Do No Harm (Dr. Aubrey Drake #1) Read online

  My eyes were tired from getting such little sleep. Suddenly, the whole crackpot idea of thinking I could stop a rapist seemed ludicrous. I laughed at myself, a humorless laugh. How could I have thought—

  “Wait,” I whispered to myself. I typed: Jamie Phillips, Atlanta news. That search yielded useful results…pages upon pages of them. I opened one of the results and began reading.

  Friday evening around eleven-thirty, twenty-one-year-old Jamie Phillips was walking home from a friend’s house in The Village, an upscale, gated community just east of Atlanta, when she was attacked from behind. She has come forward with her story, openly stating that there have been no leads in the case because of what she feels is a lack of police involvement.

  “They don’t care,” she stated. “They aren’t even investigating.”

  The police department responded with the following statement: “We are looking for her attacker. We understand Ms. Phillips’ frustration, but the fact is that we just do not have any evidence, nor do we have any leads. We encourage anyone with information to please contact the police department.”

  Ms. Phillips is a college student home for the holidays. She had been out jogging earlier in the evening when she ran into one of her childhood friends. She went into the house to visit for a while, ate dinner there, and they watched a movie. She called her parents around ten to tell them she was on her way home. When she didn’t arrive, they didn’t worry. They just assumed she’d gotten caught up in conversation again.

  “Jamie loves to talk,” her dad told us. “I never thought that my baby girl…” He trailed off, becoming too emotional to continue the interview.

  Jamie wants the world to know that she was raped. She was raped, and she won’t keep quiet.

  “I won’t be another faceless victim. I may not have been able to fight him off, but I will never stop fighting to find him. The best thing for him to do is turn himself in.”

  Jamie went on to describe details about the incident, which are too graphic for print, but we can say this: Jamie won’t back down. She believes him to be of medium build and white. She said he spoke to her in a whisper and believes he did so to possibly disguise an accent of some kind.

  “I’m reaching out to my community, to my city. Please help me find this man. If this can happen on my block, it can happen anywhere.”

  I scrunched my nose up at that comment. That one had likely come back to bite her, even though she probably hadn’t meant anything by it. People, in general, didn’t like to be slapped in the face by social status. The whole thing reminded me of what Todd had said about The Village families. He’d called them “rich bitches.” Reading that poorly written article had most likely given a lot of people that vibe.

  That was an archived article written a year ago. I saw several others that read the same way, but no follow-ups. Obviously, Jamie had backed down. There were two families listed in The Village with that name, but one was spelled differently, so I took a pen from the desk to take down Jamie’s parents’ address…

  “Oh my word…” I said so loud that someone shushed me. It was the house I’d bid on. It was my house.

  I walked out of the library, taking out my cell phone. I dialed my realtor right away.

  “Dr. Drake, I didn’t lie. I assure you. Please try to understand that I’m on your side.”

  “It doesn’t feel like it. You should’ve told me that someone was raped there.”

  “But she wasn’t. She wasn’t raped at the house—”

  “That’s a technicality, and you know it!”

  “Am I to take it that you’ll be withdrawing your offer on the house?”

  I was silent for a moment. “Not yet.” Then I hung up. I had a lot of thinking to do, and a lot to figure out. I was desperate for more information. If Jamie Phillips was Detective Morris’ lead, then she would be mine too. I had to find her and figure out why she was so important to him. Why he was so fixated on her story.

  Obviously, I could grasp why the first victim was imperative to an investigation. What I didn’t understand was why the detective wouldn’t even ask a new victim any questions regarding her own experience. Instead, he’d asked the new victim only about the first victim. It didn’t make sense. So much about all of this didn’t make sense.

  I found myself back at the house that I thought I was certain I’d wanted a few days before; a house that was owned by the parents of The Village Rapist’s first victim. There’d been a different guard at the gate this time, but he still hadn’t said anything about the lurking danger in the neighborhood.

  It was around dusk when I knocked on the door of one of the neighbors. A woman came to the door with an apron around her waist covering her pencil skirt. The unmistakable smell of pot roast wafted out of the house.

  “Can I help you?” she asked. She looked to be a little older than my mom, and she was dressed to the nines for someone cooking dinner.

  “Um, yes, ma’am. Hi, my name is Dr. Aubrey Drake, and I’m looking to buy the house next door. I just wanted to meet the neighbors.”

  She stared at me for a beat. “I wasn’t aware the house had sold.”

  I didn’t correct the misunderstanding. I just smiled and held out my hand.

  “Oh my, my manners have escaped me.” She dusted her hand on her apron and shook mine. “Please come in. Dinner is almost ready, but I have a few minutes to chat before my husband gets home.”

  She ushered me into the sitting room just inside the doorway. Her house, like the one next door, was one of the smaller ones. The houses on this street were dwarfed by the others. It was as though the builders had decided to put in an “affordable” section but changed their minds upon completing the one street.

  “Would you like something to drink?”

  “Oh, no, thank you. I’m new to the city. I just wanted to meet some people, ask about the neighborhood, things like that.”

