The Mercenary Next Door (Rogues and Rescuers Book 2), page 16
“Tell me why this happened.”
“I’m not sure.” Her hand fell to her side. “I told you Joseph hadn’t been around much, but when I tried to call him on it—on him not coming home—he would say he got caught up in frat business. Not always, though. Sometimes, he tried to convince me that he had come home. I am a sound sleeper, so he convinced me that I hadn’t heard him once or twice.
“Not that it mattered. Things weren’t good. I knew I had to leave. I just didn’t know how or when to tell him. That and I had final exams and papers due. In the last few weeks, I didn’t fight with him about the hours he kept. I tried not to talk to him at all. I just kept my head down and started taking extra shifts at work. I needed to save for a new apartment deposit.”
“So conceivably, he could have believed you two were okay?”
“No, he couldn’t possibly…” She trailed off, lapsing into silence.
“Why not?” he prompted after a minute.
“Because I wouldn’t sleep with him anymore,” she said after a long pause.
“Oh.” Mason was almost sorry he asked.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned that. Not about se—another guy,” she stumbled.
Mason reached out to take her hand. “Laila, he was your boyfriend. You lived with him. Your life went on after our night together. I understand.”
Moving on had been a natural step forward for her. He hated her being with another man. He hated the whole situation that led up to it, but he didn’t blame her. He wasn’t a hypocrite—it could have easily been him. If he hadn’t been so busy, he might have started seeing someone else too.
“Anyway,” she said. “That’s what set him off again.”
Mason froze. “Because you wouldn’t sleep with him?” he asked in a too-even voice.
“No!” Laila shook her head. “Not that. I meant I tried to call him out on not coming home the night before.”
She reached up to rub her temple. “I’m explaining this badly.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll talk until it makes sense.”
Laila made a little sound in the back of her throat. “The day before yesterday, I was writing my last term paper. I had finished all my other final exams and lab practicals. This paper is the very last thing I need for my associate degree in respiratory therapy. I stayed up all night finishing it. I was printing it on the office computer when I heard him come in. I didn’t want to talk to him, so I went to get ready for work instead of fighting it out then and there.”
“But you did later,” he guessed.
She nodded. “After I got home from work.”
“And?”
Laila put her hands up, her eyes focusing on nothing. “He exploded. I didn’t even see the slap coming. And weirdly enough, he seemed almost as shocked as I was.”
She raised a hand to her face as if she still couldn’t believe Joseph had struck her.
“I fell after he backhanded me,” she continued, her fingers tracing her swollen lip. “At first, I thought he was so angry because I said I was leaving.”
“But now you don’t think that was it?”
“No. Maybe.” She shrugged. “But he seemed more upset about the other thing—he kept insisting I was wrong about him not coming home that night. He kept arguing about it. He said I must have fallen asleep because he came home before one AM—that he slipped into the guest room so he wouldn’t disturb me and went jogging early that morning. That’s why I heard the door when I did. It was him coming back after a run.”
“All right,” he said slowly. “So, what’s he hiding? An affair?”
She shrugged. “That’s what I think. After all, he’s got a bedroom at the frat. His Alpha Omega brothers would never rat him out to me. Hell, they must get a kick out of it. They claim the Night Witches are ‘honored guests,’” she said, raiding her hands to make air quotes. “But secretly, they must love it that he hooks up with anyone he wants and gets away with it right under my nose.”
“That does make a kind of sense,” Mason murmured. But he wasn’t completely convinced.
Why would Dubey get violent about this on this occasion if it were something they’d argued about it before? Was it because Laila finally said she was leaving? But Dubey had to have seen that coming.
A few minutes later, Laila returned to bed, but Mason stayed up a little longer. Eventually, he crashed, too, deciding there wasn’t a great mystery to Joseph Dubey’s actions.
Some cowards didn’t need an excuse to abuse a woman. Laila trying to walk out on him would have been enough.
The question now was—what was Mason going to do about it?
Chapter Twenty-Five
After a nearly sleepless night, Laila woke and pulled jeans and a shirt out of the garbage bags of clothes she’d set on the closet shelves. She found Mason in the kitchen, cooking them a massive breakfast. Her appetite hadn’t been particularly good, but he watched her like a hawk, gently bullying her into eating. But she regretted it now. The two waffles she managed to choke down were sitting like bricks in her stomach as she waited for the doctor to finish examining her.
Mason had insisted she see one.
“I know you’re still thinking about whether to file a police report, and that’s fine,” he’d told her that morning. “But we have to go see a doctor today. You need X-rays. There might be a hairline fracture under those bruises, or worse.”
Laila had hesitated, knowing she’d have to go to campus to use the university’s health services. Joseph knew so many people she was worried word would get to him before her visit was over.
If that happened, Mason would wipe the floor with him. Joseph worked out and would likely hold his own against any of his frat brothers. But Mason was a trained soldier—elite and lethal. Joseph didn’t stand a chance. She couldn’t let it happen. Joe’s family had too much money, and far too many lawyers. Mason didn’t need that kind of trouble. Not for her sake.
