Chapter 5

Charles Richards stayed the rest of Saturday with his wife Diana in her hospital room. He left for a few minutes to make a phone call in the lobby. He contacted an executive at the movie studio to make sure they notified her boss in Hawaii.

Charles was not about to let her go back to that office. He also asked the studio executive if they would make arrangements with her boss to have their offices moved somewhere else on the lot ... somewhere with better security. The executive assured him they would take care of it right away.

And he didn't want to leave her that night. The nurses were very kind and let him stay after visiting hours were over. They told him he could stay until she was able to fall asleep; she was afraid to be alone.

Diana scooted to the side of the bed and asked him to lie beside her and hold her until she fell asleep. He lay mostly on his left side with her tucked against his chest, his arms wrapped around her and her head on his left shoulder and upper arm.

When the night nurse came in to check on her, she found them both fast asleep with her cradled completely in his arms. The nurse sympathized with what they were going through. She left them like that ... even though it was against hospital policy.

While she slept, Diana's fear and pain turned to rage. She had a sickening dream about what that bastard, Ed Hood, had done to her. When she awoke, she began to pant heavily. I could've prevented this from happening, if only...

Charles felt her stirring in his arms. He woke up as she glanced up at him.

She stated angrily, "I wish I'd had my gun with me! I would've put several bullets right in his crotch—then I'd like to have seen him try to rape me! That bastard! I wonder if he's attacked any other women ... or was he just fixated on me?"

She stared up at Charles. "Why haven't the police contacted us to say they've found him? How hard could it be to find him?"

"Diana, he probably fled the city right after he attacked you because you know him. I have to wonder why this bastard attacked you so openly knowing you could identify him? It doesn't make any sense! We're lucky he didn't kill you!"

She stared at Charles as the intense anger and hatred she felt burned in her eyes. She growled through her teeth, "I want the bastard dead! I want to make sure he can never do this to me or any other woman ever again!"

His eyes burned with the same anger and hatred. But he said cautiously, "Don't ever make a statement like that to anyone but me! You understand? If anything ends up happening to that bastard, we'll be the first ones they look at. Tell the police you're afraid of him and make yourself look afraid, but don't let them see your anger. Whatever you do, don't let them know your true feelings."

He couldn't actually hunt him down, but if the opportunity to kill that bastard ever presented itself...

While Diana picked at her breakfast, Charles went to the cafeteria to get a cup of hot tea and a Danish. When he got back to her room, her best friend, Lynda Curtis, was there. She brought Diana some clothes to wear when she left the hospital.

Lynda hugged Charles. "I'm so glad you were able to get back to Diana so fast. I'll drop by your house later and fix dinner for you two so you won't have to worry about it. OK?"

"Thanks, Lynda. That'll be great. We'll see you later," he said to her as she left.

The doctor came in around eleven o'clock. He checked Diana's eyes and the lump on her head. He said it looked like she was out of danger and would heal just fine, so he released her. He also advised her to contact her regular gynecologist for follow-up visits to check her internal injuries and make sure they were healing properly.

Charles had to help her dress. She still couldn't move easily due to her soreness. He tried to help her put a bra on, but she couldn't wear it. It was too tight and was hurting her bruises, so she left it off. Luckily, Lynda had thought ahead and brought one of her dresses that wrapped around her and tied at the sides. She only had to slip her arms into it and Charles tied it for her.

They arrived home just after noon. He begged her to let him fix her something to eat. She'd hardly touched her breakfast that morning. She finally relented to try a small bowl or cup of soup. He had just finished heating some on the stove and poured it into a mug for her when they heard the doorbell ring.

Who on earth could that be... "You stay here and eat your soup. I'll see who that is and get rid of them if it's nothing important." Charles kissed her forehead gently and then went to the front door.

It was a couple of plain-clothes L.A.P.D. detectives. This might be important...

The officers identified themselves as Detectives Jerry Olson and Jonathan North.

North asked, "Are you Special Agent Charles Richards of the FBI?"

Charles affirmed that he was by showing them his ID and badge. He let them in as he asked, "What's the purpose of this visit?"

The two detectives looked at each other uncomfortably. Detective North asked, "Agent Richards, how long have you and your wife been married?"

"Three months. Why? And call me Mr. Richards. I'm not on duty right now."

North continued, "Certainly, Mr. Richards. And just how much do you know about your wife's previous life before you met her?"

"As much as I need to know. Why?" His eyes narrowed. You better not bring up anything that doesn't specifically have to do with that bastard...

The two detectives glanced at each other again. Then Detective North asked, "Are you aware that your wife has a history for several years of picking up men in bars and, apparently, having one-night stands with them?"