  I sat down, and she sat across from me. “Did you say you are a doctor?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I just started at ATL Regional. I’m an emergency room physician and trauma surgeon.”

  “Oh, how exciting.”

  “It is, very much so,” I told her, feeling like I was avoiding the purpose of my visit. “Missus…?”

  “Higginbotham. You can call me Rebecca. We’re neighbors now, after all.”

  “Rebecca,” I said with a smile, “I have to confide in you. I’m very concerned about the current state of this neighborhood.”

  She blinked several times. “How do you mean?”

  “I mean, is it safe here?”

  She laughed. “Of course it’s safe.” I felt like I was sort of in an episode of The Twilight Zone where everyone was either blissfully ignorant or had been brainwashed. All of the women out jogging and milling around, the security guards laxly letting anyone through, and now this? I decided on a different course.

  “Of course.” I agreed. “What of the people who used to live in the house next door? Were they nice people?”

  Emotion filled her eyes. She tried to hide it, but it was apparent that she’d not only known the Phillips family, she’d been close with them.

  “They had some personal issues, I think. They were very private.”

  “Hmm, I was told that the previous owners were living beyond their means and simply couldn’t afford the place.”

  “That’s an out-and-out lie!” she snapped. She squared her shoulders and crossed her ankles like a good debutant. It was clear she thought I was insulting her former neighbors. “They were good people. They were driven out.”

  “Driven out?”

  “I really shouldn’t be discussing—”

  “Please.” I reached out and touched her hand.

  She looked down at my hand on hers then back up to my eyes, as though human touch had been lacking in her life for some time. She laid her other hand on top of mine to hammer home the fact.

  “That poor Jamie. I’m certain that she never expected such a backlash. She didn’
t even live here anymore. She lived on campus. Her parents caught the brunt of it.”

  “I don’t understand.” At first, I thought she was sympathizing with Jamie because she’d been raped, but that didn’t seem like what she was doing at all.

  “When Jamie made that statement to the press…it tainted our community. We asked her to retract, but she refused. She wouldn’t listen to reason. We went to her parents, but they stood behind her, so you see, they left us no choice.”

  I slipped my hand from between hers then.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The whole thing just had to go. All of it. Even them.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I didn’t do anything. There were others, though. They did what had to be done.”

  “They made them move?”

  “Don’t be silly. You can’t make someone move. They moved of their own free will. It did take some convincing. People around here can be very convincing,” she said, staring off into space. I knew what she meant. She meant manipulative. Those people had been forced to move, probably blackmailed, threatened, or who knows what.

  “Where did they go?”

  That seemed to grab her attention. She looked back at me. “Did I offer you a beverage?”

  “Yes, thank you. Where did the Phillips family move?”

  “I can’t be sure, but I know it was far away. They had family dabbed all over the country.”

  “So, Jamie could be anywhere,” I said.

  “No, Jamie stayed. She never went back to school. She tried to come back here a couple of times, but needless to say, she’s been banned from the whole community. She doesn’t speak to the press anymore, though. She doesn’t want to cause any more trouble for her family, but I know she’s still looking for him.”

  “The rapist?”

  “The man who she says raped her.”

  “You don’t believe her?” I asked in shock.

  “Of course not. No one believed her. Things like that never happen here.”

  “Well, they’re happening now!” I couldn’t help but raise my voice. “They’re happening, Mrs. Higginbotham.”

  “That may be so, Dr. Drake, but Jamie brought it here by telling that tale of hers. There was never a rapist here, until she invited one with that story. The only rapist here is one that Jamie created and someone duplicated.”

  “You’re kidding, right? I mean surely—”

  “I certainly am not. Jamie had quite the imagination, even a child. Even though they were my friends, I have to say her parents allowed it. They even encouraged Jamie to create these tall tales.”

  “Such as?”

  “Oh gosh, she had an imaginary friend until she was eight. Then there was that story she made up about the Johnsons’ nephew. Her parents let her go on and on about it until no one would hardly have anything to do with the Phillips anymore…except me. I tried to continue being friendly with them, right up until the neighborhood association decided they should move on.”

  “Uh-huh.” Yeah, right. I nodded. “Who are the Johnsons, and what did Jamie say about them?”

  “The story isn’t really worth repeating, but it’s nice to have girl talk again. No one on this street keeps in touch anymore, and the others, well, the others don’t really acknowledge this as part of the neighborhood. Oh, my, I shouldn’t have said that. This street is just as elite as any other part of the neighborhood, dear.”

  “It’s fine. Please, what happened with the Johnsons?”

  “Well, Jamie got it in her head that she was the object of that boy’s affection. He was older, and she flirted with him incessantly at first, but then she flipped the switch. She told everyone that he peeped in her windows and followed her around town all summer. It ran the poor boy off.”

  “How do you know she was lying?”

  “The boy left town, and that still wasn’t enough. Jamie continued the charade. She enjoyed the attention, I suppose.”

  “Could that have been the person who raped her? Was that investigated?”

  “She wasn’t raped.”

  “Yes, she was, Mrs. Higginbotham! She was raped. What is wrong with you people?”