However, her fears proved groundless. Mason didn’t take her to her health care provider. He took her to his.
The doctor’s office was housed in a small but sleek contemporary building that housed a mishmash of dental and medical offices. When they pulled into the parking lot, Mason told her that the doctor and his nurse, both under contract with his employers, were expecting them.
“These are private physicians,” he confided. “Auric is a big chunk of their business, so don’t worry. They have everything you could need—even a CT and an MRI scanner. Short of major surgery, they can do everything here.”
They shot the X-rays first. Then Laila was led away to an exam room while Mason stayed in the reception area, sitting military straight in one of the padded leather chairs.
He didn’t even bother picking up a magazine. Laila could feel his intense gaze on the back of her neck until they disappeared.
The physician, an older man with grey hair, seemed a little taken aback when he saw her, but he conducted a quick but thorough exam with the help of his assistant.
“We don’t usually see the men’s girlfriends or wives,” the PA said as the doctor probed her cheek. “Auric has them on a different insurance plan.”
Suppressing a wince, she gave him a tiny shake of her head, trying not to move. “I’m not Mason’s girlfriend. We’re just neigh—friends.”
“So, he didn’t do this?” the nosy assistant asked.
Her lips parted. “No. This was someone else. My ex.”
The doctor paused, his professionalism unruffled. “We didn’t think Mr. Lang was responsible,” he said with a pointed glare at the assistant.
“Doesn’t hurt to check,” the nurse sniffed. “You never know with some of these soldier types.”
She turned to Laila. “Are you on any medication?”
“Just…birth control pills.” Her voice lost steam toward the end, making it a breathy whisper. The doctor straightened, and the two medical professionals glanced at each other. There was a brief but pointed silence.
“I’m going to check on the X-Rays while Anne takes the rest of your medical history,” the doctor said after the two had come to a silent agreement. He excused himself.
As soon as he was gone, the PA asked if she needed a rape kit.
“No,” she said, deciding to be honest. “My ex and I haven’t shared a bed in several months. I, um, I came to distrust him early on.”
She sighed, looking down at her hands. They didn’t have a mark on them. When push came to shove, Laila hadn’t even tried to defend herself. She’d been too scared, too shocked.
“A cheater, huh?” the nurse said in a knowing tone. The grey-haired woman’s abrasiveness might have bothered someone else, but, at this moment, Laila appreciated the no-nonsense attitude.
Too much sympathy would have made her feel even more powerless than she already did.
Laila’s shoulders slumped. “I suspect that’s the case, but I never got confirmation either way. He always denied it.”
“Then, I guess the question I should be asking is if you would like a full STD check?”
“Yes,” she said, almost hissing in emphasis. “Please.”
Laila hadn’t been on birth control at the start of their relationship. Joseph had pressured her until she’d agreed to get the pills at the university’s health services. But when he’d asked her if it was finally safe to go without other protection, Laila had stalled, using excuse after excuse to put him off.
Her caution and distrust meant the tests were probably unnecessary, but she wanted to be sure.
The nurse gave her a commiserating pat on the shoulder. “I’ll put a rush on the results.”
“Thank you.”
Mason kept hoping Laila would ask him to detour to the police station on the drive home, but she stayed quiet, her eyes locked on the door of the Mustang’s glove compartment. She was a million miles away.
He opened his mouth, about to nudge her about going to the cops, when he shut it again.
She agreed to the doctor, and they recorded her injuries.
Laila even told the physicians who had caused them. He knew that because the nurse—Anne—had given him strict instructions not to let the douchebag ex anywhere near her.
In the meantime, they could afford a day or two of indecision. Doc Valentine and his assistant would back up any statement Laila made to the police, even if it took her a few days to work up the courage to contact them.
Be satisfied with her clean bill of health.
The physician had confirmed the injuries were superficial. Dubey hadn’t done any permanent damage. That was the priority.
“Are you going to take some time off work?” he asked instead, maneuvering through side streets instead of taking the highway.
Laila jerked, snapping out of her reverie. “I am using some of my vacation days. I texted my boss, although I didn’t tell him why. He was a bit surprised. I didn’t even take days off for my exams.”
She lapsed into silence again. He kept his eyes on the road but kept giving her the side-eye, willing her to speak.
“What you said yesterday,” she began. “About watching me. Were you serious?”
He glanced at her, but shifted his eyes to the road. “You know I was.”
“Then why?” If he’d been that intent on her, why hadn’t he made a move?
A million excuses came to mind, but the one that escaped from his lips was the most honest. “Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he admitted with a groan, letting the car coast down the road to his rental.
He was about to pull into the drive when Laila gasped, grabbing his arm. “Mason!”
Mason whipped forward, hitting the brakes when he saw there was another car parked in his space.
The vehicle was a nondescript sedan, but Mason didn’t need official markings to know who had come calling. He immediately recognized the bearing and demeanor of the man and women leaning against the trunk.
“Cops,” he said shortly.
Hurt flickered over Laila’s face. “You called them?” The betrayal in her voice nearly gutted him.
