“If you thought that, why not come forward?” Amanda asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” Crystal’s brows knotted. “I was terrified for my life, for Simon’s. I’m als
o terrified that you’re going to rip us apart.”
Amanda looked at Simon, and he stiffened.
“No!” Crystal cried out.
“She’s sixteen years old, Simon.” Amanda attempted to appeal to his maturity. “You are how old?”
“Twenty-four.”
“You knew that she was, and still is, a minor,” Amanda concluded.
He looked at Crystal and took her hand. He kissed the back of it.
“Time to go.” Amanda gestured for Simon to get to his feet and cuffed him. “You’re under arrest for kidnapping and multiple counts of statutory rape.”
“No!” Crystal shouted again.
Amanda proceeded to read off his Miranda rights as Crystal went berserk, screaming and wailing.
The night had certainly taken a different turn than Amanda had planned, but that was life. Always tossing curveballs when you least expected.
Forty-Five
Amanda pried her eyes open, and the clock on her nightstand told her it was just a few minutes after eight. It had been five in the morning when she’d finally arrived home after taking Crystal back to her parents in Washington. Amanda had even hung around a little for the reunion, and that had sapped more life from her. Crystal’s mother, Leila, had collapsed into herself as she held her daughter tight. Henry had latched onto his wife and daughter and was even more outwardly emotional than Leila. He sobbed loudly, letting the tears stream down his face.
Amanda had made sure Simon West was booked for kidnapping and multiple counts of statutory rape. The cherry on top? Possession of an unregistered firearm, as it turned out.
All that in a day’s work—technically today’s work—from two thirty to five this morning.
She just wanted to burrow her head deeper into her pillow and pull the covers over her face… shut her eyes. But she had a killer to stop. She got out of bed, went through her morning routine, and was about to leave when there was a knock on her door.
Amanda froze, her heart thumping wildly. Was the killer standing on her front step ready to overpower her the second she opened the door? Did killers knock? She shook her crazy imaginings away but laid her hand over her hostler, ready to pull her Glock if needed.
She stood on her tiptoes to see out the high window in the door. Logan stood on the doorstep with flowers. She took a deep breath and opened the door. “Hello… What are you doing here?”
He smiled and extended the bouquet. “Thought I’d hand deliver these.”
She took the flowers from him. “What are they for?”
“Your birthday. It is today?”
She sniffed the blooms appreciatively but shook her head. “It’s tomorrow.”
“Shoot! I thought for sure I had it right. Well, it’s better early than late.” He hugged her and tapped a quick kiss on her mouth.
She licked her lips and smiled. “I wish I could ask you in, but I have to be going.” She touched his cheek, appreciating that his face was becoming familiar and trusted, even a comfort.
“No problem. I’ve got to get to a dentist appointment myself. Just figured I’d try to catch you. I swung by last night, but you weren’t here.” There was the enclosed question of her whereabouts, and she’d answer—this time.
“I’m working all hours right now. I actually didn’t get in until after five.”
“I don’t know how you pull it off.”
“Me either, honestly.”