  She stared at me for a moment. Then a man walked in. He froze in the entryway, clearly not expecting company. Mrs. Higginbotham and I both stood up. No one said anything for a few seconds. It was very awkward.

  “Hi, I’m Dr. Aubrey Drake,” I said, introducing myself. “I was looking to purchase the house next door and just wanted to meet the neighbors.”

  “Ah, nice to meet you, Ms. Drake. Rebecca, drink,” he demanded. She scurried into the kitchen to fetch him a beverage.

  “Doctor Drake,” I corrected, but he didn’t pay me any mind. He sat down with his hand open, awaiting the drink he clearly felt should’ve been waiting for him.

  “So you came to pry about the Phillips family,” he said bluntly. I actually appreciated his cutting through the shit.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Jamie was, still is, a troubled girl. Her family moved away, and now you will benefit from their misfortune.” I gawked at him. “There’s no shame in that. I’ve seen every offer on that house, and I can tell you the house is only affordable to most of the applicants because of that mishap.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to such a cold-hearted remark, so instead, I reverted back to my original question. “Women are being raped here every week, sometimes several times a week. How can you people ignore that?”

  “Miss Drake—”

  “Doctor,” I said more firmly. I’d earned that title, and I refused to let this pompous asshole disrespect me.

  “Okay, well, the fact is that, statistically, women are attacked all over the nation every day. The Village is the safest community in the city, even in the state, several years running. A few attacks won’t change that. There are some inside these gates, but there are many out there. Surely, if you’re a doctor, you can calculate how the number of alleged attacks inside The Village wouldn’t even touch the recorded attacks in the city.”

  “How can you be so callous?”

  “I’m not being callous. I’m being honest.” He snapped his fingers as his wife hurried back into the room with what looked to be an alcoholic beverage. I felt the need for one, too, at this point.

  “Listen, Miss, ah, Doctor, every neighborhood has problems. We prefer to handle our own. Handling this from the inside will keep property values up, and that’s what we all want.”

  “You should all want to keep each other safe!”

  “Of course we want that. That’s why we have private security.”

  “I saw women strolling around like nothing bad had ever happened here.”

  “That’s because they have private security.”

  “I didn’t see any,” I said.

  “Well, that’s my business, and I can tell you that if you didn’t see them, they’re doing a good job. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re about to sit down to dinner. I would extend an invitation, but I’m not sure you’re Village material, Doctor Drake. I would advise you to think long and hard before you sign any papers on the house next door.” He stood and walked toward the kitchen. “Rebecca, see Miss Drake out.”

  I was shell-shocked. I’d never met someone so uncaring, so heartless. Rebecca ushered me to the door.

  “I’m sorry, Dr. Drake. I do think we would’ve made nice neighbors, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. We’ll be moving soon enough.”

  “Moving?”

  “Oh yes; Howard got us a house in the larger part of the neighborhood. With all that’s going on, the security business has never been better. Careful walking to your car, now,” she whispered as she shut the door.

  Chapter 10

  As I walked back to my car, my mind was working overtime. Something wasn’t right about those people. She was a Stepford if I’d ever seen one, and he was just horrible. They were completely apathetic about Jamie and everything else that was happening.

  I deci
ded to leave using the new road, where they were doing construction, to obtain new clues. I thought if I knew where it dropped out, it would be helpful, but before I got there, I saw a big sign under the streetlamp that read: New Homes Coming Soon by Fowler Construction.

  “What the…” I said aloud to myself. I wondered if it was the same Fowlers that used to own the hospital, the same Fowler who was my boss. Could that mean something? The road became impassable about a quarter of a mile down. It was just a dirt road after that, and my little car wasn’t having the big mud holes made by the comings and goings of large trucks. I turned around and headed back to the main entrance, deciding to give up for the day. I certainly didn’t want to get stuck on a dirt road in what was, in my personal opinion, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in this city for women.

  When I got to the gate, yet another guard was on duty. I noticed “Higgins” sewn into his shirt. It was the same name sewn into the shirt of the guard who’d let me in the first time. It wasn’t that common of a name. So, when I handed him my visitor decal, I asked him about it.

  “Higgins, is that your name?”

  He laughed. “I wish!”

  “You do?” I asked with a smile. “Why is that?”

  “Because they are getting richer by the day.”

  “They?”

  “The Higginbothams. Higgins Security is owned by Mr. and Mrs. Higginbotham.”

  Of course, if I hadn’t been so exhausted, I probably could’ve deduced that.

  “I have another question. Do y’all just let anyone come through here? I mean, isn’t the point of security to keep people out?”

  “It used to be, but not anymore. Since all of the trouble started, we’re on strict orders from Mr. Higginbotham himself to allow people to come and go as they please. We’re supposed to act like nothing out of the ordinary is going on.”

  “Why? That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “It does if you’re Fowler construction and you want to keep selling million-dollar houses, in a community that has women being attacked on a weekly basis. It also makes sense if you’re Higginbotham and making a living off of rich men hiring private security for their wives, so they can walk around and act like nothing is happening.”