Chapter Twenty-One—Leaving Procedure Behind

Innocent wanted to move more than anything in the world, but she simply couldn't. Even if a sharp knife wasn't currently being held to her throat, she doubted she would have been able to so much as lift a finger. She was completely paralyzed with fear and with memories.

Jean thought of the week she'd spent in the hospital the first time she'd had run afoul of Richard Trout. She'd wound up with a broken arm, a deep, infected gash on her stomach from Trout's blade, and a bloody nose. And that wasn't even including the countless bruises, which had spanned her entire physique. But though the bruises had finally faded over a month later, the real wounds weren't something time and the doctors could have healed. Richard Trout had scarred Jean Innocent's soul, just as his knife had scarred her body.

She'd sworn that she'd never let herself feel so helpless again, and for the most part, she hadn't. In the fifteen years since Trout's assault, she had become braver, wiser, more efficient, more cautious.

But that self-improvement hadn't stopped her from being found by him now. That self-improvement hadn't made her able to protect the two people she loved most in the world, attacked for no other reason than because she loved them. That self-improvement wasn't going to stop her from being sullied right then and there.

Trout grinned broadly at her. " Scared, eh? I'm not surprised. They're always scared when I make love to them."

The expression" making love" had always perplexed Innocent, since sex and love were such separate entities in her mind. True, they were often connected, but sex could also be the result of lust, confusion, loneliness, alcohol, or a variety of other factors.

However, the euphemism had never seemed quite inappropriate as it was now. Jean knew it wasn't love or even lust that had prompted Trout to force his tongue down her throat; it was loathing, pure unadulterated hatred for all women but especially for this particular one—the one who'd gotten away, the one who'd tried to expose him for the animal he was, the one the one who'd naively thought she was finally safe.

Aware as Jean was that it was foolish to fight him—that the more she struggled, the more he'd make her regret it—it was impossible to resist a golden opportunity to pay back even a little of the pain he'd give to her. She bit down hard with her front teeth. Trout immediately removed his tongue from her mouth, and Innocent was satisfied to see a few droplets of blood drip from his lips.

" Damn, you've got spirit! More spirit than most."

" Most?"

" The other women. That Smythe girl wasn't the first. I'd had five others before her. You'll be my lucky number seven," he said, winking at her. " They were all very different, but they all respond in the same way. They cry and scream and maybe even fight back for a long time, but I'm patient, very patient. Eventually, they stop resisting completely. You will too—though I'll expect you'll take a very long time to break. I'm glad; it'll be far more rewarding when you finally do crack."

As one of Trout's hands continued to press the knife against Innocent's neck, the other hand occupied itself with the task of trying to remove her blouse. Every button that Trout unfastened seemed to further seal the inevitability of Jean's fate, causing a horrific scene to start playing in her mind.

Dr Hobson, wearing her scrubs and gloves, was standing in the morgue beside a table covered by a white sheet. The pathologist carefully folded the top part of the sheet and revealed the pale face of the body lying beneath it—the same face that greeted Jean Innocent every time she looked into a mirror.

" So, it's true, then?" asked a familiar voice, and the scene widened to show Lewis standing beside Laura. " I didn't want to believe it when I got the news. She…she always seemed so tough, so invincible."

"Sadly, no one is invincible, Robbie."

" I wish I could've…"

" Stopped this? I don't think there's anything you could have done." Hobson sighed. "Though I know how you feel, I wish now I had apologized for shouting at her the other day. I know it couldn't have prevented anything, but still…"

Lewis nodded and then spoke again, his voice, a tremulous whisper. "So…er…what…what else do I…need to know?"

" You don't need to know anything else, Robbie; in fact it would be best if you didn't learn any more. It would only haunt you. Ask Strange to put someone else on the case."

" You know I can't do that. This bastard needs to be found and put behind bars, and I've got to be the one that does it. It's…it's all I can do for them now. Please, Laura."

Hobson spoke, though the strained expression on her face suggested that her every word was causing her pain." There…there are clear signs of sexual activity, occurring shortly before her death. The evidence seems to indicate that…" Hobson swallowed. " …That it wasn't consensual. Her attacker…. forced himself on her and then stabbed her repeatedly with a knife we've yet to find."

There was a long silence that Lewis finally ended." And what about…"

Hobson's eyes suddenly flooded with tears. " I'm…I'm sorry, Robbie. It's just…"

He enveloped her in his arms and held her for a minute before her sobs slowed. Meanwhile, tears had started leaking out of the inspector's own eyes. "I know, Laura, I know."

