Dangerous After Dark

By Erin Thornton

Dangerous After Dark is a story of loss. Everything Grace has grown to know and love has been taken away from her. She has to leave school because the memory of her attack is too fresh.

Five years later she learns that she isn't as safe as she had worked so hard to achieve, when a handsome detective tells her that she is one of three g

• Language: English
• Publisher: Erin Thornton
• Release date: Sep 17, 2018
• ISBN: 9781949664065

Book preview

Prologue:

The party was winding down, and it was well after one in the morning. Grace knew, with finals the next day, she shouldn't have stayed out so late. She should have left hours ago, but her friend Trish insisted she stay since this was Trish's last year and they were celebrating. Now she didn't know where Trish ran off to, but she needed to get some sleep. It was cold, dark and late. She knew shouldn't walk home alone, but she didn't have any of her friends to walk with her. The apartment was only a couple blocks away. If she hurried, she could be in bed in ten minutes.

Grace broke her one unbreakable rule and walked home alone. She made it in a few minutes and got her key card out to unlock the door. She was the first one home. The door opened, and as she crossed the threshold, someone struck her from behind. The force was unexpected, and she tripped on the doorstep stumbled to the floor and scraped her knees. Startled, she quickly rolled over to see a dark figure looming over her. Grace panicked and started crawling back to get away from this stranger.

The door slammed, and seconds later the attacker kicked her over and yanked her to her feet by her shoulder-length hair. She screamed from the pain.

Be quiet, the deep baritone voice of the attacker whispered in her ear.

Terrified chills ran up her spine. Who was this man and why did he choose her? Grace sobbed and said, What do you want?

He laughed, You!

Grace was trembling as he dragged her out of the entry and onto the living room carpet. He threw her to the ground and started to unfasten her pants. Grace was so scared she didn't know what to do. Fear kept her frozen, so all she could do was lay there and cry.

THE ATTACKER KNEW HE was in complete control because he had done this before. He knew no one would ever catch him so, as always, he took his time. He wore gloves to prevent fingerprints and a stocking cap to cover and hide his hair. With the shadows and darkness, she wouldn't be able to identify him. Although, that didn't matter because he never left anyone alive to tell any tales.

Just as the attacker finished, he flushed the condom to destroy any evidence that he was the one who had been here. Just as he was getting ready to finish off Grace, the last piece of proof - her ability to testify against an unknown attacker - he heard someone at the door. Well, that was a kink in his plan, so he quickly ran out the back door. Since it was also an auto lock door, no one would know he was here.

GRACE WAS SO PANIC-stricken, she blacked out from fear when he penetrated her. She came to, and Trish was standing over her.

Did you have so much fun tonight that you couldn't make it to your room? Trish asked.

Grace burst into tears. She was lying on her back, and she wasn't sure what had happened.

Trish grabbed her and hugged her tight. Shhh, it's ok, I was joking.

Grace cried until she had no more tears. When she started to hiccup, Trish spoke, What's wrong?

Grace stammered, I... um... uh... he... inside... kicked... pants... It was only then that Grace realized that though her clothes were rumpled, she had been put back together. Did she dream the entire attack? Was she so worked up from walking home alone that she could have dreamed it? Grace lifted her shirt, and a red bruise was starting to form from where she, Grace hesitated while thinking this over. She fell over the threshold when she stumbled? NO, someone kicked her! Grace slowly put the pieces together. Attacked in her home, beaten and raped, Grace remembered. She started to explain to Trish.

Trish was confused, Grace, what do you mean someone attacked you? When? I saw you leave the party and grabbed my coat, said goodbye to a couple of friends and followed you. I couldn't have been more than fifteen to thirty minutes behind you.

The more Grace thought, the more she was sure of what happened. She couldn't see his face or make out more than a shadow, but she would NEVER forget his voice! 

After about an hour, Grace finally convinced Trish that someone was there. Trish started to look around. Trish came back and said nothing seemed out of place. Since the doors locked by key card to prevent unauthorized entry, they couldn't even tell if the doors anyone had opened them recently. Sometimes Grace missed simple technology like locks and keys.

Still, they called the police. Surely, law enforcement had tools to see things Grace and Trish might have missed. When the police arrived, they asked all the important questions and looked around, but Grace thought the officer seemed to be just going through the motions. Grace couldn't give them much to go on, and nothing appeared to point to the attack. They didn't even ask her to go to the hospital.

