Accused Criminal
3
Cold sweat trickled down her neck and Lana pressed her cheek into the coarse hospital pillow as she squeezed her eyes shut. A nightmare that had been her life played in her mind. Lana’s breaths were ragged and she attempted to erase from her mind the memories. Her stomach was knotted, and her throat tight.
When her eyes flew open, the hospital room was dark, filled with the beeping of monitors she remained connected to. The cold sweat continued to rush over her skin, the horrors remaining. Lana’s body ached and while the memories flooded her mind, the wounds her body had sustained burned white hot.
A sob passed over her lips and Lana attempted to lift her hand to her cheek to wipe away tears. She was still cuffed, a fact that she had forgotten.
The doctor came into the room shortly after Lana awoke, and promptly began scribbling on her chart, his eyes avoiding contact with her. While he worked, she studied him, attempting to push the terrors from her mind. She watched the manner he moved, pausing to think before writing. The pen scratched the paper. He looked to one monitor and then to the IV hanging at her bedside. Then it was unavoidable for his eyes to land on her. “Mrs. Andrews.”
“Doctor?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Pain.” Tears were threatening to fall once more, but she fought them, her lower lips trembling. “Especially the souls of my feet.”
“Yes. There were many lacerations. Anything else?” He spoke with a distant voice, one similar to every other doctor she had seen and yet colder. There was no personal connection between doctor and patient but this was stronger, it was as though he hated her.
Sucking down a short breath, Lana looked away. “I want to be un-cuffed.”
“That is not up to me.”
Her head jerked as she looked up at him, pinching her lips together. “Tell them… tell them I’m too injured to be a threat. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m not dangerous, Doctor. I’m just in pain.”
The doctor sighed, placing her chart at the end of her bed and looking towards the monitor that projected her pulse. “You know, Mrs. Andrews, it is a miracle you survived.”
“Miracle,” she sighed. “I nearly died, and for that I got arrested.”
“You killed a man.” There had been a moment when the Doctor had let his guard down, but the ice returned to his voice and he turned sharply from the hospital bed.
“In self-defense!”
He closed the door behind him, white coat and sandy hair vanishing.
Lana sighed, sinking onto the bed with a heavy heart. Her mind turned over many thoughts while she was alone in the room. Some consideration was placed upon the situation she resided in but her mind continued wandering upon the past. There was something in the turn of events that was not quite unsuspecting. Mr. Andrews’ clients were often dangerous men and women. While her husband was particularly skilled as a defense lawyer, there arose occurrences when clients were sent to jail. A case taken by her husband did not come with a guarantee. Lana considered that a client might learn about her husband’s personal life, such as the detail that he was married and had a daughter.
Lana began a new wave of terror and sadness, a combination bringing tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat. Cameron, her daughter, could have also been a target. Although Howard had not mentioned any harm befalling their little girl, Lana noted he had not mentioned her at all.
The monitor’s beeps became frantic as her heart pounded in her chest and moments later the doctor flew through the door, white coat flourishing behind him like a superhero’s cape.
“Mrs. Andrews?” Hands pushed her down on the bed, attempting to restrain her movements.
“My daughter, I need to see my daughter, and my husband.” Somehow, over the pain her body was already consumed with, she felt a prick, small like a bee sting, in her upper arm. Then the room swirled, the doctor’s tanned face a blur near her face.
“Go back to sleep, Mrs. Andrews,” he spoke and hot breath brushed her cheek.
Eyelids fluttered before shutting completely, snapping out the light. Her mind wandered, drugged, into a fog and then sleep.
When she awoke from the drug induced rest, Lana’s panic and concern for her daughter was subdued as her mind slowly returned to a focused thought process.
“Lana,” Howard sat at the side of the bed, a detective over each shoulder. “These detectives are going to take a complete statement from you.”
“Howard,” she attempted to push herself up, metal handcuffs clanking against the railings.
One of the detectives, the dark haired man, retrieved a badge from inside his long trench coat and promptly hung it before her face. “We need you to walk us through what happened, Mrs. Andrews.” He replaced the badge and withdrew a recorder, small and silver with a small red light signifying that it was on. “Just start with the morning of the day you went missing.”
She sighed, considering that her husband the lawyer was there with her. He would protect her from these men and direct her in the way of the law.
“I woke up around six and had some coffee. Then I woke Cameron, our daughter, up around seven. I made breakfast: eggs and waffles. She went over to a friend’s house and I went to get groceries. My husband, Howard,” she looked at him with a tense smile, “was already at work, per usual. When I was coming out of the store, someone grabbed me…”
“Any idea who? Man? Woman?”
Lana shook her head. “I- I think it was the man who tortured me, but I didn’t get a look really.”
“What kind of car were you taken in?”
Again she shook her head, this time her eyes slipped closed and she sighed.
“Continue, Lana,” her husband ordered.
