2. Two

two

Phoenix

"Detective," one of the younger officers shouted just as soon as I stepped through the elevator doors with a coffee cup in both hands.

I inwardly groaned and stood straighter, giving her a fake smile as she approached. "Yes, Officer Peach?"

She froze in her tracks and offered me a nasty scowl. "That's not my fucking name, Phoenix."

I grinned at her. I knew it wasn't, but I chose to call her Peach because her long blonde waves and bright blue eyes reminded me of Princess Peach from the Super Mario Brothers. The woman absolutely hated the nickname, but I had to admit it sure tickled the fuck out of me, especially when her face scrunched up into an explosive pit of unattractive wrinkles.

"Forgive me, Officer Brown. What can I do for you?"

"You got a case," she murmured, handing over the details which were scribbled down on a yellow sticky note. "Captain told me to find you."

I glanced over the notes she'd taken and sighed."Thanks, Peach. Tell the boss-man Spike and I are on it."

Officer Brown rolled her eyes and called me an asshole under her breath before she spun on her heel and dashed back to her desk.

I attached the yellow sticky paper to my coffee cup and then passed by the other officer's desks, including my own, until I entered the break room. Spike was there by the coffee machine, sniffling unimpressively at the batch he just poured inside his mug. He had on his best black suit and, like always, his black running shoes. He looked fucking ridiculous, but there had been countless times over the years where we had to chase after suspects on foot, and Spike outright refused to ruin another pair of his fancy shoes while on the job.

"Don't even bother," I told him before the cup ever made it to his mouth. "I got you covered."

"You're a fucking lifesaver," he grumbled as he turned to me, taking the cup from my outstretched hand. "The coffee here tastes like dirt and spoiled ass."

I plucked the sticky note off my cup and handed it over to him.

"What's this?" he asked.

"A case. Captain wants us on it, pronto."

"Fuck." Spike ground his teeth the longer he glared at the details, his sharp jaw set. "I hate these cases."

"I know," I answered, feeling just as dismayed as he looked.

"One of the biker gangs?" he wondered, glancing up at me with a thick brow raised.

I shrugged. "We won't know until we get there. Are you ready?"

"Let me take a leak first. I'll meet you at the car."

Minutes passed before Spike came out the precinct and slid inside the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. I sipped my coffee as I drove and bobbed my head to my Five Finger Death Punch CD, laughing softly as Spike began singing along and tapping his fingers against the dash, feeling the music.

We made it to the hospital, and when we walked in, flashed our badges at the hospital staff and gave them the 411 about why we were there. We were told to wait in the emergency room lobby for the doctor on duty. He came out minutes later and greeted us both with firm handshakes.

"Her name is Delilah Fields," the older man with a bald head and thick glasses said to us. "She was brought in a few hours ago thanks to an anonymous caller claiming they'd found her unconscious in an alley. She was assaulted and severely beaten."

"Rape kit?" Spike asked.

"Already done. It'll take some time, but we should hopefully have the DNA results within a few hours. I put a rush on it. Hopefully we can give this poor girl some answers. She's scared shitless."

"Is she awake?" I asked.

The doctor nodded. "She is. We had to sedate her when they first brought her in. She's a little groggy but she's alert and verbal."

"May we speak with her?"

"Of course. Follow me."

We followed the doctor down a few halls and watched as he paused outside of a door, knocking twice before entering. Spike walked in before me and cursed under his breath. I stepped inside, my guts twisting when I laid eyes on the young girl with two massive purple shiners under her bloodshot eyes, and fingertip bruises peppered everywhere along her neck and collarbone.

"Delilah," the doctor spoke sweetly, trying to calm her as she tried to sit up in bed, her eyes wide in utter terror. "This is Detective Rhodes and his partner, Detective Hutch. They're here to ask you some questions and help in any way they can."

"Hi there, Delilah," I spoke to her first. "Is it okay if we talk to you?"

"I-I guess."

Spike grabbed two chairs and planted them a few inches away from the hospital bed. The doc took his leave and together my partner and I sat down with our pads out and ready.

