Sierra. “Do you remember anything else? Did he wear cologne? Did his breath smell like anything in particular?”