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"Don't we all?" Maybe with Wiz here, the two of them could help each other. Erin ignored her sinking stomach. She was Ryan's boss and too old for him. She'd have to keep repeating it, reminding herself. The attraction was one-sided.
"Not like Wiz does. I don't know everything that happened to her, but none of it was good, and she's...well, she's got damage." He ran his hand through his hair. "We'll talk on the drive. Let's go." Ryan slid behind the counter, grabbing his cell.
"Don't you have to work?" Erin followed, warmth blooming in her chest. She was so used to doing everything on her own; having someone who cared was strange. A good strange, but so odd.
Ryan paused with his hand on the door. "I called William. He's asking Craig to work afternoons for the rest of the week."
"I should call him. I'll pay you for your time, of course."
He turned, frowning. "That's not necessary."
"Oh, but it is." Ryan had already done so much, he deserved compensation for his time.
Ryan shook his head. "Don't. William said don't bother calling; he's cool. He also said Craig offered to set up a sniper position for you."
Erin chuckled. She didn't know Craig very well, but that certainly fit his personality.
Ryan laughed too but sobered abruptly. "If things get worse, you should consider it. Craig knows his stuff. Kind of strange when you consider he was a pilot turned space geek, not a Ranger or Recon, but he would have fit right in with the guys doing base defense or even the special forces guys."
"Hopefully it won't come to that." Cust was a lazy, entitled jerk with a huge ego. Even if she'd wounded his pride, hiring bad guys to attack her seemed like too much work, too much risk for way too little payoff. Unless someone was pushing him to act for some other reason. But who would have that kind of power over the richest guy in the valley? Did she wound his mother's ego that much? Or maybe he really was that stupid. Speculation could wait; she had work to do. "Do you have the updated lists?"
"They should be on the printer." He held the door for her and then locked it.
She pulled the paper from the printer while Ryan retrieved his wallet from the apartment. They double-checked the locks and alarms. When they reached her house, they walked around the outside, Ryan first with pistol in hand. Then they entered the house and cleared the interior. Erin emailed the house plans and plat to Wiz, grabbed her nine mil and truck keys, and locked up. They got in the truck and headed north to Missoula. She was thankful she’d applied for a concealed weapons permit shortly after moving home, although she’d never anticipated needing it. She rarely carried a gun, concealed or openly, as Montana law permitted; Marcus was a safe community. Erin called Sam on the way, telling her what happened.
"This isn't good, Erin. I'm going to file an updated request and push the judge to sign the protective order today. He won't want to. Taking on the richest family in town is career suicide, but I'll make it clear the consequences of non-action will also be career suicide."
"Sam, don't blow your career for me. I know how fragile the legal system is in a small town where everyone knows your name."
"Eh, don't worry. I know how to play this game. Bye."
Erin blew out her breath and relaxed into the truck seat. Sam knew what she was doing and how far and hard to push. She shouldn't have to; justice should be blind. But that was Sam's battle to fight; Erin had hers. "Want to tell me what's up with your friend?"
Ryan slumped. "Not really, but I will. A little. It's not my story to tell. Maybe she'll talk to you. Wiz sure needs to talk to someone. She's got some big hang-ups." Ryan scowled at the dash. "I guess I have to tell you something, otherwise it won't make sense." Ryan tapped his fingers on his thigh. "I hate speculating, especially about a friend. I wasn't there, and she won't talk to me about it. What I know is secondhand. But one of our guys sexually assaulted her downrange. And the leadership blew it off and tried to cover it up when she reported."
"You're kidding me!" But Erin knew he wasn't. Too many senior leaders cared more about their careers than their people. Too many jerks only wanted power. They took it, grinding everyone down underneath their slimy boots, too lazy and selfish to do things the right way, the hard way. Taking from their brothers and sisters instead of caring for them. Greedy horrors, every one of them.
"No." He glared, and his hand clenched on his thigh like he was strangling someone. "Wish I was. They tried to blame Wiz because she was wearing workout gear. Official uniform workout clothing." Ryan turned an incredulous look on her. "Can you believe that? You're not allowed to wear civies downrange. What was she supposed to wear? A burkha?"