The police left only about thirty minutes after they arrived. Trish was very frustrated. Argh! Small town police are a bunch of Barney Fifes! They think nothing could go wrong in ‘Mayberry' besides someone running a red light!

Grace gave a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Trish was wound up now, Well, I know what we need to do now. Let's get you to the hospital right now. Even though the Barneys didn't send you there doesn't mean there is nothing to find.

Twenty minutes later they arrived at the hospital. The wait was fifteen minutes; after they finished processing everything and Grace was discharged, it was six thirty in the morning. The hospital was going to send findings to the local police department. Grace wasn't holding her breath.

Grace got home, and the only thing she wanted was a shower. She took off her clothes provided by the hospital since hers were now evidence. That was ok, the only plans she had for them was a lit match. She turned on the shower as hot as she could. Her goal was to burn his touch right off her skin. She scrubbed and scrubbed until she was raw, but still didn't feel quite clean. Then she washed twice more for good measure. When she got out of the shower, her skin was tingling instead of crawling, so it was an improvement.

Grace still had her last final today, but it wasn't until nine AM. So, she tried to take a little nap. She lay down and closed her eyes, but instead of darkness behind her eyes, she saw the shadowy form that hovered above her. So instead she lay in bed willing herself to sleep, but no rest came.

Thirty minutes later she got up and attempted food instead. Since she had the time, she made toast and eggs. Grace took a bite of her eggs, and her unsettled stomach threw it up immediately. So, she scraped her plate into the trash.

Grace was feeling lost and distracted, but she needed to get moving. She had ten minutes to get to class. If Grace were one minute late, the professor would lock her out and she would miss her final. She threw on some comfy yoga pants and a t-shirt, then was off to class. Trudging across campus, Grace let her mind wander. Unfortunately, this didn't improve when she got to class. She had two hours to finish her final.

History was her favorite class. She was always actively engaged in her professor's lectures and genuinely eager for more information. When she was a child, her father was always rattling on about this or that historical event. He always knew something that pertained to what was happening in her current situation or current events.

Today, after everything that had happened, Grace was useless. How was she supposed to remember specific names, dates or write an essay about How the American Civil War shaped the US? Grace was numb to everything happening around her. As the two hours came to an end, her paper was blank except for her name, well her first name at least.

Grace left class and went back to her apartment.

Trish was in the kitchen. The police called back. They said the hospital sent over the results. They will let us know any new developments, she said with an eye-roll.

I doubt after the way they acted here they will actively do anything, Grace said with frustration. With that, she went to her room. This was Trish's place. They'd known each other since high school, and she had offered a place to stay last year when Grace decided to transfer to the same school. Since everything she owned was in this room, she had a realization. Now this place that was home is tainted with fear and horrible images. And with that, the decision was made. She packed everything and waved goodbye Atlake University for good.

Chapter 1: Grace

Five years later:

Another blind date, the third one this month. Why do my friends feel the need to fix me up? Grace thought. Bruce ranks right up there with Bill Nye, the Science Guy. He thinks everyone knows what he's talking about and that everyone is a scientist.

He's cute, though, she thought. He just seemed so involved in his job and the project he's working on to be bothered to ask anything about; Grace, for instance. She guessed her friends were more about superficial things, rather than who might genuinely be right for her. She needed to tell Adrian to stop picking potential dates from her job. Adrian was a tall, beautiful blonde with legs for days; a guy would do anything for her if she asked. Ironically, she was also a scientist working for the top research lab in the country. Bruce might be perfect for her, but Grace just wasn't that smart. Five feet six on a good day in heels, with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. Just average and nothing special. Honestly, guys intimidated her, but she tried for her friends. And mostly for herself to feel a semblance of normal.

She was trying to listen to Bruce but had gotten lost thirty minutes ago.  She wasn't sure, but she thought he might be half fish. She hadn't seen him pause to take a breath. She thought he might have gills she couldn't see. She needed another glass of wine if she was going to continue faking her way through this date. Maybe, if she got the waiter's attention, Bruce would pause long enough for her to feign a headache or something. Lord only knows, after him carrying on she could feel one coming on. Oh good, here comes the waiter.

