CHAPTER 38

Honesty Is Not the Best Policy

I desperately wanted to look away, but I knew that if I did, it would be a clear sign of admission.

Did he rape me?

Maybe.

Probably.

Cyrus and the state of New Jersey says he did, but what did it even matter? Durant's crimes against me went far beyond sexual violation and brutality. The despicable things he did to me left more scars on the inside than on the outside. He took the bumbling Bounty hunter and changed her in ways she would never recover from.

A wave of exhaustion hit me. I was done fighting. I just wanted to get the hell out of here. I cleared my face of any reactions and clasped my hands in my lap like Cyrus had told me to do when I was uncomfortable with a question. He put his hand over mine and leaned closer. "Would you like me to stop the interview?" he whispered.

I wanted him to take me out of here right now, but that couldn't happen, not if I wanted to close this chapter of my life. I squared my shoulders, met Agent Shaw's eyes straight on and firmly sold my version of the truth. "No. He did not sexually assault me." The lie weighed heavily on my tongue, but I'd said it and I wasn't taking it back.

I heard audible exhales from the men in my life, but didn't dare look their way for fear, Joe, and especially Ranger, would be able to tell I was lying. Now that I'd given them an answer, I felt like I could breathe again. What I said might not be technically true, but I was determined to push those memories out of my head and move forward. Maybe, if I tried hard enough, I would come to believe the lies myself.

Agent Kinkade nodded, relieved to hear I hadn't been raped, but there was a glimmer of skepticism in Agent Shaw's eyes and I knew he wasn't going to let it go. "Did he ever attempt to sexually assault you?" he asked.

I wasn't about to look away from him. If he had the guts to ask intrusive questions, then it was time for me to be blunt with my answers. "He wanted to, but he couldn't maintain an erection. When his… equipment wouldn't cooperate, he would get angry, but then after he calmed down, he'd say that it hadn't been the right time yet. One of the last things he said to me was that he couldn't wait to be joined with me as I left this world."

"I'm confused," Agent Shaw said. "If he couldn't maintain an erection, how was he able to masturbate to completion in front of the dead women?"

This part was disgusting to think about, and I knew everyone in this room was going to feel the same way. "The first time I saw him doing that, I was shocked, too. Knowing he couldn't perform had alleviated some of my fears, but then I asked myself the same question you just asked me." I let that sink in. "I think you know what I concluded."

Agent Shaw tilted his head to the side. "I have a theory, but I'd like to hear what you have to say."

He was going to make me lay it all out for them. I gave myself a minute to get my emotions under control and then I continued. "He looked at them with love… as if they were beautiful even though they were decomposing. Each time I made a mistake reciting their stories, he would come to their defense as if I offended them and then he'd make me apologize to them. He treated them as if they were alive and witnessing everything in the cellar, but they weren't. That was the difference between me and them. They were dead and I was alive." I waited to see what they thought of that. It seemed as if they were lost for words. When no questions came, I continued. "I think seeing the image of Emmie's emaciated body at such a young age, coupled with the guilt over leaving her to die, messed with his mind." I tapped my forehead. "He could only get it up once his victims had lost so much weight that they looked skeletal and bordered on death. Unfortunately, that didn't leave him much time to have sexual relations with his victims, so... "

Agent Kinkade's brows crinkled. "Are you saying he had sexual relations with the women after they died?"

"Obviously, I didn't personally witness it, but from everything I know, I believe so." I crossed my arms over my stomach and let them process that bit of information. Realizing I was done with this particular topic, Agent Kinkade decided to change direction. I was grateful because I didn't like thinking about what Durant did to the women and what he had planned to do to me.

"How often did he bring food and water?" Agent Shaw asked.

"The first few days I was in the cellar he would bring a meal and share it with me. He was showing me his good side and like I said, he was trying to get me to fall in love with him, but after he determined that I wasn't 'The One', he started staying away longer. He said it was because I made him so mad he had to take some time to cool down, but what he meant was that he had to stay away, or he'd kill me in a fit of rage. After he introduced the women and told me their stories, he only brought peanut butter sandwiches and water for me to eat. Usually, I got one sandwich and bottle a day, but sometimes there would be two sandwiches and two bottles of water. That meant he wouldn't be coming back for a few days, and I was fine with that because it meant fewer beatings. I was careful to ration the food because I was never sure when or if he was coming back. At that point, he was just keeping me alive until he decided it was time for MY final rest."

"Obviously you were able to escape. Can you tell me about that?" Agent Shaw asked.

"I tried several times before I was successful." I smiled, reveling in the satisfaction I felt as I remembered the shocked look of pain in Durant's eyes when my teeth sunk into his neck. "When you do the autopsy, you'll find a chunk of skin missing from his neck where I bit him." I didn't wait for them to absorb that tidbit of information before I continued. "Another time I got my hands on his belt and managed to put it around his neck, choking him." They didn't need to know my hand had been on his dick, distracting him by making him think I was going to deepthroat him. "I almost had him that time, but by then, I was so weak he got the upper hand and beat me until I passed out."