"No, no, I can't, and yet I can. Blaming the victim happens all the time, and the US military is twenty years behind society on this because men still make up the vast majority of members. Did Wiz eventually get justice?" She peeled her fingers off the steering wheel, one at time. No sense in strangling rubber-covered steel.
"Not really. Some. Because she's tough and brave, she didn't give up, and she had the medical people on her side. In addition to the sexual assault, the rapist beat her badly. The doctor in charge, also a woman, said there may have been more than one man, but since Wiz was drugged and there wasn't much physical evidence, there was no way to prove it. The attempted coverup raised a huge stink, and a bunch of people got relieved of command, and others got reprimands and all that. But it took a long time, and way too much effort, and crappy treatment by almost everyone except the medical folks, and by the time they launched a proper investigation, it was too late. What little evidence existed got 'lost,' so they could prove nothing against the guy Wiz could identify. And her testimony wasn't admissible because of the drugs."
Ryan scowled. "The guy was Security Forces, so you know his buddies were covering for him. Some of his friends actually taunted her, by anonymous email and burner phone. She didn't report the harassment because she knew nothing would happen. Besides, that’s partially what let her figure out who the guy was." Ryan's scowl changed to an evil smile. "But she's a computer wiz, thus the call-sign, and she tracked them down, got a little revenge." He cackled.
"Oh?" While she might have done the same thing, revenge rarely made things better and sometimes created big trouble for the survivor.
"Yeah, like social media campaigns outing the guy as a rapist, with evidence. Not good enough for court but other women, telling their stories. And photos of him cheating on his wife. He got kicked out for dereliction of duty, finally, but rumor has it there was more, like theft and illegal gambling rings. He blames Wiz, of course. Slimeball. He tried a counterattack on social media, but Wiz has a lot of online friends. All his accounts got reported and shut down, time after time. He had a secret bank account that somehow got emptied. A couple of his buddies also got targeted through social media. Several of them got kicked out over the next year. One ended up in Leavenworth for assault." Ryan smirked. "Funny thing, after the rapist's wife finally divorced him, the amount that had been in the secret bank account ended up in her new account. The cops looked at Wiz, but they couldn't pin anything on her. Then, with Wiz’s help, the jerk got caught again, a civilian this time. He’s doing hard time now."
Ryan exhaled, hard. "Unfortunately, while Wiz was watching him and enacting revenge, she wasn't doing her actual job in the Air Force. She got a medical retirement because her chain of command knew what had happened, but they considered Wiz totally unreliable, which, to be fair, she was. She's got some real bad post-traumatic stress. Her reactions are really extreme."
Ryan turned toward her in his seat. "Wiz goes armed everywhere, with guns, knives, and other stuff. She's learned martial arts too, so if you touch her at all, you'll probably end up with something broken, if not dead. Wiz doesn't say much, and she'll probably startle you, more than once, because she's real quiet, like a ghost. She won't show any emotion, at all." He raised his hand and grasper, like he was surrendering. "Make sure no one goes near her. Don't touch her, at all, ever. Even if she falls or trips. Don't startle her. Don't get behind her."
A gusty sigh, with a slow shake of his head. "Normally, Wiz doesn't leave her house. She does everything electronically, gets her groceries delivered, signs for things through a barely opened door, all that. I think Wiz will stay in my apartment, and I'll stay with you, if that's okay, but she might want to stay at your house and for you to stay with me."
"Whatever Wiz needs to feel safe. Anything at all." What a horrible, awful, traumatic experience. So unfair. So wrong. If those so-called leaders were here now, she'd strangle them without remorse. She'd help Wiz any way she possibly could.
"I figured you'd say that. Thanks." Ryan shuddered. "A lot of this I've pieced together from things other people have told me, and some of the stuff her husband, the piece of dirt he is, told me. I've only talked to her in person once since all this happened. We used to be pretty good friends." Ryan smacked his fist on his thigh. "Wiz trusts me because I don't push her. I know a little about how she feels, so I never bug her to do stuff like go to counseling and things like that, even though it would probably be better if she would. I don't think she'll ever let anyone into her life for real ever again."