Mason grabbed her hand, squeezing it until she met his eyes. “I did not. I would never take that decision away from you. They must be here about something else.”
Like quicksilver, her injured expression transformed into fear. “Rosamie!”
Laila shoved open the passenger door, but she got caught in the seatbelt as she scrambled up without undoing it. She fumbled it. Her hands were too shaky to unclip it, so he reached over to do it. Once free, Laila bolted to the waiting detectives.
But it wasn’t Rosamie they had come to see her about. It was another friend, one whose name he had heard, but whose face he didn’t know.
“Jasmine is missing?” Laila shook her head, bewilderment spreading over her features as the detectives sat across from her at his dining room table.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Detective Silano asked. She was a lean and hard thirty-something with deep grooves bracketing her mouth. Mason bet on those being premature. Behind her, the other detective, introduced only as Boggs, held up the wall.
It took Laila a while to remember the exact day. She had to check her phone’s calendar to piece it together, but it soon became apparent they weren’t checking because they suspected her and wanted to know her whereabouts at the time of the disappearance.
They were asking because they wanted to know Joseph Dubey’s.
The last time Jasmine Elliot was seen was at the Alpha Omega. She’d been drinking with Dubey and his cousin Bryce Johansen, the vice president of the frat. No one had seen her since.
“Are you sure she isn’t at Sam’s?” Laila asked, sitting on the edge of her chair. “That’s her boyfriend. You should talk to her.”
“We spoke to Sam Leeds already,” Boggs said, speaking for the first time. “Her and his roommate confirmed they hadn’t seen Ms. Elliot since Thursday. Mr. Leeds volunteered they’d had a minor disagreement and didn’t have plans to see each other. The roommate said they had minor quarrels all the time, but they were good about giving each other space to get over it.”
“Then maybe she went to her parents or her sister,” Laila said, her tone edgier. “They live in San Diego, and sometimes she just jumps in her car and drives down to see them.”
Mason saw the detectives exchange a look, and that was when he knew. He reached out, taking Laila’s hand. “You’re not trying to trace a missing person, are you?”
The pair across the table exchanged another loaded glance.
“What does that mean?” Laila asked in a thin voice. She watched him with her heart in her eyes.
There was a short silence. “It means they’re here because they already found the body,” he said gently, squeezing her hand.
It was the only thing that made sense. A college girl missing for a few days would have been taken seriously if the disappearance had been reported, but from what the detectives had said, that hadn’t been the case.
And they sure are hell wouldn’t have come asking about Joseph Dubey if there hadn’t been a body. These were career cops. They wouldn’t have poked that hornet’s nest unless they had to. But if Laila’s friend was dead, then they didn’t have a choice.
Laila’s breath fractured as she saw the truth written on the detective’s faces.
Silano’s next words confirmed her worst fears. “Miss Elliot fell off the radar Friday night. Her cell phone was turned off or died around two AM. It was found with her body.”
“But you can’t find a trace of her, no witnesses who saw her after the frat party,” Mason supplied. “Joseph and his cousin were the last people she was seen with alive. Let me guess—the pair are alibiing each other?”
Annoyance flitted across Silano’s face. She ignored him, choosing to focus on Laila.
“At this time, neither Joseph Dubey nor his cousin Bryce Johansen are suspects. Both have clean records with several commendations for community service between them. That and several of the Alpha Omega brothers swear they were there all night. “
Laila’s intake of air was sharp. Mason wanted to bang on the table and shout. Hell, that was it.
The detective paused, but when Laila stared shell-shocked and unmoving, Silano continued.
“We came to speak to you after interviewing Jasmine Elliot’s roommate Rosamie Bautista. Miss Bautista said you might have further information on that.”
Swallowing loudly, Laila took a deep breath and nodded. She gestured to her bruised face and told them what had happened to her Saturday morning, and later that night.
“I didn’t know why Joe was so insistent that he’d come home that night,” she said, looking nauseated. “He was so upset, so angry. It was irrational and out of proportion, or at least I thought so…”
Mason moved his chair until it was flush with hers. He threw an arm around her, pulling her into him. She was cold to the touch under his hands.
“Based on this information, we’ll be able to interview Joseph Dubey,” Silano said, trying to seem like she hadn’t swallowed a lemon.
Mason read between the lines. Dubey had lawyered up with what was doubtless a high-priced attorney. Hell, he probably has a team.
“If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to take some pictures of your injuries, to go with your statement.” Silano pulled out her cell phone.
Jaw firming despite the lost expression, Laila nodded, murmuring her assent.
“I took her to my doctor this morning,” Mason told the detective. “He took X-Rays as well as pictures. I can have them sent them to you.”
“Do that,” the officer said, her tone a touch more gracious than before. “But we still need our own.”
With that, she stood and ushered Laila to push her chair away from the table. Silano walked around her, taking pictures from several angles. They left a few minutes later.
Laila’s drawn face worried him. So was her continued silence. He pulled her into the living room, throwing a blanket over her. She let him fuss over her, but she didn’t react until he tried to press a hot chamomile tea into her hands.