"Yet, you were able to escape," he said with more than a little bit of disbelief. "How exactly did you manage that?"

I didn't take insult at his remark because it was only through sheer desperation that I succeeded in getting away. "A few days before I escaped, I woke up to find that an empty case had been placed next to Melissa." I swallowed hard, my breathing coming faster. "I knew it was for me, and that he had decided it was time for me to take my rest with the others. He hadn't planned on me getting sick, but he didn't do anything to help me once it was apparent that I was in a bad way. I begged him to take me to a doctor or bring me medicine… anything to help me. He ignored my pleas and tossed a paper bag at me. It had one sandwich and one bottle of water in it. I could make it last for a couple days, but there was something in his eyes when he threw the bag at me. I knew that when he came back, I was either going to be dead or he was going to hurt me while I lay dying. I had to do something before it was too late. I figured I had nothing left to lose."

"And what did you do?" Agent Kinkade sat forward in her chair. I paused a minute to think about how to phrase what I was about to say. I needed to come across as a woman who did what she had to do to survive instead of a bloodthirsty woman bent on getting revenge against her captor. I figured if I started to say something I shouldn't, Cyrus would stop me.

"I had to break my hand to get free." I scrunched my eyes and started breathing a little harder, remembering the sound of my bones breaking and grinding against each other as I pried the shackle off.

"Can you explain exactly how you did that?" Agent Shaw asked.

"I lay my left arm on the concrete floor, lifted the leg of the metal bed, and slammed it down on my wrist." I kept my voice detached. "The first strike wasn't hard enough, so I had to do it again. That time, I passed out and when I woke up, my hand was already starting to swell. I quickly removed the shackle, and stood on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to come through the door. I was so weak my legs were shaking. The longer I stood there, the more afraid I was that I wouldn't have the strength to hit him hard enough and it would backfire. I knew if it didn't work, he'd kill me on the spot. But I'd made peace with my decision. I was ready for it to be over—one way or the other. So, when he came through the door, I swung the chain. The shackle hit him in the head, and I don't remember what happened after that."

"What's the first thing you DO remember after hitting him?"

Cyrus was sitting up straight, listening intently. I waited for him to stop me, but he didn't. "I remember the sun blinding me and being in excruciating pain. That's when I realized I'd made it outside."

"Are you saying you have no memory of beating Durant or chaining him up?" Agent Shaw asked.

"No," I lied without hesitation.

"The medical examiner has given me a preliminary list of Durant's injuries." Agent Shaw opened one of the folders in front of him and read from it. "There were multiple blows to his head, stomach, and private areas." He looked up at me. "Can you explain these injuries, Ms. Plum?"

My first instinct was to shout that Durant deserved every hit I gave him and more. Cyrus put his hand on my forearm, sensing my anger below the surface. Instead of lashing out, I gave them the answer that would keep me out of prison. "No." I shook my head for emphasis.

Agent Shaw allowed a couple of minutes of silence to pass while he considered my answer, hoping that I'd offer more information. When I didn't, he continued, "Can you explain why your hands and clothing were covered in blood?"

"No."

Agent Shaw was a hard man to read, but I could see he wasn't one hundred percent certain I was telling the truth. "There seems to be a lot of things you don't remember."

He was starting to sound like Barry. "I've told you everything I can."

"Although I don't agree with Agent Hobbs' tactics, you do have to admit your memory loss is a little convenient." Agent Shaw studied me carefully for any sign that I was lying.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Cyrus put his hand on my arm again letting me know he would take this question. "You are free to speak with my client's neurologist. I'm sure he can answer any medical questions you might have."

"You're holding something back," he said. "Tell me why you removed his clothes and why you dressed yourself in them? Tell me how he got beaten so badly if you only hit him once? I want the full truth."

I sat forward, letting my anger rise to the surface. "You want to know the truth?" I asked as my voice got higher. "Hunter Durant was a serial killer and he was escalating. He held his first victim for sixteen months and his last for only eight. His down time in between killings went from spanning nine months down to four. Melissa's body wasn't even cold before he started stalking me. I wouldn't be surprised if he hadn't already had his next victim picked out before he brought the empty glass case into the cellar. I don't know why I was able to get away and they weren't. I'll wonder about that until the day I die. But I didn't do anything wrong. I was going about my life, not bothering anyone, and some freak decided he could take me away from my family and friends. He hurt me and I couldn't stop him. I was at his mercy for my very life. I was prepared to die down there. I did my best to make peace with that. And when I found a way out, I took it. I don't give a shit about his wounds or how they happened, and I'd be happier to completely forget about everything that happened down there. I got free and that's all that matters to me."

His voice softened a little. "All I want is the full story."