You bastard... Anger flashed in his eyes. "My wife told me all about her past when we got married. What does that have to do with her getting beaten black and blue and then raped by some man that she refused to have sex with over a year ago? And why are you investigating my wife when you should be looking for the perp?"

Detective North continued, "Mr. Richards, do you have any idea how difficult it would be to get rape charges to stand against this man if it ends up going to trial and your wife's past history is revealed in court? We've had numerous cases like this that the D.A.'s office has refused to prosecute over the years when it was revealed that the victims had a history of casual flings or one night stands."

I know it's not fair, but I'm not the D.A.! We're just doing our jobs... "And we weren't investigating your wife, we were following leads on some of the perp's known hangouts. Apparently, he's been following your wife for quite some time. Every bar and club we visited last night and showed the perp's photo around didn't give us many leads. But when we flashed a photo of your wife, she was instantly recognized by men who said they'd seen her only once or twice and that she left with a man each time she was there."

Charles was staring at them angrily. He replied heatedly, "Again ... what difference does all this make in finding the man who raped my wife?" his voice rising in volume. I'm warning you...

Damn it ... I can't help you! It's not my decision... North continued, frustrated. "Mr. Richards ... how can we continue to waste the Department's valuable time looking for a man who will likely get out of the charges because he'll have plenty of witnesses and evidence to back up his claim that your wife asked him for sex?" Oh, you sick bastard ... Just stand there and let him hit you because you deserve it...

That's IT... Charles drew back his right shoulder and was about to deck Detective North—until he heard a whimper behind him. He spun around. Diana was standing at the kitchen door; she'd heard the detective's last statement. There were tears in her eyes; her right hand was on her mouth and her left arm was clutching her stomach.

Charles moved to her quickly and put his arms around her. Then he walked her over to where the detectives were standing. He moved behind her and put his arms around her again.

He said softly next to her ear, "I'm not doing this to shame you, my love, but these bastards need to see what it is they think you asked for!" He untied the sides of her dress and pulled it open.

She turned the right side of her face toward the detectives and closed her eyes. She cried softly from embarrassment.

The detectives frowned. Then they stared intently. Their eyes traveled down her body to where Charles pushed her panties low enough so they could see the worst bruising. Then he closed her dress, turned her around and hugged her against him.

He stared menacingly at Detective North. "That's only what you can see on the outside of her body!" He looked at both men with deadly seriousness. "Now ... are you two still going to stand there and try to tell me that my wife asked that bastard for sex? And what kind of message are you sending to any other would-be rapists out there? That the L.A.P.D. and the D.A.'s office are declaring open season for rapists on women who've been known to sleep around?!! Now get out of here! I don't want to hear from anyone else in your department unless it's to tell us that you've found that bastard or at least know where he is!"

The detectives showed themselves out.

Charles held Diana against him as she sobbed softly. He soothed her as calmly as he could. "Shhhh ... it's alright, my love. We'll get through this. And I promise you, that bastard will pay ... one way or the other ... he'll pay for what he did to you!"

As the detectives walked back to their car, Jerry Olson, the older one at 45, who hadn't said anything, finally spoke up.

"I really feel sorry for them. I have a sister who had a tendency to dally with men because she couldn't find the right man to love. She finally did and, luckily, nothing like this ever happened to bring her past back to haunt her. Not all women who use men like most men use women do it because they're just 'bad girls.' That woman didn't deserve this and you damn well know it! That was a cruel thing to say! And if I ever hear you say anything like that again, I'll belt you in the mouth!"

Jonathan North, who was 38 but felt more like 58, looked at him and sighed wearily.

"I know. It's just so frustrating that there's such a double standard applied to women. And this is 1956! Men who fool around are just 'playing the field!' But the women who 'play the field' with them are considered sluts. It's a tragedy that those two finally found each other and something like this happened. If we ever do find the perp, I wouldn't blame Richards if he goes after the bastard if he walks. If I was lucky enough to find a woman like her, I'd go after anyone who attacked her, too!"

Jonathan North sighed heavily as he got into the car. If only I could find a woman like her...

Fate was about to step in again...

Sunday afternoon, Barbara Adams came to see her good friend Diana. She couldn't go to the hospital. She'd had an intense aversion to hospitals ever since her husband was killed—Diana understood that.

She told Barbara what one of the detectives had said.

She threw a fit. "WHAT?! How dare he say something like that! He's a detective ... it's not his job to decide which cases warrant investigating! Charles, how could you let him get away with saying something like that about your own wife?!! Why didn't you deck that jerk?!!"

"I nearly did, Barbara, until I realized that Diana had come into the room. I decided the best way to put them in their place was to make them look at what that bastard did to her. I'm pretty sure they went away feeling ashamed at what they had thought!"

