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His lips thinned. “Possibly. I’m afraid we’re at the mercy of the laws and the judges.”
“The laws suck.” Because they allowed scum to keep victimizing.
“So?”
“So, what?” I snapped.
“May I visit you to show you those pictures?”
“Yeah. I guess.” Maybe I’d get lucky, and they’d actually find the fuckers. But I wouldn’t hold my breath, or I’d most likely die. “If I’m not at the house, you’ll probably find me in the garage, working on a wreck.”
“You rebuild cars?”
“I do now.” I’d worked night and day on my first—a restored Trans Am with the famous Firebird on the hood—and sold it faster than expected. The Plymouth would be my third.
“Odd profession for a woman.”
Aha, he finally showed his true colors. I pounced. “Kind of a sexist thing to say in this day and age.”
“I agree, but in my defense, I’ve never met a woman mechanic.”
“We’re the same as guys, only without dicks.”
His lips quirked. “I’d say there’s more to you than that.”
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many surprises.”
“Speaking of surprises, have you thought of adding security to avoid unexpected visitors?”
“No. Didn’t think I had to.” But the attack had made it clear I’d have to dosomething.
“I can refer you to someone if you need a hand with that.”
“Not going to volunteer yourself?” Yup, I definitely flirted that time. And got shot down as he stood.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Collins. I’ll be in touch.”
I knew what I’d like him to touch once the rest of me stopped hurting.
CHAPTER4
The detective left,and a nurse came in right after to take my vitals. Two hours later, after the nurse had promised the doctor would be right in, he finally arrived.
“Ms. Collins. You’re a very lucky lady!” he announced. Apparently, despite my aches and many contusions, I would recover. Nothing was broken. I didn’t appear to have internal injuries. Even my eye should be fine, I just needed to give it a few days for the swelling to go down.
With all that good news—excuse the fucking sarcasm—I was told I could go. The revolving door of Canadian healthcare at its best. They’d probably already stripped my bed and prepped it for the next wham-bam-thank-you client in the medical system.
I could only hope they’d not missed anything vital as I limped my ass out of there, getting all kinds of looks as I only had my cruddy and bloody jeans and sweatshirt to wear. My clothes were less of a problem than my lack of wallet and cash. No charging cord meant my phone remained dead, and I had no means of getting home. Standing in the lobby of the hospital, I wanted to cry.
This was what I got for moving away from the city I’d grown up in. No friends I could call because I’d not exactly been Mrs. Social since arriving in Ottawa. No family. Just me and my two feet, one of which dragged from the bruising on my hip.
I sat in a hard plastic chair as I tried to figure out what to do.
Which was how Detective Walker found me. “Need a ride?”
The detective offered me a much-needed lift. But could I be courteous and grateful? Nope. Suspicion reared its head. “Why are you still here?”
“Dealing with another case.”
