“I apologize. After I spoke with another witness, my flight got delayed,” Bryson said, glad his voice came out clearly. No traces of weakness to be heard.
“Misty, we’re going to jump right into this because it could take a while,” Camden warned her.
“That’s fine,” she replied. She was obviously nervous, but she still sported a determined set to her shoulders.
Bryson felt a deep urge to jump up, to tell Misty she didn’t have to go through this — that they had enough witnesses, and they’d just keep her in protective custody until the trial ended. She’d been so afraid, so on edge, and although she was standing strong now, he suddenly didn’t want to hear this, not after what Cam had said, not after knowing something about how bad her life had been.
He had to protect her. Everything inside him screamed to do just that. But before he was able to make a fool of himself and say any of this, Camden asked the first question, and as he waited for her reply, he was grateful he’d kept silent.
“Can you tell us when and how you met Mr. Jesse Marcus?” Camden asked.
Misty took a deep breath. “I was working for a mini-mart gas and food store when he arrived at about three in the morning and came to the counter for cigarettes. I looked up and there he was in his uniform, and he began flirting with me. He seemed so charming, and I was taken in immediately.” She spoke with embarrassment, but she continued. “The next night he came back and asked me on a date. I said yes.” Though her voice started out quiet, as if she was ashamed of her stupidity, as she continued, her shoulders firmed, and a determined glint shone in her eyes. This might be therapeutic for her, might help her to realize she had nothing to fear now.
At least that’s what Bryson hoped.
“Was he still in uniform when he asked you on a date?”
“Yes. He was on shift. I got off at four in the morning then, and the third night he came back, meeting me at the end of my shift. I didn’t own a car then, but I lived a little less than a mile away, so I walked — I know, I know — but he offered me a ride home. I was so impressed that this officer wanted to take me home, keep me safe, so I took the ride. I thought, what could be safer than getting a ride home with a cop?” She shuddered. “So he took me home. He had a flower in the car for me. I was even more impressed. Jesse is a big guy, and at first, he seemed incredibly good-looking, leaving me to wonder what he saw in me.”
“So, Jesse dropped you off and then left?” Camden prodded her.
Misty sighed as she squirmed in her seat. “No. When we arrived at the apartment, he parked in the back of the building, where no one came in or out. I thought it a bit unusual, but then I realized he probably wasn’t supposed to give civilians rides, so I wasn’t concerned, assuming that he was protecting his job.” She stopped speaking, and it was obvious she was reluctant to continue.
“Please go on,” Camden prompted gently.
“I thanked him for the ride, and I reached for the car handle to get out. He grabbed me. He said there was no rush. I should have been afraid, but I was with a cop,” she said, her eyes a bit wide. “So we sat there and talked for a couple of hours. I heard traffic begin to pick up as the morning commuters left for work, and then he grabbed my arm and pulled me against him and kissed me. I was so awed that this successful, handsome policeman wanted me enough to kiss me, I didn’t think about the fact that he wasn’t giving me a choice — that he’d just grabbed me and taken the kiss almost forcefully. Then, he got a little…‘handsy.’ His fingers tugged on my shirt as I squirmed to get away. At this point, I wasn’t comfortable anymore and didn’t want him touching me, but I wasn’t sure how to pull away. It all just happened so fast. When I was starting to get frightened, his radio went off and he had to leave. That was the end of our first date, I guess you’d call it.”
“What do you mean by handsy? Did he try to force himself upon you? You said he was grabbing at your shirt, but did he push it further? Please don’t hold anything back out of embarrassment,” Camden told her.
“No. He didn’t force me down or anything; he was just very…aggressive — I guess that would be the word to use. We were kissing, and his hands…wandered beneath my shirt, over my…uh…breasts.” Misty’s cheeks turned scarlet, and she shifted, lifted her water glass, and took a long sip before going on. “I was in no way ready to have sex in a car with a virtual stranger, but I now know that if the radio hadn’t buzzed, he would have pushed it to that point. He was reaching into my pants. I thought at the time that he was just worked up, that he would have stopped…”
“This isn’t your fault, Misty,” Camden assured her. “You are the victim.”
“Thank you.”
“When did you next see Jesse Marcus?” Camden asked immediately. It was better to press forward.
“The next night, I was off work. There was a knock on my door, which always alarmed me because I didn’t live in the best part of town. When I looked through the peephole, I saw that it was Jesse in his uniform. I was a little surprised that he knew which unit was mine, because he hadn’t walked me to my door, and it’s a large complex. Then I remembered he was a cop and it wouldn’t be difficult for him to find my place. I opened the door and he came inside. As he looked down at me, that was when I felt the first stirrings of fear. What was he doing there? But I was still feeling a mixture of fear and excitement.” She fidgeted in her seat.
“So, was he still working if he was wearing his uniform?” Camden asked.
“Yes. He said he wasn’t off the clock for a few more hours and he’d like to take me to breakfast when he was off.”
“Did he leave after that?” Camden knew the answers, but it needed it all to be on record.
“No. He sat down at the table and told me to come over to him. I was scared but still excited. He was a cop, one of the good guys, and he was giving me attention,” she said with disgust. “I walked over to him and he pulled me down onto his lap. His belt pressed against me, but before I could think about being uncomfortable, or think about how strange the situation was, he was kissing me again. Jesse was a very forceful kisser. He didn’t even give me time to breathe. His hands were once again wandering all over and I could barely get enough oxygen, but I was overwhelmed. I thought he was so aggressive because he was excited about me,” she practically whispered.