“I must have been drugged because I woke up and was chained to a chair in a dark room. He… There was a man there and he just started,” a sob broke in her chest and flew over her lips. “He cut me, beat me… bur-burned me and,” her eyes fell to her bandaged hands, “removed my nails. He never asked me any questions and I couldn’t really see him. It was dark except this fire he used to heat up…a poker and other things. I do-don’t know how long he had me, but I was chain to the ground and the chair… the chair, where the chains were connected to the chair, I guess they broke when I struggled as he-he drowned me, and then I grabbed the poker and stabbed him… I broke the chains and found the door but I didn’t know where I was and I was in so much pain and could go far as I was… I went back into the room, and I took my anger out on him…” Lana’s cheeks were wet with tears and her vision blurred as she studied the three men. The two detectives shared similar looks, ones that she could not read, while her husband looked at her with a cold calculation.
“And,” the blonde detective, Detective Mathews, spoke, “you said you did not know the man?”
She nodded, curious as to what more they could want from her.
“Ma’am, we are detectives handling your case, working with the police to find the truth here. You can either talk to us or we can bring in officers to question you. Please do not make this hard on yourself. Just tell us the truth.”
“I am.” She gaped at them, shocked.
“We have found the connection between yourself and the man. Things could have just gotten out of hand. It could have been an accident.”
“I was kidnapped.”
“Mrs. Andrews, isn’t it true that you had been secretly meeting this man for almost four months now?”
“No!” Wide eyes jumped to her husband. He started at her smugly, confidence radiating from him. “I don’t know the man.”
“Mrs. Andrews, you have quite the masochistic and sadistic history.”
“What?”
“We found your… items.” Detective Mathews looks down at Mr. Andrews and then back to Lana, shaking his head with disgust.
“I do not know what you are speaking of,” she said with honest surprise and confusion. She and her husband had not been intimate in months, and in all the years that they had been together sexually, Lana and Howard had only done it in one position: missionary. Howard wasn’t passionate in the bedroom and Lana didn’t have an appetite for sex. They were both pleased with each other when they did copulate, and she could remember their first time together rather vividly. “I’ve never been masochistic or sadistic.”
“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Andrews, that your husband and yourself have not had sexual intercourse in almost five months?”
“That sounds right.”
“And you were bored until you met Mr. Lowell and became his lover. He shared you passion for pain and you two have been together for four months now.”
“No.”
“Maybe you met online, or at the store you claim to have been taken from.”
“No.”
“You let him take you to that room, expecting just a normal round, but you took things too far and he died… or did he threaten to expose your affair to Mr. Andrews?”
“No! None of that happened. I was kidnapped.”
Howard stood and turned to the detectives. “I think that you should leave now. Mrs. Andrews has nothing more to say.”
When her eyes flew open, the hospital room was dark, filled with the beeping of monitors she remained connected to. The cold sweat continued to rush over her skin, the horrors remaining. Lana’s body ached and while the memories flooded her mind, the wounds her body had sustained burned white hot.
A sob passed over her lips and Lana attempted to lift her hand to her cheek to wipe away tears. She was still cuffed, a fact that she had forgotten.
The doctor came into the room shortly after Lana awoke, and promptly began scribbling on her chart, his eyes avoiding contact with her. While he worked, she studied him, attempting to push the terrors from her mind. She watched the manner he moved, pausing to think before writing. The pen scratched the paper. He looked to one monitor and then to the IV hanging at her bedside. Then it was unavoidable for his eyes to land on her. “Mrs. Andrews.”
“Doctor?”
“How are you feeling?”
“Pain.” Tears were threatening to fall once more, but she fought them, her lower lips trembling. “Especially the souls of my feet.”
“Yes. There were many lacerations. Anything else?” He spoke with a distant voice, one similar to every other doctor she had seen and yet colder. There was no personal connection between doctor and patient but this was stronger, it was as though he hated her.
Sucking down a short breath, Lana looked away. “I want to be un-cuffed.”
“That is not up to me.”
Her head jerked as she looked up at him, pinching her lips together. “Tell them… tell them I’m too injured to be a threat. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I’m not dangerous, Doctor. I’m just in pain.”
The doctor sighed, placing her chart at the end of her bed and looking towards the monitor that projected her pulse. “You know, Mrs. Andrews, it is a miracle you survived.”
“Miracle,” she sighed. “I nearly died, and for that I got arrested.”
“You killed a man.” There had been a moment when the Doctor had let his guard down, but the ice returned to his voice and he turned sharply from the hospital bed.
“In self-defense!”
He closed the door behind him, white coat and sandy hair vanishing.
Lana sighed, sinking onto the bed with a heavy heart. Her mind turned over many thoughts while she was alone in the room. Some consideration was placed upon the situation she resided in but her mind continued wandering upon the past. There was something in the turn of events that was not quite unsuspecting. Mr. Andrews’ clients were often dangerous men and women. While her husband was particularly skilled as a defense lawyer, there arose occurrences when clients were sent to jail. A case taken by her husband did not come with a guarantee. Lana considered that a client might learn about her husband’s personal life, such as the detail that he was married and had a daughter.