Can I help you ma'am? the waiter politely asked.

Yes, can I get a glass of water? Grace asked.

Of course, the waiter replied and, hurried away.

Oh, I'm sorry. I've been monopolizing the conversation, Bruce realized.

She smiled slightly and chuckled softly, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. Oh, it happens. I had a long day at work today. I'm more tired than I realized. I think I should call it a night.

Of course. I had a long day too. Let me just get the check, and we can get out of here. Bruce waved for the check and quickly paid. They gathered their things and made their way out of the restaurant.

Standing on the curb waiting for a cab Bruce started, I had a great time tonight, Grace. I'd love to do it again sometime. 

Of course, he did he got to talk about his favorite person and topics, she thought with little remorse. Oh yeah, this dinner was...memorable., she said, to put it mildly. Bruce smiled, and she glanced away and cringed. I'll have to see what my schedule looks like; I know this week at work was the tip of the iceberg for what is expected to come. She hoped that sounded the way she intended. She'd never been good at the letdown. She gave Bruce a stiff hug and got in her waiting cab.

Home from another date from Hell. She'd just stop agreeing to them, but she was afraid she'd end up alone forever, and that scared her more. She didn't go to bars and pick up men, she didn't want to online date either. Those were both equally scary and unpredictable. So, Grace agreed to be fixed up again and again. Not to mention it got her out of the house. She hated being alone at night even more.

Within the darkness and shadows, she saw figures moving. She never opened windows for ventilation because she heard every noise inside and out. Her imagination didn't need any new material to for encouragement. So, she didn't stay out late, ever. She'd be inside before dark whenever she could, and that was more often than not. To top it all off, she required sleeping pills every night to get any sleep at all. Her life had never been the same ever since that night five years ago.

SHE WOKE UP THE NEXT morning, and it was Friday. Time to start another day at work. The summer season was fast approaching, and that meant the schedule picked up in the construction industry. Days were longer, and it stayed warm, so it made for extended work days. The project counts increased in volume and size. Grace was the office manager, and she kept everything organized.

Ted Blunt, was the owner as well as her boss, and a great guy. He'd owned TB Construction for twenty years. He started young and was now forty and very well-seasoned in the industry. TB Construction was the go-to company for all local new builds. Keeping this business in line took a lot of her time.

Ted was in great shape for his age, which allowed him to still work with the crew daily. His brown hair was far from graying, and his smiling brown eyes lent him a younger feel. With his broad shoulders and six feet two inches he really could fill a room. She preferred him outside working and leaving her to her job.

Today, however, he was hanging around. Grace didn't understand why. He was acting odd too. Come to think of it; he looked nervous.

Ted, can I help you with something? she finally asked, an hour into the day.

Ted looked up from his desk where he stood rifling through papers, jumping slightly at the sound of her voice. She must have startled him. Oh umm...yes. Have you heard me talk about the Hamilton Project? he asked.

Yes, she replied coolly. She knew it was the biggest project they'd ever had in the five years she'd worked there. She knew how important it was, although she was suppressing a knowing smile.

I think we are behind on getting the preliminary specs and bids done. Not to mention pulling permits from the city. I'm not sure if I’ve decided on all the contractors, he said, sounding flustered, all the while rummaging through his filing cabinet.

He wouldn't find any of what he was looking for, but he did not need to panic. Grace had spent all week tying up loose ends for the quote based on the contractor bids from their best guys they used. She had all the contractors on standby for final word from Ted giving the green light on what she knew was the best pricing from valued and proven teams for the entire project. Specs were due back today from the architect, after having been signed off by the customers earlier in the week. Permits came in yesterday, so he did not need to worry.

The Hamilton Project was already well in hand and by no means behind schedule. She got up from her desk and grabbed the file out of her active file rack. When she walked into his office, she had a huge smile that Grace couldn't contain on her face as she handed him the file. You mean this one? she asked, already anticipating his response.

Ted took a seat, obviously relieved to have the missing file in hand, but not yet having opened it to reveal anything. He sat, down presumably to get started on the backlog of work. She quietly walked back to her desk to await his discovery.

Grace, what is this? The cover checklist says we are just waiting for a few things to get started? How can this be? I didn't do any of this, Ted asked, very puzzled.

