Do No Harm (Dr. Aubrey Drake #1) Page 5

  “There was another rape.”

  “I know. I was just heading in there to start getting the history. Wait, is that why you’re here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aubrey, you can’t do this. You can’t let yourself become personally invested.”

  “Why not, Ben? What’s wrong with being personally invested in helping people?”

  “It’s not good for you. You know this. If you get involved in this case, you’ll regret it.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “When they catch this guy, you’ll be dragged into court to testify.”

  “Oooo, terrifying,” I mocked.

  “Aubrey,” he said, taking my elbow, “you know this isn’t good for you. You’re so compassionate. I could see it in your eyes after you treated the first rape, and then again with the little girl—“

  “Don’t,” I warned, looking up into his brilliant green eyes.

  “See? That’s exactly my point. When this shit lands in your lap on your shift, it’s one thing, but you coming to look for it is another.”

  “I want to catch this guy. I want him punished for what he’s done to these women—”

  “That’s not your job!” He threw his hands in the air.

  “It’s my job to make sure these kits are done right, and the only way to do that is to do them myself.”

  “Aubrey, go home. Enjoy your off days. Put this out of your mind before the evil in this world breaks you down and makes you forget why you ever wanted to become a doctor.”

  I silently deliberated, but only for a second. “I became a doctor to help people, and that’s why I’m here. That’s what I’m doing. You know that no one will do this as well as I will. You know it. Help me help her, Ben.”

  As I pushed the door open, Ben resigned himself and followed me into the room. Low and behold, there stood Mister Douchebag himself.

  “Detective, I thought I made it clear that I feel it’s inappropriate for you to question a victim without a female present.”

  “And I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t concerned with your opinion, but if I didn’t, I do apologize.” His smartass attitude distracted me from my purpose, so I ignored him, but he persisted. “Look at you two, the dynamic duo. Both of you here on your day off. It’s just so pathetic.”

  “Excuse me,” the victim chimed in. “Do I need to be here for this?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Ben and I both apologized in unison while Todd said nothing. I did the exam and left the room with both guys in tow.

  Detective Morris was writing details in his Sherlock Holmes notepad. I was half listening to Ben as he continued to lecture me about getting “too involved,” but I was really thinking about how awesome it would be to get ahold of that notepad. Ben had begun apologizing for his hateful remarks the day before when Todd walked over.

  “Aubrey, did I drop something at your place last night? I had an important piece of paper in my pocket, and now I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”

  Ben threw his hands up and walked away. I closed my eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

  “I never claimed otherwise. It makes my day that I got to rub that in his face, but for real, I misplaced something. It’s really important, so if you find it, please let me know, yeah?”

  “Whatever. Do you think this was The Village Rapist?”

  “I don’t think we know each other well enough to discuss that, Doc,” he said with a smile and walked off.

  Since he wasn’t answering my questions, I took it upon myself to ask the victim. Who would know better? I dropped off the rape kit at the lab window and walked back over to the exam room, but she was gone. She must’ve slipped out because I knew she hadn’t been discharged.

  I was about to leave when the notion hit me to look in her chart for her address. I could go see all of them…the ones who had been treated here anyway. Ben was writing in the chart when I got to the desk.

  “Can I see that for a second?”

  He stopped writing and turned toward me. His features were hard. Todd was like boy-band-be-gone to Ben. His kryptonite. “How could you fraternize with that disgusting, little gnome? He was at your house?”

  “I told you that I needed a friend,” I said softly. It was partly true. I had gone out with Todd for details on the rape cases, but also because I was lonely. “You didn’t want to be my friend.”

  “He doesn’t want to be your friend either! He just wants to…”

  “What? What were you going to say? Don’t stop now. You’re on a roll!”

  He leaned down right in my face and whispered, “He’s an asshole, Aubrey. Stay away from him.” He tossed the chart on the desk and turned to walk away.

  “Why do you care?” I called after him, but he just kept walking. Ben was distracting. I didn’t understand him. I didn’t understand how we could work so well together, yet he wouldn’t feel any pull to know me outside of work. It baffled me.

  It was a good thing that everyone was so busy they hadn’t really noticed the little scene we’d made.

  I quickly wrote down the address of the latest victim and left before someone could reel me into working.

  Chapter 8

  On my way to The Village, I stopped at the shelter and checked in. I wanted to see what supplies they had and what I would be working with. In addition to volunteering at the shelter back home, I’d worked a little with Doctors Without Borders while I was in medical school. Anytime I had a break from school, I was out on a mission somewhere, trying to change the world. I’d always thought the wide world needed changing, but it turned out I could impact this little piece of the world just as much, and in different ways than I’d ever imagined.

  The shelter was connected to a church. I couldn’t help but step inside. The reality of what I was planning hit me like a ton of bricks. What I had already done felt justified, but would this? Would such a premeditated act feel as righteous?

  I was raised southern Baptist, but I stepped into the confessional booth of the Catholic church anyway. I wondered if I should confess, but I didn’t. I knew the fact that I’d killed a man was wrong in the eyes of the law, but it really wasn’t any different than sentencing someone to the death penalty. Only without all the lies, lawyers, and waiting.

