Read Online Violated by Jamie Fessenden - Free Book Online Page B

she wanted to try on the roses this year. And only occasionally did she drop in a detail about the day her husband’s younger brother raped her.
    “You told us he—Owen—was drunk,” Officer Chavez said. She was the third person at the table, his partner, and she had a lot more experience working rape cases than he did.
    Mrs. Sutton was a sweetheart. But ever since Russ had learned about what… the motherfucker whose name he could no longer even think without going into a rage… had done to his sister, he’d been driven by a desire to do something . Anything! But he had no idea what he could do to help Shannon. She didn’t even seem to want his help. At this point she probably didn’t need it.
    “Yes,” Mrs. Sutton replied.
    “Was he drunk when he arrived at your house?”
    “Oh no.” She shook her head. “He’d already been staying with us for three or four days, I think.”
    “You don’t remember, exactly?”
    The elderly woman frowned, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. This had been the problem since the interview began. Her memory of events was vague and disjointed, further complicated by the fact that the rape had occurred five years ago. She hadn’t dared report it until after Mr. Sutton passed away.
    “I suppose,” Mrs. Sutton said thoughtfully, “it was four. He showed up on Christmas Eve and stayed until Sunday. Christmas was on a Thursday that year, wasn’t it?”
    “In 2009?” Chavez asked. She glanced at her notes. “No, that would have been a Friday.”
    “Oh. Then I suppose he was only there three days. He definitely didn’t arrive until Christmas Eve. So that would have been Thursday night. And he left Sunday afternoon.”
    Russ found all the waffling on details frustrating, but Officer Chavez seemed to have endless patience. She calmly made a note on her pad.
    “So the incident occurred on the day after Christmas? On Saturday afternoon?”
    Mrs. Sutton thought about that for a moment. “Yes, I suppose that’s right.”
    “At about two o’clock?”
    Mrs. Sutton said uncertainly, “I… It must have been about that time. I was doing dishes after lunch, and we’d eaten just after noon. I remember George calling me into the bedroom….”
    Chavez’s eyes flicked to Russ’s for just a second, though her expression remained neutral. George wasn’t the name of Mrs. Sutton’s brother-in-law. It was the name of her deceased husband. Until now Russ had thought the husband was out somewhere when the rape occurred. “George called you in?” Chavez asked. “Your husband?”
    “Yes.”
    “What did he want?”
    Mrs. Sutton looked mortified. “Well… what does any husband want with his wife in the bedroom?”
    “You said earlier that Owen was in the bedroom,” Chavez reminded her gently.
    “Well, yes. He was.”
    “With George?”
    “Yes.”
    “Had they both been drinking?”
    “They were still drinking. There was a bottle of rum….”
    “Did George want to have sex with you? In front of his brother?”
    The woman frowned and looked down at the table in front of her. She opened her mouth to respond but put a hand to her lips, as if to prevent herself from speaking. Instead, she nodded.
    “Did that happen?”
    “I told him no. I told him it was… disgusting….” She paused to take another sip of her coffee, her hand trembling as she raised the cup to her mouth.
    Russ felt ill. This woman reminded him of a teacher he’d once had in elementary school—prim and proper, a woman who’d somehow herded a class of unruly eight-year-olds without ever raising her voice. He struggled to force the image of taciturn Miss McConnell being confronted by naked men looking for a threesome out of his head. Chavez simply took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mrs. Sutton, you’ve been telling us that Owen forced himself upon you.”
    “That’s right. He did.”
    “Did your husband also force himself on you?”
    “Well… I suppose,” Mrs. Sutton admitted, her