I did it, and the final say on the contractors and our bid is just waiting for your approval and green light. I've been here long enough to know who we use for everything. I know your base price sheet on top of the contractor costs. I just did the math and saved you the trouble. I know the busy season is fast approaching and you and the crews are already putting in more hours as the daylight hours begin to stretch on. There is no sense in you missing more time with your family at night working on these if I'm here and capable of helping by doing them for you. Then all you have to do is sign off on the final numbers.

Ted smiled Grace you were a real find five years ago, and even more enjoyable today than when you started. You are smart and great at taking on new things and challenging yourself. What would I do without you? Why don't you come to dinner at the house on Sunday, say six o'clock? Abigail would be happy to have you over. You know she loves you, and you haven't been over in a while.

Abigail was Ted's wife. She was closer to Grace's age than Ted's, but still only a few years younger than him. She had always been sweet to Grace and, always wondering why she didn't have a boyfriend. But who didn't wonder that these days? Abigail was a bit taller than Grace with her blonde hair cut into a cute pixie. Grace could never pull that off in a million years, but it fit Abigail's personality to a tee. She seemed to flit around a room, in and out of stories with different groups and could follow multiple conversations at a party with ease. She had a put others first personality too.

Only if you let me bring something with me to dinner, she said.

Of course, yourself! Ted replied with a big smile, thinking he was pretty funny.

That's not what I meant, she said, trying to scowl even though she was suppressing a giggle instead.

Oh, alright, if you must, bring your favorite bottle of wine, and we will call it good, Ted said, laughing. He had a great laugh. But because work was stressful, even in the slow season, he was so busy. He didn't share it often enough, when he did grant a laugh, it was very genuine.

Chapter 2: Patrick

Sitting at his desk , writing the final report from his last case, Patrick reflected on how it had gone.

Patrick got the alert of multiple houses in one neighborhood were being broken into, but the situation was very odd. Each house had one room vandalized. The perpetrator had stolen from other rooms, but only small things that could have fit in someone's pocket or carried with one hand.

It was as if the suspect had a beef with each of the victims. Before entering each house, he trampled through the front landscaping like a pig in heat. So far there had been four crime scenes, but it was happening every other night, too frequent for anyone's liking.

With the help of forensics, they used the boot prints in the mud to determine that they were dealing with a man approximately five feet ten and two hundred pounds. That should make him easier to spot when confronted, in the right situation.

Patrick and Brian decided that the best course of action was to plan a stakeout for the following night. Patrick hated stakeouts, they were rites of passage for rookies, but this one needed a professional eye. This suspect was acting erratically, and it didn't make sense to anyone. Hopefully, they would get some answers after a long night spent in his truck. Brian's car was too conspicuous and didn't have enough legroom. If they were going to do this, he wanted to be comfortable.

Sitting in the car, enjoying ridiculous conversation about Brian's latest conquests, they waited for anything that caught their eye. Coffee was flowing, and junk food was en masse. He was going to have to run an extra few miles tomorrow. Junk was not the food he should be eating at all. Just as Brian was starting in about a girl with a tight dress and curves for days who approached him last night with a girlfriend, ready and willing, something caught Patrick's attention two houses up.

Do you see that guy? Patrick asked Brian, essentially cutting him off.

What's he doing? Brian asked as they watched the man stagger through the yard. He looked drunk and lost. The intruder started rattling windows and then the door. When he realized nothing was going to open, he picked up a landscaping rock and smashed the nearest window.

At that point, Patrick and Brian scrambled out of the car to apprehend him and avoid any further unnecessary damages. He was obviously their guy; if not, there were two whackos out there, and no one needed that.

Brian moved to the driveway side of the house and Patrick came around from the other side. Their goal was to block him in and limit the places he could go. Brian was seen first; the suspect charged him and tackled him to the ground. Patrick came in unseen and attacked, but was quickly lifted up and flipped over the suspect's head. Landing on his back, Patrick had the wind was knocked. He thought, Man that hurt, and it took him a minute to regain the ability to stand.

As quickly as he could, he popped up. He and Brian decided they were done playing around. They were going to put an end to this. They worked together to pin him in, and they finally got ahold of him, but he fought them all the way. As a last resort, because they were struggling to keep him under control, they cracked his head against the brick facing between the house's