said.
The doctor cleared her throat. “We find in about five percent of rape cases—”
“I was not raped.”
Caleb’s instincts went on point. “You said you didn’t remember.
“I do not need to remember,” she said firmly. “I would know.”
He wanted to believe her.
Reason enough, in his experience, to doubt. She was naked and unconscious when he found her. Anything could have been done to her.
His stomach pitched. Anything.
65
She might not remember. Or she could be in denial.
“It’s easy enough to confirm,” he said.
A glint surfaced in those dark, deep eyes. “Easy for whom?”
He was silent.
Donna tapped her pen against the clipboard. “Just a few more questions.”
Caleb kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze on Maggie’s face as she answered the doctor’s questions in a low, clear voice that told them . .
. absolutely nothing.
She didn’t know.
She couldn’t remember.
She wouldn’t say.
“Date of last menstrual cycle?” Frustration tinged the doctor’s voice.
Caleb sympathized.
“I’m not sure.”
“Are you sexually active?”
A pause, while every muscle in his body tensed.
The doctor tried again. “Do you remember the last time you had intercourse?”
She remembered . . . something. He saw it in her eyes.
“It’s all right,” he said in the even tone he used to soothe new recruits. “No one is blaming or accusing you of anything. We just want to find out what happened so we can take care of you.”
“The last time?” Donna prompted.
66
Maggie’s face was pale and collected. A tiny pulse beat beneath her jaw. “Three weeks ago.”
Three weeks . . .
His chest was tight. “What about tonight?”
“I don’t understand.”
“What were you doing on the beach tonight?”
Maggie’s gaze collided with his, her eyes dark and unfathomable.
“Looking for you.”
67
Six
DONNA
GLANCED
FROM
MAGGIE
TO
CALEB,
SPECULATION sparkling in her eyes. “You two know each other?”
Maggie was silent.
Caleb didn’t blame her. Their relationship was none of the doctor’s damn business. Or wouldn’t be under most circumstances. Too bad these weren’t ordinary circumstances. Maggie was Donna’s patient. And Caleb . . . Well, he was willing to tell the doctor whatever she needed to hear to provide Maggie with the best possible care.
So, okay, he didn’t know Maggie’s last name or her favorite color, her permanent address or her childhood pets. But they’d had sex on a picnic table. Twice. That counted for something.
Know her?
“Yes,” he said.
“So . . .” Donna pursed her lips. “Any idea who I should list as the responsible party?”
Victims Compensation would cover only part of the bill.
"Put my name,” Caleb said. “At least until we locate some family.”
As simply as that, he claimed her.
There would be winks, he knew, and nudges and teasing comments when he patrolled the dock or dropped by Antonia’s for his morning cup of coffee.
But as long as Maggie was tagged as the police chief’s girl, she would be accepted and protected by the tight-knit island community. The news might even give the son of a bitch who attacked her a few anxious moments.
68
Caleb hoped so.
“Well, then.” Donna set down her clipboard and smiled at Maggie.
“Let’s have a look at you.”
Maggie stiffened, but she allowed the doctor to palpate her skull and shine a tiny penlight into her eyes.
Caleb caught himself leaning forward and settled back deliberately in his corner. For months now, he’d been trying to feel a part of things.
Connected. Now he had to struggle for his professional detachment.
“Hmm,” Donna said.
Fuck detached.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked.
“Her pupils are enlarged.”
“Is that bad?”
Donna made
Aziz Ansari, Eric Klinenberg