Justice Served: A Barkley and Parker Thriller by R. Barri Flowers Read Free Book Online Page B

hand to her mouth.
    “We have reason to believe the women they
allegedly battered all stayed here at some point.”
    “And what if they did?” she asked abruptly.
“We’re not responsible for what goes on outside the walls of this
shelter.”
    Was this an admission of knowledge of the
murders? Or a plain disregard for what some vindictive abused women
may have been capable of?
    “You may be responsible,” Nina said unkindly,
“if it’s proven that you or anyone who works here conspired or
participated in any of these so-called vigilante killings.”
    Esther flung a wicked gaze at her. “I can
assure you, de-tective , that no one on my staff would be a
party to murder.”
    Nina batted her eyes skeptically. “I wouldn’t
be too sure about that,” she said boldly. “And I certainly am not
prepared to rule out that one of your guests may be doubling as a
serial killer.”
    Esther felt her chest heave. She had to
steady herself to keep from losing her balance. “Follow me,” she
uttered in a barely audible voice.
    She led them through the downstairs to an
office which Esther had decorated herself with textured wallpaper,
sheer yellow curtains to let the sunshine in, hanging baskets with
ferns, and country furnishings. She hoped to make it appear as open
and comfortable to outsiders, such as these detectives, as the
women who came there seeking protection.
    “Can I offer you some coffee?” Esther felt
her confidence returning. “Tea? Or maybe a Coke?”
    The detectives declined as they sat in
leather chairs opposite Esther’s rustic cedar desk. She joined them
in another chair, resisting the urge to sit at her desk, so as not
to make this visit seem too official.
    After gathering her thoughts, Esther informed
them: “Our purpose here is to do all we can to try and protect
women from abuse at the hands of the men in their lives. You may
not be aware of this, but two million women are battered in the
United States every year. More than one in four women murdered in
this country died at the hands of a husband or boyfriend. Some
believe as many as eighty percent of all domestic violence goes
unreported.” She took a deep breath, pleased with her lecture to
the detectives. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that these women
are the real victims of battering. I only wish you showed as
much diligence in going after their abusers as you seem to in going
after them—”
    Ray and Nina met each other’s eyes
thoughtfully.
    “Let me assure you, Ms. Reynolds, we don’t
take lightly women or children being beaten, or otherwise
mistreated in any way,” stated Ray compellingly. “But we also don’t
condone murder or anyone taking the law into her or his own
hands.”
    Esther pushed her glasses up. “Neither do I,”
she insisted. “Unless it’s justified—”
    “By whose standard?” Nina challenged her,
nearly rising from the chair. “Yours? Or some other woman in here
with an axe to grind against all the accused batterers in
Portland?”
    “By a higher authority than either one
of us,” she responded tartly. “Men who hit women to make themselves
feel big and powerful don’t deserve to live.”
    “Is that what you preach to the women who
come here for shelter and security?” Ray questioned. “That they
should get rid of the men who beat them and suffer the consequences
later?”
    Esther felt hot under the collar, but refused
to be broken. That was what they hoped would happen. She was
stronger than that. More than they knew.
    “This is not a church, detective!” Esther
retorted sarcastically. “I don’t preach anything in here. My job is
merely to offer a safe retreat for women escaping domestic
violence, and advice I believe can help these women to better
themselves and their children afterwards.”
    “Would that advice include getting a damned
wooden bat and beating to death their abusers?” Nina asked with
narrowed eyes.
    Esther stiffened. “I’d be less than honest if
I didn’t say I’ll