you were the closest.”
“Last time I checked, Walt, I was also a civilian.”
“Consider yourself deputized. Seriously. It’s done.”
“I want a badge,” she said. “And a car with a siren.”
“So noted.”
They were shown into a brightly lit examination room that held an array of colorful machines hung from stainless steel stands, yards of clear plastic tubing, and three boxes of different-colored examination gloves.
Fiona saw the young woman’s face and gasped.
Her reaction turned Walt toward her. “Listen, if you can’t handle this—”
“It’s not that!” she countered in a whisper. “I know her, Walt. From the wedding. Last night’s wedding. On the dance floor. She was there, for heaven’s sake.”
“Can you do this?” he asked.
“Of course.”
The girl’s knees were raised beneath a white cotton sheet adorned with pale blue bees, her head elevated by several pillows. Beneath the blotchy complexion and runny nose, she was a pretty girl of nineteen, but with a tormented sadness in her dull eyes that cut to the quick. Her red hair was a tangled mess. Her makeup was smeared down her face. There were bundles of oversized paper bags on a rolling table to the left of the bed. Her clothes and belongings. One of those bags would contain a bedsheet she would have stood on while undressing—Walt wanted a look at any debris that had fallen off her.
The nurse was an attractive woman in her late forties wearing the name tag HOPE on the chest of her scrubs. She spoke in a dry, husky voice.
“Her behavior when we admitted her was consistent with date rape. Catatonic. Possibly a result of shock, but more likely the drugs. I wouldn’t be surprised to find either Rohypnol or ketamine. Bloods are cooking in the lab. Injuries are consistent with oral, anal, and vaginal penetration. We’ll run a rape kit on her next, but that can take hours. I was told to wait for you guys first.”
“I’d like to talk to her, if possible,” Walt explained. “And I’ve asked Deputy Kenshaw to take a few pictures—face and hands.”
“I’ve got no problem with that.” She leaned over the victim. “Kira? The police are here.”
The girl squinted open bloodshot blue eyes. She didn’t focus well. Her pupils were completely dilated, making him think of Roman death masks with coins placed over the eyes.
Walt kept his voice low. He made introductions. “Can I ask you a few questions, Kira?”
“I don’t remember anything,” she said, sounding doped. She took a sip of water from a straw offered by the nurse. Tears followed tracks down her cheeks.
“Sometimes we know more than we think. What’s the last thing you recall?”
“We were at Whiskey’s . . . dancing. Then I woke up in this car.” She pinched her eyes shut tightly. “He dropped me out front, I think.”
“He?” Walt asked the girl. “Do you know whoever drove you?”
She opened her eyes and looked at Walt as if she’d never seen him. “Who are you?”
Walt reintroduced himself and Fiona. “Did you get a good look at the man that dropped you off? Do you know him, Kira?”
She stared right through him.
“A friend? Family? Someone from the wedding?” he asked.
He thought he’d lost her. Her eyes rolled up and her lids closed. Her chest rose and fell heavily. “KB’s,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
KB’s was a burrito shop in town. Two restaurants: one in Hailey, one in Ketchum.
“Someone you know from KB’s?” Walt asked, a jolt of energy pulsing through him.
Her head rocked faintly side to side. Or maybe she had just nodded off.
“A person who works there?”
“KB’s.” Her lips moved silently.
“KB’s,” Walt repeated back to her.
Her head moved infinitesimally.
“She just nodded, yes?” he asked Fiona, who shrugged. “Kira?”
A minute or two passed. It seemed much longer.
“My two cents?” the nurse said.
Walt nodded.
“The bruising indicates violent assault. This wasn’t a frat house
“Last time I checked, Walt, I was also a civilian.”
“Consider yourself deputized. Seriously. It’s done.”
“I want a badge,” she said. “And a car with a siren.”
“So noted.”
They were shown into a brightly lit examination room that held an array of colorful machines hung from stainless steel stands, yards of clear plastic tubing, and three boxes of different-colored examination gloves.
Fiona saw the young woman’s face and gasped.
Her reaction turned Walt toward her. “Listen, if you can’t handle this—”
“It’s not that!” she countered in a whisper. “I know her, Walt. From the wedding. Last night’s wedding. On the dance floor. She was there, for heaven’s sake.”
“Can you do this?” he asked.
“Of course.”
The girl’s knees were raised beneath a white cotton sheet adorned with pale blue bees, her head elevated by several pillows. Beneath the blotchy complexion and runny nose, she was a pretty girl of nineteen, but with a tormented sadness in her dull eyes that cut to the quick. Her red hair was a tangled mess. Her makeup was smeared down her face. There were bundles of oversized paper bags on a rolling table to the left of the bed. Her clothes and belongings. One of those bags would contain a bedsheet she would have stood on while undressing—Walt wanted a look at any debris that had fallen off her.
The nurse was an attractive woman in her late forties wearing the name tag HOPE on the chest of her scrubs. She spoke in a dry, husky voice.
“Her behavior when we admitted her was consistent with date rape. Catatonic. Possibly a result of shock, but more likely the drugs. I wouldn’t be surprised to find either Rohypnol or ketamine. Bloods are cooking in the lab. Injuries are consistent with oral, anal, and vaginal penetration. We’ll run a rape kit on her next, but that can take hours. I was told to wait for you guys first.”
“I’d like to talk to her, if possible,” Walt explained. “And I’ve asked Deputy Kenshaw to take a few pictures—face and hands.”
“I’ve got no problem with that.” She leaned over the victim. “Kira? The police are here.”
The girl squinted open bloodshot blue eyes. She didn’t focus well. Her pupils were completely dilated, making him think of Roman death masks with coins placed over the eyes.
Walt kept his voice low. He made introductions. “Can I ask you a few questions, Kira?”
“I don’t remember anything,” she said, sounding doped. She took a sip of water from a straw offered by the nurse. Tears followed tracks down her cheeks.
“Sometimes we know more than we think. What’s the last thing you recall?”
“We were at Whiskey’s . . . dancing. Then I woke up in this car.” She pinched her eyes shut tightly. “He dropped me out front, I think.”
“He?” Walt asked the girl. “Do you know whoever drove you?”
She opened her eyes and looked at Walt as if she’d never seen him. “Who are you?”
Walt reintroduced himself and Fiona. “Did you get a good look at the man that dropped you off? Do you know him, Kira?”
She stared right through him.
“A friend? Family? Someone from the wedding?” he asked.
He thought he’d lost her. Her eyes rolled up and her lids closed. Her chest rose and fell heavily. “KB’s,” she whispered almost inaudibly.
KB’s was a burrito shop in town. Two restaurants: one in Hailey, one in Ketchum.
“Someone you know from KB’s?” Walt asked, a jolt of energy pulsing through him.
Her head rocked faintly side to side. Or maybe she had just nodded off.
“A person who works there?”
“KB’s.” Her lips moved silently.
“KB’s,” Walt repeated back to her.
Her head moved infinitesimally.
“She just nodded, yes?” he asked Fiona, who shrugged. “Kira?”
A minute or two passed. It seemed much longer.
“My two cents?” the nurse said.
Walt nodded.
“The bruising indicates violent assault. This wasn’t a frat house
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