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Hands on my shoulders pressed me down on the pillow. “Take it easy.”
Seeing Dexter by the doorway, I asked, “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk to you about what happened,” Colton said.
Dexter’s gaze darted around the room, avoiding mine.
I understood that this was part of Colton’s job, but I wished he’d be more personable. Maybe ask how I was feeling. His demeanor was professional and cold.
“May I have some water?” I gestured toward the nearby table where the cup the nurse gave me sat.
Colton held the straw up to my lips.
I didn’t like feeling like an invalid, but my ribs hurt too much for me to lift my arms at the moment. I sucked, grateful that it was still cold.
“What do you need to know?” If Colton wanted to keep his distance, I’d appease him. For now.
Dexter moved farther into the room. “Can you tell us what time you left your store?”
I thought back, trying to remember if I’d looked at the clock before unlocking the door to leave. “It was nine-oh-five. I was thinking how late it was. I hadn’t even eaten dinner.”
I stopped, realizing I was providing unnecessary details. They weren’t here as friends; they were here for the investigation.
“What route did you take?”
Refocusing, I continued, “I took a left out of my store, and headed straight to the bank. I was thinking of other things. Not really paying attention.”
That was the hardest thing to admit to Colton. That I’d barely thought about my safety.
“When I opened the door to the bank, something—I mean someone—pushed me to the side toward the alley. My head hit the pavement, and the deposit bag was ripped from my hand.” I touched the tender spot on my temple. “I got this cut.”
“Did you fight back?”
I shook my head slowly, wincing when my neck pinged. I must have whiplash from my head striking the pavement. “I didn’t have time. I opened my eyes and saw a man wearing jeans and a dark hoodie. His head was down, so I didn’t get a good look at his face. Then he kicked me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I curled to avoid getting hit again, but I heard footsteps running away. When I opened my eyes, he was gone.”
Dexter and Colton exchanged a look. I wasn’t sure what they were conveying to each other, but they seemed to have this ability to inaudibly communicate with each other.
“I’m sorry, I can’t identify who it was. It all happened so fast.” I’d heard about time slowing in emergency situations, but for me, it seemed like it was a second. There was no time to act.
“I looked around for my cell phone, found it, and then moved to the sidewalk. I was worried he’d come back.”
Colton nodded like it was the right thing to do.
“Then I called Colton.”
Dexter moved closer, taking over the questioning completely, making me go through everything again, slower this time. He asked pointed questions about everything. I felt horrible that I wasn’t able to add any more details.
“If you think of something, let me know.” Then to Colton, he said, “I’ll be in the waiting room.”
“Sorry, I couldn’t remember anything helpful,” I said to Colton as he pulled a chair closer to my bed.
Colton sat and covered my hand with his. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
I looked up at the ceiling, blinking back the tears. “I shouldn’t have been there so late.”
“It could have happened at any time.” Colton’s jaw was tight.
I shifted, unable to find a position where I wasn’t in pain.