Lana began a new wave of terror and sadness, a combination bringing tears to her eyes and a lump to her throat. Cameron, her daughter, could have also been a target. Although Howard had not mentioned any harm befalling their little girl, Lana noted he had not mentioned her at all.
The monitor’s beeps became frantic as her heart pounded in her chest and moments later the doctor flew through the door, white coat flourishing behind him like a superhero’s cape.
“Mrs. Andrews?” Hands pushed her down on the bed, attempting to restrain her movements.
“My daughter, I need to see my daughter, and my husband.” Somehow, over the pain her body was already consumed with, she felt a prick, small like a bee sting, in her upper arm. Then the room swirled, the doctor’s tanned face a blur near her face.
“Go back to sleep, Mrs. Andrews,” he spoke and hot breath brushed her cheek.
Eyelids fluttered before shutting completely, snapping out the light. Her mind wandered, drugged, into a fog and then sleep.
When she awoke from the drug induced rest, Lana’s panic and concern for her daughter was subdued as her mind slowly returned to a focused thought process.
“Lana,” Howard sat at the side of the bed, a detective over each shoulder. “These detectives are going to take a complete statement from you.”
“Howard,” she attempted to push herself up, metal handcuffs clanking against the railings.
One of the detectives, the dark haired man, retrieved a badge from inside his long trench coat and promptly hung it before her face. “We need you to walk us through what happened, Mrs. Andrews.” He replaced the badge and withdrew a recorder, small and silver with a small red light signifying that it was on. “Just start with the morning of the day you went missing.”
She sighed, considering that her husband the lawyer was there with her. He would protect her from these men and direct her in the way of the law.
“I woke up around six and had some coffee. Then I woke Cameron, our daughter, up around seven. I made breakfast: eggs and waffles. She went over to a friend’s house and I went to get groceries. My husband, Howard,” she looked at him with a tense smile, “was already at work, per usual. When I was coming out of the store, someone grabbed me…”
“Any idea who? Man? Woman?”
Lana shook her head. “I- I think it was the man who tortured me, but I didn’t get a look really.”
“What kind of car were you taken in?”
Again she shook her head, this time her eyes slipped closed and she sighed.
“Continue, Lana,” her husband ordered.
“I must have been drugged because I woke up and was chained to a chair in a dark room. He… There was a man there and he just started,” a sob broke in her chest and flew over her lips. “He cut me, beat me… bur-burned me and,” her eyes fell to her bandaged hands, “removed my nails. He never asked me any questions and I couldn’t really see him. It was dark except this fire he used to heat up…a poker and other things. I do-don’t know how long he had me, but I was chain to the ground and the chair… the chair, where the chains were connected to the chair, I guess they broke when I struggled as he-he drowned me, and then I grabbed the poker and stabbed him… I broke the chains and found the door but I didn’t know where I was and I was in so much pain and could go far as I was… I went back into the room, and I took my anger out on him…” Lana’s cheeks were wet with tears and her vision blurred as she studied the three men. The two detectives shared similar looks, ones that she could not read, while her husband looked at her with a cold calculation.
“And,” the blonde detective, Detective Mathews, spoke, “you said you did not know the man?”
She nodded, curious as to what more they could want from her.
“Ma’am, we are detectives handling your case, working with the police to find the truth here. You can either talk to us or we can bring in officers to question you. Please do not make this hard on yourself. Just tell us the truth.”
“I am.” She gaped at them, shocked.
“We have found the connection between yourself and the man. Things could have just gotten out of hand. It could have been an accident.”
“I was kidnapped.”
“Mrs. Andrews, isn’t it true that you had been secretly meeting this man for almost four months now?”
“No!” Wide eyes jumped to her husband. He started at her smugly, confidence radiating from him. “I don’t know the man.”
“Mrs. Andrews, you have quite the masochistic and sadistic history.”
“What?”
“We found your… items.” Detective Mathews looks down at Mr. Andrews and then back to Lana, shaking his head with disgust.
“I do not know what you are speaking of,” she said with honest surprise and confusion. She and her husband had not been intimate in months, and in all the years that they had been together sexually, Lana and Howard had only done it in one position: missionary. Howard wasn’t passionate in the bedroom and Lana didn’t have an appetite for sex. They were both pleased with each other when they did copulate, and she could remember their first time together rather vividly. “I’ve never been masochistic or sadistic.”
“Isn’t it true, Mrs. Andrews, that your husband and yourself have not had sexual intercourse in almost five months?”
“That sounds right.”
“And you were bored until you met Mr. Lowell and became his lover. He shared you passion for pain and you two have been together for four months now.”
“No.”
“Maybe you met online, or at the store you claim to have been taken from.”
“No.”
“You let him take you to that room, expecting just a normal round, but you took things too far and he died… or did he threaten to expose your affair to Mr. Andrews?”
“No! None of that happened. I was kidnapped.”
Howard stood and turned to the detectives. “I think that you should leave now. Mrs. Andrews has nothing more to say.”