When Barbara was leaving, she asked for the name of the man who'd made that awful remark. She was still livid from what they told her Detective Jonathan North had said. She intended to visit the L.A.P.D. precinct the next day to give Detective North a piece of her mind!

She would end up giving him way more than that...

Barbara showed up at the police station Monday morning. She asked the desk sergeant for Detective North. "Have a seat and I'll call him."

Barbara couldn't sit. She paced back and forth as she went over everything she intended to say.

Jonathan North headed to the front lobby. A beautiful blonde woman was pacing agitatedly and talking to herself. She was obviously upset about something...

He went to the desk and the sergeant pointed to the beautiful blonde. Uh, oh...

He walked over behind her and cleared his throat. "I'm Detective North. How can I help you?"

Barbara spun around to scold him. She didn't realize how close he was. She stumbled slightly and fell against his chest. He brought his arms up to steady her and she looked up at him. He was staring at her with a startled expression on his face. Then a very intense look came into his eyes.

Was that ... desire?!! Barbara's anger waned as she stared up at the man. He was tall; at least six feet or taller. He had a face that was both distinguished and ... sexy. It was marked with frown lines, like he worried a lot. But his sexy, bedroom eyes said he knew how to take his mind off his worries. He had large, dark green eyes that seemed to beckon her closer, under dark brows that looked black, like his raven hair; a long, straight nose, full, sensual lips and a strong, rounded chin.

Oh, my ... you're awfully handsome ... and sexy...

Ohhh, please ... don't break my heart. You feel like you belong in my arms ... and in my bed ... Get a hold of yourself, Jon...

The woman's anger receded to be replaced by surprise when she looked up into his face. He held her against him a little longer than was necessary. Her surprise flickered with a flash of desire. Then it morphed into an almost compassionate gaze as she stared at his mouth.

Let me take your worries away ... Shall I pull your face down to mine ... press my lips to yours ... let our tongues stroke together until there's nothing and no one but us...

Yes ... kiss me. Make me forget about everything but you... Where the hell had that come from? Jonathan North was afraid his heart was in danger again...

He released her. Quickly.

Barbara almost forgot why she came to see this man. But she remembered when she suddenly regained her senses. He let go of her as if she was suddenly a hot poker that had burned his hands.

She stepped back and cleared her throat. "Is there somewhere we could speak privately, Detective North?"

He led her to an empty interrogation room down the hall. As soon as he shut the door, she let him have it with both barrels.

"I don't know who you think you are, Detective North! But if you ever make one more derogatory statement against my friend, Diana Richards, I'll report you to whomever I have to! What you said yesterday was cruel and uncalled for and I have half a mind to slap your handsome, sexy face!"

Barbara didn't even realize what she'd said as she continued with her tirade.

You think I'm handsome ... and sexy... Jonathan North's eyes widened slightly. He crossed his arms over his chest and put his left hand on his mouth and chin. He had to hide the smile that was trying to form as he perched on the edge of the table and watched her rant.

She certainly was very beautiful...

Lovely, shining, light golden blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose curls with creamy skin on her long, exotic face. She had high cheekbones, cat-like, sparkling blue-gray eyes with thick, curly lashes, a straight, sculpted nose and a luscious mouth with a slightly pouty lower lip.

She wasn't quite as short as her equally lovely friend, Diana, and her body wasn't quite as curvy. She had high, firm breasts, a small waist, and slim, rounded hips under her full, flowing skirt. North kept glancing at her body.

I wonder how your small, round breasts would feel in my big hands ... Damn it, Detective ... keep your mind on your job...

His loins were tingling. She stopped pacing and was standing in front of him with her hands on her hips. Her breasts were heaving and her eyes were blazing.

Damn ... She was just sexy as hell ... His dick hardened instantly.

Barbara stopped suddenly. He was staring at her chest with raw desire. He shook his head slightly and looked at her face. She asked him quietly, "Were you staring at my breasts, Detective North?"

She felt tingles between her legs at the look in his eyes. And she was breathing raggedly—but now it was from excitement as much as it had been from anger just a moment ago.

I'm supposed to be mad at you! Stop looking at me like that! Oh, please ... don't look at me that way...

Jonathan North didn't even realize what he was saying. "Yes ... I was imagining how they would feel in my hands..." He stopped.

Her hands dropped from her hips and her lips parted slightly. Her eyelids lowered and flames of desire leapt in her eyes as she stared at his mouth.

I know you want to kiss me ... Oh, God ... I wish you would! I want to taste your sweet mouth with my tongue and nibble on your luscious lower lip...

This can't happen! You're a police detective investigating a violent crime involving one of her friends... North shook his head. He couldn't get involved with her during the investigation. It would make him appear to be biased toward her friend, the victim.

And she was there to berate him for that stupid comment he'd made yesterday! He owed her an apology or at least an explanation...