Free He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not by Lena Diaz Page B

stepped away from Logan again and faced him. “I came here to speak to you.” She looked over at Pierce. “And you too. I’m here because Chief Richards said he wanted to ask me some questions. He thought I might know something that can help with your investigation.”
    “Let’s go into another conference room,” Pierce suggested, his voice eager.
    Logan frowned at him. “Are you sure, Amanda?”
    She nodded and pasted what she hoped was a serene smile on her lips.
    He hesitated, giving her a doubtful look.
    “I’m really okay,” she assured him, hoping he couldn’t tell how much she was shaking inside.
    He still didn’t look like he believed her, but he gave her a tight nod and led her through the squad room, turning left this time instead of right. Flanked by the two large men, she was shielded from any curious stares.
    Pierce stopped in front of a frosted glass door and held it open while she and Logan stepped inside. Since there was a table and chairs in the room, it could technically be called a conference room, but it was so small a closet was a more apt description. With Logan and Pierce inside, it was filled to capacity.
    “Do you want something to drink?” Logan asked.
    “No, thank you. Let’s just get this over with.”
    He reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “If we ask any questions that make you too uncomfortable, let us know.”
    She nodded and tried to relax back against the chair. She tugged her hand away from his, not because it bothered her, but because she couldn’t think with him touching her. Instead, she clasped her hands in her lap beneath the table.
    “Let’s start with the week before the abduction,” Logan said. “We need to know exactly where you went, who you saw. We need to know why he chose you and Dana.”
    “Okay.” The week before the abduction was safe territory. She could handle that.
    A hundred questions later, she wasn’t so sure. She felt like a tennis ball tossed back and forth across the net, never knowing where the next swing would come from or where she might land. She answered most of their questions, but every time one of them veered toward the details of the attack itself, she steered them away to safer territory. She could tell they were both frustrated, but she couldn’t bring herself to discuss those intimate details again. Her throat closed up every time she tried.
    Pierce finally pushed his chair back and stood. “I appreciate your patience with our questions, Ms. Stockton. You’ve been a tremendous help.”
    “I have?” She didn’t think she’d given them anything new.
    “You’ve filled in gaps in the reports I’ve read. If you want to come back and talk again, please do so. I’d like another opportunity to question you further, when you’re ready.”
    Meaning, when she was ready to talk about what her attacker had done to her, not just the events surrounding her abduction. He left the room, leaving the door open behind him.
    “You did a great job,” Logan said.
    She ignored the little rush of pleasure his praise sent through her, especially since he was just being polite. Nothing she’d told them seemed like anything new or significant, even though she’d tried her best to think of any details she might have missed before. “I’m sorry I couldn’t answer the questions you really wanted me to answer. I wanted to. I really tried, but I . . .” Her voice trailed off and she looked up at him, frustrated at her inability to face her fears.
    “It took tremendous courage to come here, and even more to put up with our badgering.”
    Courage? She didn’t agree, but it felt good to have someone talk to her like she mattered. Until she’d met him, she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed interacting with other people, or how much that bothered her. Other than going to the post office or to the occasional store when she absolutely couldn’t get what she needed delivered to her house, she was always alone.
    “Why are