I took a deep breath in and then exhaled—tired down to my bones. My eyes traveled back and forth between the agents, continuing with less anger. "Listen, I appreciate the job you have, but it's not possible to make sense out of the heinous things he did. He was crazy and he was beyond redemption. You just have to accept that and move on. That's what I'm going to do."

Cyrus got to his feet and offered his hand to help me stand. "Agent's, my client has fully cooperated on the record and is prepared to sign a sworn statement to everything she just said and now she needs to rest. Unless you're charging her, we'll be leaving."

Agent Shaw leaned back in his chair, but he made no move to stop us. "I'll be in touch once we've gone over the physical evidence."

"I don't need to remind you that no one speaks to my client without me being present." Cyrus helped me into my coat and began ushering me out of the tent. "You know how to reach me."

Hector was a couple steps ahead of us and had just reached the tent flap when Agent Kinkade called out to me. I turned around, noticing that Ranger and Joe were still behind the table talking with Agent Shaw, but they stopped to watch as Agent Kinkade caught up with us. "You've gone through a horrible experience," she said, "and I'm sorry this interview has brought painful memories to the surface." She reached for my hand; her face burdened with genuine sympathy for what I'd gone through. "I don't want to sound trite, but I hope you can put this ordeal behind you."

"How?" I asked. "How am I supposed to do that when I can still smell him… still feel him… and still hear his voice in my head?"

"I don't know, Stephanie." She shook her head as if she wanted to say something helpful, but just didn't have the words. "What happened to you was horrific and unfair. I think you should talk to someone… a professional who knows how to help you deal with everything."

Joe hurried over to me, taking my right arm and helping me out of the tent. "Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded slightly as I summoned the desire to return his smile, hoping it appeared authentic, but I had a feeling he saw through my phony attempt. Ranger fell into step beside Cyrus, talking in quiet tones, most likely about my interview and my chances of being arrested. A door on one of the Rangeman SUV's opened and Lester got out. He gave me a quick hug and stepped back.

"Call me if the FBI agents contact you," Cyrus said. "I think I've made myself perfectly clear to them, but just to remind you, do not answer any questions without me." His eyes were lasered onto mine, waiting for an answer.

"Got it," I said. "No talking to the feds."

"You did great." He squeezed my hand and got in his big red truck and took off.

"I'm going to stay a while longer," Joe said. "I need to get a feel for what Shaw and Kinkade are thinking after your interview." He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear before turning to Hector. "Do you mind taking her to my house?" Hector wasn't much for words, so he tipped his head in agreement while Morelli hugged me close and kissed my forehead. "Get some rest, I'll be home as soon as I can." Then he took off back toward the tent, leaving me with Ranger, Hector, and Lester.

Ranger placed his finger under my chin and lifted my face. He must have seen something that satisfied him because his lips curved at the corner in a barely there smile. He pulled me to him and kissed me on the forehead. "Eat and get some rest. I'll see you tomorrow." He faced Lester and after a silent message passed between them, Lester slung his arm around my shoulders, letting me know he'd won the babysitting lottery. Now that I was taken care of, Ranger went to join Joe and the agents.

I was drained. Exhausted. Empty. Take your pick. But most of all I was disappointed neither man I loved was coming with me. On a professional level, I understood why they needed to stay behind. Searching for me, had involved multiple jurisdictions and there were things that needed to be handled. But on a personal level, they would feel compelled to see inside the cellar for themselves and now that all the evidence had been removed, I'm sure the agents would allow them to go down. Even knowing all of that, I still wished one of them was going home with me.

Before I had the chance to fully embrace my pity party, Lester gently bumped my hip to get my attention. He glanced over at Hector, including him in his observation. "Looks like you got the 'A team,' Beautiful." He tipped his imaginary hat at me. After the day I'd had, I didn't think it was possible to laugh, but I did. "Hector and I are at your service." His smile turned lecherous as he bounced his eyebrows and leaned in close. "And by service, I mean… well, I don't usually do full frontal nudity, but in your case, if it gets me another one of those laughs, I'll make the sacrifice." He looked at Hector and his eyes brightened as if he'd just had a brilliant idea. "And maybe we can get Hector to show us how far down those tattoos of his go."

Hector's smile dropped and his face turned deadly. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing. He looked like he was seconds away from tearing Lester apart. Laughing felt odd and uncomfortable, like it was something I shouldn't be doing, but I couldn't help it. When I snorted, Hector himself barked out a laugh. I wasn't sure I'd ever heard him do that before.

Once we pulled ourselves together and got in the SUV, I looked over my shoulder into the backseat, smiling evilly at Lester. "If you're going to be putting on a show, we should stop for dollar bills." I paused, letting Lester's dirty mind go to work conjuring up all kinds of images before adding, "and my Grandma."

Lester's smile vanished quicker than a box of donuts on Connie's desk.