Eventually, Laura released herself from Lewis's arms and started talking. "To answer your question, Robbie, he…he was killed first and with the same weapon. The depth and shape of his knife wounds are almost a perfect match for hers. There are also traces of his blood on her body, suggesting that the instrument wasn't cleaned between the two murders. There were also clear signs of a struggle at the scene. I...I think he died trying to protect her."

" I'm not surprised; I can't imagine him sitting around doing nothing as his boss is being…being raped. He was never one to let someone else suffer. Compassionate, he was. Always compassionate. It's…" Robbie broke off suddenly as tears started to fall down his cheeks again. " …it's one of the things I'll miss most about him."

" Me too. That and his smile. He had the most-wonderful smile. Don't you think?"

" Yeah, he did. I…can I see him?"

Hobson hesitated. " Are you sure you want to?"

" How could I possibly want to, Laura? But I have to. I couldn't live with meself otherwise."

Laura nodded and then re-covered Innocent's face. The pathologist then walked over to the next table. She carefully lowered the sheet to reveal the very still, very pale face of Detective Sergeant James Hathaway.

Innocent suddenly snapped out of her vision and into her senses. She had to find some way to stop Trout from carrying his perverse fantasy; hers wasn't the only life dependent on Trout's failure. James's face kept swimming in her mind.

It took her a moment to realize that it wasn't in her imagination that she was seeing him. He was here, in the room, standing by the door. When their eyes met, he placed one finger to his lips, indicating that she needed to keep her silence. She gave a curt nod and then refocused her attention on her husband's murderer. Though even if his back hadn't been turned away from the sergeant, Innocent doubted Trout would have noticed anything other than the task at hand. Having just removed Jean's shirt and having previously doffed his own, the man was now fumbling one-handedly with the fastenings of his trousers. Eventually, he seemed to realize that he was making this much harder than he needed to be. He put the knife on the bedside table so that both of his hands were free to better carry out his task.

It all happened in a blur: James running over to the table and grabbing the knife; Trout, trousers now down to his ankles, realizing a moment too late what had just happened; Hathaway advancing toward the other man, blade in hand.

" Let her go, or I swear…I won't hesitate."

" You're bluffing," the murderer said, as he grabbed both of Jean's wrists before she could manage to escape.

" Am I?" Hathaway's eyes were blazing with a savage, dangerous light Innocent had never seen in them before.

" No, I don't think you are," Trout said, studying the sergeant with new, appraising eyes. "You look too old to be her son, so what is she to you: sister, aunt, cousin…"

" Boss."

Trout laughed. "You think saving that pretty little arse of hers is going to earn you a pay raise or something? I wouldn't count on it."

"She's my friend."

" Is she now? I'm in shock that such a bitch has any friends at all. I'm still wondering why her name was the last thing her pathetic excuse for a husband said before he bled to death. My guess was that she was simply phenomenal in the sack, and I was just about to find out when you so rudely interrupted."

Hathaway took another two steps toward the bed and brandished the knife threateningly. " If you lay another finger on her…"

" Too late," Trout released Innocent's wrists and quickly placed his hands on the chief superintendent's neck, one on either side of her throat. " You stab, and I squeeze. Do I make myself clear?" Hathaway nodded. " Now hand me the knife back like a good little boy." James hesitated, clearly reluctant to give up the best chance he had of saving Jean and himself. To help the sergeant make up his mind, Trout started choking Innocent. He stopped after a few seconds, and then looked back at Hathaway expectantly. " That's just a taste of what's to come if you don't cooperate."

" James, don't!" Innocent said weakly as she struggled to regain her breath. "Get… out… while… you… still… can. I can take care of myself."

" Yeah, 'cause you've such a great job of that thus far," Hathaway remarked dryly. He walked over to the bed and knelt beside Innocent. " I'm not going to let him hurt you. The sooner you wrap your thick skull around that fact, the better off we'll both be."

" Better off? We'll both be dead! And you first, the very moment you hand over that knife. As your superior officer, I'm ordering you to leave immediately."

" What are you going to do if I stay? Suspend me? Throw me back in uniform? You're not in any position right now to assert your authority. Hell, at this point in time, I'm not even sure you have any authority left."

Unsure whether she was more flattered by his concern or frustrated with his noncompliance, Innocent tried one final technique. " I still have authority as your friend, and as your friend, I'm imploring you to see sense."

" Kind of ironic, really—as you're the one who's being unreasonable."

Obviously impatient with this exchange, Trout began squeezing Jean's throat again, and Hathaway seemed to lose the small amount of sense he'd still retained. He rammed the knife into Trout's inner thigh, causing the older man to cry out in pain and to release his grasp on Innocent. Dizzy and breathless as she was, Jean was somehow able to free herself from Trout completely. She pulled the now-besmirched knife out from Trout's leg and she carefully got off the bed, all the while pointing the blade at her would-be rapist in case he should try to run.