"Can you tell us what happened to you?" Spike asked.

"I-I didn't want to go." Tears rolled down her bruised face. "My boyfriend made me go!"

"It's okay, Delilah," I assured her. "You're safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you. Tell us what happened. Where did your boyfriend take you?"

"It-it was some club. I don't remember the name, but it was like a sex club or something. We-we had to wear masks."

I sucked in a sharp, silent breath and shared a look with Spike whose brows were raised high, his face swelling red.

The Flirty Sanctum.

I cleared my throat and jotted the details down as she continued explaining.

"My boyfriend ran off and left me alone. I-I was uncomfortable, and I just wanted to leave. I tried to, and then this guy wearing a bull mask attacked me. He shoved me into the bathroom and then he—" She broke, sobbing harder.

"About what time did this happen?"

"I-I don't know. Honestly, I don't. After it happened, the guy just left me there. I had a panic attack and I guess I must have passed out in the alley before I could ever call the cops. Next thing I know, I'm waking up here."

"Is there anything specific you remember about the guy? Hair color, height, build, skin color, anything at all?" asked Spike.

"I-I think he was white. Dark hair… Black, maybe?" She squeezed her eyes closed and shook her head, more tears slipping out of her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I'm just not sure. It-it all happened so fast."

"That's okay, Delilah. We're going to investigate and do everything we can to find the guy that did this to you. But first, we need to speak with your boyfriend. Can you tell us his name?" I asked gently.

"Justin. Justin Wheatley."

"And do you know where we can find Justin?" I asked her.

She sighed as she thought about it, and I could see the longer it took her to form a response that she was either too scared to tell us, or she frankly didn't know.

"He could be at home," she muttered after a moment. "Or at work. He won't answer my phone calls. For all I know, he probably left with some random woman at that club."

She sniffled and wiped hastily under her swollen, battered eyes, hissing from the pain.

"I just don't understand how he could leave me like that. Why didn't he come look for me?"

"Those are very good questions, Delilah, and I promise we'll do everything in our power to get the answers. Where does Justin work?"

"He's a manager at the mini market in town." She paused, chewing her lip. Slowly, her brows raised. "Now that I think about it, he's supposed to be off today. That's why we'd gone out last night..."

Spike cleared his throat then and nudged my shoulder, slightly cocking his head toward the door.

"Excuse us for a moment. Are you thirsty? Can we bring you anything?"

She politely refused and then stared toward the window, blinking through more tears.

I followed Spike out, our movements ceasing when we made it halfway down the hall.

"What are you thinking?" I asked him.

"I think we just got handed one of the most complicated cases we've ever had. And I know there's a lot more she's not telling us. You and I both know you have to be twenty-one to get into the sanctum, which means—"

"They had fakes."

It was either that, or this Justin Wheatley was old enough to get in and had somehow found a loophole to get Delilah in as well. There was a shit storm of questions we still had to ask her, but if we pushed Delilah too hard, she could shut down on us, which would only make both of our jobs harder. We had to handle this carefully.

"What do you want to do? Do you want to continue questioning her?"

"I think it's best we do a little digging. Speak to the boyfriend first and then go to the club. Felix should have security footage."

"There's no guarantee he"ll give us access."

"He will if I beat the shit out of him." Spike sighed at my disapproval and rolled his eyes. "Fine. We'll get a warrant if we have to."

Felix may have been a dick, but I hoped he'd be more lenient once he found out an underage guest was sexually assaulted in his establishment. I couldn't argue that it wasn't worth a shot, but knowing Felix like we did, he wasn't going to cooperate without a warrant.

"What are you doing?" Spike asked when I pulled out my cell phone.

"I'm calling Harley. It's better we give her a heads up just in case."

"Fine," he approved with a nod. "I'll give Delilah my card and let her know we'll be checking in with her again soon. Find the doctor and ask him if he ran a tox screen on her. He didn't mention it, but we still need to find out if she was drugged."