Page 79 of Bedroom Therapy

Chapter Fifteen

For Amanda, the next few hours passed in a blur. The St. Stephens cops called the State Police, who arrived and inspected the “crime scene.” She supposed that’s what it was called. Then she and Zach separately told what had happened.

After that, they had to go down to the police barracks and make formal statements. Zach shepherded her through the process, but she sensed that he was distancing himself from her.

On the way home, he hardly said a word to her. She slid him a sidewise glance, wanting to stretch out her hand and lay it over his. But she didn’t, because she felt like she couldn’t reach him. Not now.

She wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing at the window watching her and Tony Anderson inside the abandoned house. But she knew he’d seen at least some of what the stalker had done to her. And she knew there were men who would react very negatively to that. They wouldn’t want a relationship with a woman who’d been mauled by someone else—even if it wasn’t her fault.

She knew she and Zach needed to talk, but every time she tried to think of what to say, the words froze in her throat.

He pulled up at the house, and they silently got out of the car, then stood awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen.

Because she couldn’t deal with the look of tension on his face, she said, “I think maybe I’d like to take a shower.”

“I understand,” he said stiffly. “But Beth called. She was worried about you, and you should tell her you’re okay.”

“Lord, I forgot all about her. Of course, you’re right.” Rushing to the phone, she punched in her friend’s home number.

Beth answered on the first ring. “Amanda! I’ve been sitting by the phone, hoping you’d call. Did you get my message? Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She sucked in a breath and let it out, wondering how much to say. Then she realized that it was probably going to make the papers in New York, since Esther was from there. “Now, don’t get worried,” she said.

“Amanda, what happened?”

“That guy—Tony Anderson—he came after me. But. . . but Zach rescued me.”

He was standing to her right, and she could see his face contort, but he said nothing.

“Where’s Anderson? Is he still a threat?” Beth asked.

“Zach shot him. He’s dead.”

As she heard the strangled exclamation on the other end of the line, she sank down onto one of the barstools at the kitchen counter. “It’s okay. Honest, It worked out okay,”

“Were you there when . . . when it happened?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my God. I got you into this, didn’t I?”

“Beth, it is not your fault,” she responded, and then launched into an explanation of what had happened.

It took twenty minutes to reassure her friend. And she had to make a promise that she’d call the next day.

“You look exhausted,” Zach said when she got off the phone.

“We’ll talk later,” she answered in a tight voice, then hurried down the hall to the bathroom.

She had used up all her emotional energy for the moment, and she wanted to be alone. She didn’t want any surprises, so she carefully locked the door. After turning on the water in the shower, she stripped off her clothing, then stepped under the spray—turning it up as hot as she could stand.

She stayed under the pounding water for a long time, soaping herself—then doing it again, trying to wash away the feel of Tony Anderson’s hands on her body. She knew the need was irrational. He was dead. And really, he’d hardly done anything to her, compared to what she knew could have happened. Compared to what she knew had been done to other women. But she couldn’t stifle the need to cleanse herself.

When she was finally ready to emerge from the bathroom, she slipped into the terry- cloth robe she’d left on the back of the door and stood with her hand on the knob for a moment. Maybe she’d misread Zach. Maybe he was thinking he should give her some space. Maybe she should get dressed and go look for him.

Crossing to her bedroom, she stopped short in the doorway.

She’d had an image of the room in her mind. The love cave that Zach had created for their mutual pleasure. But while she’d been in the bathroom, he had apparently been working at lightning speed to destroy that image.

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