  After a moment, I left and drove toward The Village without another thought. I would just see how things went. If it was meant for me to find this violent rapist, even when the police couldn’t, then it was meant to be; if not, then I would keep treating his victims, hoping and praying each day that he would be caught and brought to justice.

  When I arrived at the gated community, I looked at the intimidating entrance. I knew the gate was only for looks, but everyone didn’t. The tall, black, metal gate was guarded by a man with a gun. From the outside, the place looked safe.

  The community was huge, large enough to be its own little city, so obviously, the gate didn’t go all the way around; although, I’m certain the residents wished it did. It was, from what I remembered, a one-way-in, one-way-out community, though, so that did add allure and make the community safer than most.

  The guard stepped out of his shack as I approached the gate. My car didn’t fit in here. I’d saved all of my money to buy a house, so I was still driving my fifteen-year-old Toyota Celica. It’d been my first car and still ran just fine.

  “Can I help you, miss?” the guard asked as I pulled up.

  “Yes, I put an offer in on the house that’s for sale on East Ridge Drive. I was going to do a drive-by and take a few pictures.” I smiled widely as I spoke. I was playing an excited first time homebuyer in a community that was way out of my league. I didn’t have to act. It’s exactly what I was, minus the excited part. I was nervous.

  He thought on it for a moment then told me to hold on. He went back to his shack. I thought I might have some trouble getting in. In fact, I’d expected it. With so much happening, I would’ve thought they would shut the whole area down to outsiders. For all this g
uy knew, I could’ve been a criminal of some sort, or maybe a reporter.

  “Okay, ma’am. Here is your visitor’s decal. Please stop back by and drop it off on your way out,” he said with a little extra oomph than I was expecting. I paused, noticing “Higgins” sewn into his shirt. I stared at him for a beat waiting for a word of warning. Perhaps a “Be careful, there’s a rapist on the loose” or something, but all I got was a smile and a wave as the gate opened.

  As I drove through, I noticed people going about their business, as though there weren’t danger lurking at every turn. It was very strange. It was mid-morning, and there was a man jogging, a couple of women power walking, one lady pushing a stroller, and gardeners working on several properties. Everything looked so normal aside from one thing. Something I would think that would be very prevalent in a place like this: children playing. There were no children playing outside. Sure, it was a weekday, but small children should be playing outdoors on an unseasonably warm day like this.

  The other thing I noticed was a road blocked off for new construction. A freshly cut road. I hadn’t realized, when I was here before, that they were building more homes. That changed my perception of things altogether.

  My first thought had been that this had to be an inside job because the community had been advertised as a “gated and safe community” when I looked into purchasing the house. But now, with construction going on and a back entrance opened for those large trucks, anyone could be coming and going.

  Instead of driving straight to the victim’s house, I went to the house where I’d put in an offer. It had been the only house for sale at the time. There had been multiple offers on the three-bedroom, two-bath home. It was one of the smaller houses in the neighborhood and was considered a “starter home.” It had been foreclosed on when the previous owner’s job had fallen through. Even in that case, where the price was low, a steal really, it was still out of my price range, but I’d cast my hat in the ring anyway.

  As I rode by, there was no sign in the yard that indicated the house had been sold, and I hadn’t heard back from my realtor, so I was still in the running. Riding through, I noticed now there were several homes for sale. I could only imagine. Of course, those who could afford it would run for the hills. These crimes had been plaguing the community for a couple of months. The women here were clearly being targeted. I just found it strange that women were still out milling about, seemingly unafraid. Especially since there wasn’t a police presence at all, which was also alarming.

  I got out at the victim’s house and went to the door. I was really nervous. I’d never played detective before. Also, I wasn’t sure what kind of shape she would be in. She’d left the hospital without being discharged. Clearly, she wasn’t thinking straight.

  I knocked on the door with trepidation. Part of me wanted to run back to the car, but I decided to be brave. I’d come here for a good reason. I intended to see it through.

  The door to the large brick home swung open with such force that it bounced off the wall. Larissa was a tall, athletically built black woman with long, wavy hair. She swayed in the doorway, a glass of wine in her hand, seemingly undaunted for someone who’d just been assaulted.

  “Larissa?”

  “Hey, I know you.” She pointed. “You’re the checker of vaginas.”

  I pressed my lips into a line and nodded. “Yes, I suppose I am.”

  “I think mine has been thoroughly prodded today, but thanks for stopping by,” she slurred before reaching for the door.

  “Larissa, please. Could I come in? I really want to talk to you about—”

  “Look, I don’t know Jamie Phillips, okay? Just like I told that crooked cop. I’ve never met her. This is a huge neighborhood, lady. I don’t know everyone who lives here.”

  “Who is Jamie Phillips?”

  “You’re fucking with me, right? Am I being punked? I got raped this morning, in my front yard, and you came here to ask me about the first victim?”

  “No, that’s not why I’m here, Larissa. I’m here because you left the hospital without being discharged—” She walked away while I was speaking. I almost stepped inside, but she returned a moment later with a wad of cash.

