Page 39 of Justice Denied

Her concern for his wellbeing warmed his heart. Surely the fear in her eyes meant she cared for him more than a friend, but he’d tuck that away to exam later. Right now, he needed to know what had happened during his run with Bingley.

“Ms. Ainsley?” Trevor came over and stood by the mantel. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened?”

She reached for Seth’s hand, and he willingly gave it to her, noting the same black residue around her wrists, which had pink welts. The sight made him firm his lips to keep from blurting out his anger at the intruder, who must have bound her wrists and mouth with duct tape. If only he hadn’t gone for the run or hadn’t been vain enough to want to clean up a little before returning Bingley, she might have been spared this. Once again, his inability to think about someone else before himself had resulted in someone he cared about being hurt. It was a lesson he seemed doomed to repeat, but one he vowed he would master before something serious happened to Jetta.

* * *

Jetta grippedSeth’s hand as if it were a lifeline. And maybe it was because she couldn’t stop crying because of what that masked man had done. When he’d come up behind her while she washed the breakfast dishes, she hadn’t had time to scream before a piece of duct tape slapped across her mouth silenced her. Then he’d roughly shoved her onto a chair and duct taped her hands together in front of her before wrapping her ankles to the two front chair legs.

Terror had nearly made her pass out as images from her ex’s assault mixed with the morning’s attack. The masked man, his anonymous identity jacking her heart rate up even higher, had smiled when she’d peed her pants, her bladder no match for her willpower. The baby moved, rippling her stomach and reminding Jetta she had to hold it together for her little one’s sake. When the man had left her alone to search the house, if the sounds of doors opening and closing were any indication, she had prayed for Seth to come. But as the minutes dragged on, anxiety over what might happen when Seth did return had her frantic with worry.

Then she spotted the landline phone on the counter, a relict her mother insisted on keeping. The man had bound her hands in front of her, but her feet to the chair legs. If she could move close to the counter, she could grab the phone and call for help.

A crash above her told her the intruder was in one of the bedrooms. She wobbled the chair, rocking it enough to move it slowly across the floor. Once, she thought it would tip over, but her prayers were answered, and she stayed upright. Soon she had the phone and had dialed 911. Somehow, through the duct tape, she managed to convince the dispatcher it was an emergency. Bingley’s growl had alerted her to Seth’s return. As soon as the police officer had come into the kitchen and released her, she had insisted on changing out of her urine-soaked clothing before answering any questions. What she didn’t tell the cop was that she had no intention of discussing the incident until Seth was beside her. She needed his comforting presence to make it through the telling.

Now, holding his hand, she managed to get out the salient details of the attack.

“Once he had you secured, did he say anything?” The officer asked.

She’d forgotten his name, but he seemed to know Seth, which reassured her enough she could tell what happened. Now she frowned, struggling to recall the exact words he’d murmured in her ear. Her fear had sent blood rushing into her ears, making it difficult to hear what he was asking. That’s right, a question.

“He wanted to know where the papers were.” She was proud she remembered that much.

“What papers?”

Of course the cop would need to know specifics. “He didn’t say.” If he had, she would have gladly handed them over.

“I think it might be the papers you got in the mail,” Seth interjected. “He told me he was supposed to deliver a warning for us to back off our investigation into the embezzlement.”

The officer looked from Seth to Jetta. “I think you’d better start at the beginning.”

Four hours later, Jetta rubbed her wet hair with a towel. While she had showered already today, the need to wash away the man’s rough touch when he’d tied her up had driven her to take another one once the police had finished with forensics and their interviews. Because the man had worn gloves, she wasn’t surprised when the crime scene techs turned up nothing useful.

At her urging, Seth had gone to urgent care to get his arm looked at, since the EMT thought stitches might be necessary. He promised to return with soup from Panera, about all Jetta thought she could choke down. A call to her OB-GYN had reassured her that the baby should be fine, given she had only been tied up for a short period of time.

Seth’s revelation about the man’s warning shook her. Her mother’s desire to clear her father’s name had set off a chain of events no one had anticipated. Part of Jetta wanted to stop searching for the real embezzler, but another part—the louder voice—insisted that they had a right—no, a duty—to proceed because it was obvious Dad was innocent. Otherwise, why would someone care if they investigated or not? If Dad was guilty, then all they would find would be proof of his involvement.

Bingley’s bark alerted her that Seth must have returned.

“Jetta, it’s me.” His voice reassured her as did his intuition she would need to know who was in her house.

“I’ll be down in a second.” She swept her damp hair back into a ponytail, then went downstairs to find Seth unpacking containers on the counter. The scent of tomato basil soup triggered a growl from her stomach. Maybe she would be able to manage a bite or two after all.

Once the food had been laid out on the table, he said grace, then dug into his broccoli soup. They ate in silence. After a few bites, she pushed her container away. “What am I going to tell my mom?”

“The truth?” He spooned more soup into his mouth.

The way he said it sounded so simple. “She’ll be worried.”And I’ve already given her more than enough to worry about.

“Emily is tougher than you think.”

“You don’t know that.” Irritation crept into her tone.

“I know you’re scared.” His direct gaze, those amazing brown eyes seeing far too much, did little to quell her rising panic.

“Scared? You bet I’m scared. Someone broke into my house and assaulted me, all because I wanted to help my mom clear my dad’s name of something he didn’t do.”

“Do you want to quit looking for the embezzler?”

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