Innocent swayed slightly as she rose to her feet, but Hathaway caught her and managed to hold her up until she'd regained her breath. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, just a little lightheaded that's all. You…you can let go of me now, James."

The sergeant suddenly seemed to realize the true awkwardness of the situation he now found himself in. Both of his hands were wrapped firmly around Jean's shoulders—her bare shoulders as her blouse was still beside Trout on the bed.

"Right…er…sorry about that." James could feel his cheeks growing hot as he removed his hands. He quickly changed the subject. " We…we should probably do something about him." The sergeant gestured vaguely toward the bed where Trout was still moaning in pain.

" Yeah. What did you have in mind?"

Hathaway's blush deepened. " Er…actually, I was sort of hoping you had an idea. I figure as the senior officer, you know what's best."

" I really don't think rank matters at a time like this. We're on equal footing the way I see it. Besides, I think we left procedure behind a long time ago."

The sergeant nodded his agreement. "You can say that again! But in any case, we can't leave him like this. Hurt or not, he's still dangerous. It's too bad there isn't any rope or something that we can use to tie him up."

"Tie; that's it, James!" He stared at her blankly. " You can use your neck tie to bind his hands."

"Ah, right. Can you…can you watch him while I do that—make sure he doesn't try anything?" Innocent nodded, and so Hathaway set to work unfastening his tie as his companion had requested.

However, before he started binding Trout's hands, the sergeant took off his jacket and wrapped it around Jean's shoulders, causing her to glance up at him curiously. "You…you looked cold," he stammered by way-of-explanation.

Innocent was admittedly quivering ever-so-slightly, but it wasn't due to any chill in the room. Furthermore, the chief superintendent suspected Hathaway was just as aware of that fact as she was. "Oh, er…yes… I suppose I was. Thank you, James." She hoped he understood that she was talking about more than a piece of clothing.

"Any time," Hathaway replied before he walked back over to the bed.

Surprisingly, Trout didn't offer much resistance to having his hands bound. Instead, he focused all his attention on Innocent, piercing her with a stare so predatory that Jean felt as though she was the one whose hands were tied.

The chief superintendent flinched when she felt a hand on her shoulder and—tightening her grip on the knife still in her grasp—instinctively turned to face its source.

"Calm down, Jean. It's just…just me." Hathaway, who'd since finished his task and had walked over to join his companion, quickly removed his hand and took a few steps away." I didn't mean to startle you."

"Sorry, James. I'm just a bit…"

"Jumpy? That's perfectly all right; so…so am I, if I'm being perfectly honest."

If she was being totally honest with herself, she was a right bit more than merely "jumpy," but there was no way she would've admitted it—not with Trout in the room at any case. Of course, chances were very high that the man already knew how terrified she was—that he could somehow sense how rapidly her heart was pounding.

Trout had this way of looking at her that made her feel totally exposed—physically and emotionally naked. He was able to clearly see her every fear, her every insecurity, her every vulnerability—even the ones she'd managed to successfully hide from herself—and he was ready to exploit each and every one of her weaknesses, given the opportunity. He'd already made extremely good use of the few opportunities he'd been given—robbing her of husband and confidence and feelings of security.

Innocent thought she'd have been pleased, seeing Trout all trussed up and injured like that, and there was a part of her that was genuinely glad that he was in such great pain. But the moment wasn't nearly as satisfying as she'd expected; it was far more unsettling than anything else.

Watching someone suffer –even someone who deserved it—would never be a pleasant experience. Revenge, sadism—these were the instincts of people like Trout, not like people like her. In spite of everything he'd done, she still didn't want his blood on her hands, and she certainly didn't want it on Hathaway's.

Jean cleared her throat and turned to James. "We…we need to… clean up his leg. That cut looks deep and he's bleeding pretty badly. We should look for a first aid kit or something."

If the sergeant was at all surprised at this request, he hid his shock astonishingly well. " One of us will need to stay with him, though."

"I can do that." He looked somewhat hesitant at the thought of leaving her alone again with Trout, so she quickly added "I'll be fine, James; I promise. You'll only be gone a few minutes, and well…" she held up the knife still in her hand, " I can take care of myself."

He gave a slight nod and then exited the room.

There will be one final chapter, sort of an epilogue-y thing to give the story some closure and tie up a few loose ends. Not sure when exactly, it'll be up as I'm still trying to work out some of the particulars. But still, it feels good to finally have majority of the story finished—particularly as its been giving me grief for well over a year.