  “Here,” she said, throwing it in my face. “That should cover it.”

  “Larissa, I didn’t come here for money,” I said, bending down to pick up the bills. “I came to help.”

  “I don’t need your help.”

  “I need your help,” I interjected. Larissa Dean was a matter-of-fact, no-nonsense kind of woman. I decided to level with her, even though she appeared to be three sheets to the wind. “I want to catch this piece of shit.”

  She studied me carefully for a moment before stepping to the side to let me in. As soon as I was inside, she slammed the door behind me. It was then that I noticed the pistol on the table beside the door. She hadn’t seemed afraid when she answered; now I knew why. I had no doubt that she was willing to give a little dose of old-fashioned lead poisoning to anyone who threatened her.

  “Are you working with that cop? Because I don’t have anything else to say to him.”

  “No. It’s just me.”

  She staggered over to the sofa in a very large formal living room. The house was magnificent, probably one of the biggest in the area. I assume it was usually well kept, too, but not today. Laundry was strewn across the room; there was broken glass on the floor that crackled under my feet, and a hospital gown draped on the back of the chaise lounge. The police had surely kept her clothing for evidence. I couldn’t believe she’d left the hospital in a gown. I’d seen it happen before, but not by someone as classy as Larissa Dean.

  “You can sit,” she said.

  I perched on the edge of the chaise lounge across from her. Bloodied footprints, from walking across the glass, marked her movements.

  “Larissa, what happened? Can you tell me? Do you feel comfortable talking about it?”

  “What are you, like five feet tall? What do you think you can do if you catch him?” She eyed me, seeming to sober up in the slightest. “Did he rape you too?”

  “No.”

  “So why do you care? Seems like you’re asking for trouble.”

  “Maybe so, but that’s my business.”

  Larissa pursed her lips and nodded, pouring herself another glass of wine. I imagined if anyone could hold their own, she could.

  “Did you know that I built my company from the ground up? No man gave me this. I provided for myself.”

  “That’s very admirable.”

  “Yeah, I’ve prided myself on that fact and look where it got me, face down in my front yard, at three o’clock in the morning, being piston pumped by some punk ass—”

  “What were you doing out at that hour?” I interrupted.

  She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward ever so slightly. “Are you implying that I deserved what I got?”

  “No! Absolutely not.”

  She let her head fall into her hands with a sob. “I’m sorry. I’m just so sorry. I’m sorry that I took that call. I’m sorry that I didn’t fight harder. I’m sorry that I will never forget the way his voice ground out, ‘Sweet tits.’”

  “So someone called you?”

  “Yes, I got a call from the guard at my building, in the city, saying that there was a problem that needed my attention right away. That’s why I was leaving for work so early.”

  “Do you know him?”

  “No, he was a fill-in from the security company.”

  “What was the problem?”

  “Who gives a shit? I was raped before I could get there.”

  I wondered if she’d been lured out, targeted. A super successful, independent woman, taken down to size by a man who clearly hated women.

  “Did the rapist say anything else besides sugar tits?”

  She rolled her tear-filled eyes. “Sweet tits. He said sweet, not sugar. And isn’t that objectifying enough?”

  I made a mental note because I really thoug
ht that someone had said the rapist said “sugar”, not “sweet”. Perhaps I should get an eighties notepad like Detective Dickhead.

  “Larissa, did he say anything else?”

  “Yeah, he took pleasure in degrading me while he tried to get it up. He called me an assortment of names that would make even me blush. When he finally got hard, he kept saying, ‘Yes, yes, yes, yes,’ with each thrust. Can we wrap this up? I feel the drugs kicking in.”

  “What drugs?”

  “The ones I was chasing down with this wine before you so rudely interrupted.”

  I called for an ambulance, fearing for her health since she’d mixed only God knows what with all of that alcohol. But while we waited, I took advantage of the twilight doze she was in.

  “Larissa, that cop at the hospital, Detective Morris, what else did he ask you about besides Jamie Phillips?”

  “Nothing,” she said before passing out. I monitored her until help arrived, and then I left.

  Todd Morris was only asking about the first victim? He hadn’t been gathering new details? That didn’t make any sense.

  Chapter 9

  After I got Larissa Dean off to the hospital to be checked out, I went straight to the library. Sure, I could’ve Googled anything from my own computer, but even though I wasn’t a seasoned criminal, I had enough walking around sense to know that covering tracks was harder than not making any in the first place. I’d already made my fair share.

  Todd Morris had already flexed his police muscles at me by showing up at my apartment building, even though I hadn’t given him my address. If he got a hard-on for me, he could easily check my computer search history.

  I found myself in a dimly lit corner of the public library. There hadn’t even been anyone at the desk to take my information so I could get a card. It worked out perfectly. I typed Jamie Phillips, Atlanta, Georgia into the search engine. Several annoying ads appeared for finding old friends and there were umpteen listings that matched that name on social media. I scrolled through I don’t know how many pages, not even sure what I was looking for.