Forgive or Forget

Chapter 25

-Reed-

Detective Riggs allowed me to follow him to Cheryl's car. I stayed the entire time that they processed the scene. They're taking her car for forensic analysis. The sun is starting to go down; it's been a long damn day. Detective Riggs and I were saying our goodbyes when an unknown number came across my phone screen. I answered it immediately. All that I heard was sobbing once I said hello. I knew it was Cheryl.

An older man took the phone, and for half a second, I thought that I might be talking to her abductor. I quickly realized he was helping her and put my phone on speaker so Detective Riggs could hear our conversation. As soon as Detective Riggs understood what was going on, he took a few steps away from me and made a call.

I had just hung up the phone with Cheryl. To say that I am relieved is a fucking understatement. She's safe. Thank god! I don't know how the hell she did it, but she escaped from Todd, a fucking serial killer.

Detective Riggs walks back over to me. "I called Detective Lynch, the detective investigating the murders in Philadelphia that have Mr. Matthews' MO. Here's the address to the gas station and the police station that Detective Lynch is taking your wife to. I gave him your phone number. He's going to call you when he has Cheryl."

I extend my hand. "Thank you so much."

We shake. "Go get your girl. I'll be in touch. We have a lot to discuss."

I nod in agreement. "We sure do."

I practically run to my car and punch the police station address into my GPS, hoping that the detective will have Cheryl secured when I get there. I take off, knowing that once I hit the highway, my ass is speeding to Philadelphia.

I had just hit the expressway when Detective Lynch called to let me know he was at the station to pick up Cheryl. I tell him I'll arrive in no less than forty-five minutes. I hang up, press the gas pedal, and take the familiar roads I've traveled for years to get to my wife and child.

I pull into the parking lot thirty-eight minutes later and rush inside.

I approach the officer at the front desk. "I'm Reed Westerly. I'm here for my wife. Detective Lynch is expecting me."

The officer picks up the phone and relays the message. I hear a door open down the hall. Emotions overtake me when I see my beautiful wife's face. She runs to me and jumps into my arms. I hug her tightly and place my face in the crook of her neck. I can no longer hold back the tears and cry unashamedly in my wife's arms as she cries in mine; her body is shaking. God, I love this woman. I don't even want to imagine what my life would have been like if I had lost her.

After several minutes, we pull back and look into each other's eyes. It's then that I notice a large black and blue bump on Cheryl's forehead, and my joy of having my wife in my arms turns to anger for fucking Todd.

Cheryl immediately notices my change of emotions. "Babe? What's wrong?"

I gently kiss her injury, and she gives me an understanding look.

"Shit, Babe. It kills me knowing that you got hurt because of my poor choice of friends."

Her eyes glisten with her tears. "Stop. It's not your fault in any way," my beautiful wife commands.

I lower my eyes. "If only I would have taken you to the police station, Todd wouldn't have had that opportunity..."

She places her hand on my cheeks and seriously looks me in the eyes. "Todd was determined to take me, Reed. He would have found another way. Please, Babe, believe me when I tell you this is not your fault. Todd only showed you the side of him that he wanted to show. You had no clue of the monster he had hidden away from everyone. The entire blame for this is on Todd and Todd only."

I pull her back into me. "I love you so damn much."

Her lips gently touch mine. "I love you, too."

I forgot we were not alone until the detective cleared his throat.

I move my eyes to him. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but would you be willing to look at a few photos?"

I know what he wants me to look at: the murdered women from Philadelphia. I want to take my wife home, but I understand that this needs to happen to capture Todd and make him pay for his crimes against all of these women.

I look down at Cheryl with concern. "Cheryl, Babe, you wait for me here while I go with Detective Lynch."

She gave me a look that said that I just lost my fucking mind. "Like hell, I will. Where you go, I go."

"I agree with your husband, Mrs. Westerly. You don't want to see these photos." the detective warns her.

I give her a pleading look. She looks between Detective Lynch and me, knowing she's determined to go with us.

"I want to see what that bastard is capable of, what I was able to escape from," she fervently proclaims.

I let out a long breath, knowing that once my woman has her mind set on something, there's no way she'll back down.

I release her and take her hand. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Cheryl gives me an award-winning smile, and Detective Lynch and I shake heads.

Detective Lynch takes us back down the hall and into the room that I had seen Cheryl coming from just moments ago.

The detective directs us, "Please, have a seat. I'll be right back."

Cheryl and I hold hands in comfortable silence, preparing ourselves for what we'll see.

Lynch returns with a folder. "Mrs. Westerly, I will ask you one last time; please wait outside while your husband identifies these women."

Cheryl shakes her head adamantly. "Not going to happen."

He sighs and sits across from us. He pulls five photos out of the folder and pushes them towards us one at a time. I hear Cheryl gasp. I tighten my grip on her hand and see her look away from the photos.

"Mr. Westerly, do you recognize any of these women?" he questions me.

I nod my head yes. "Every single one of them."

Cheryl lifts her head and looks at me as the detective asks his next question. All that I see is love in her eyes. "How do you know these women?"

I breathe heavily before answering him, with my wife looking at me lovingly. I feel like an asshole. "I've had one-night stands with each of these women."

I'm embarrassed to admit that in front of my wife. She knows about my past, but seeing these women is difficult.

The detective furls his eyebrows. "You..." he gives Cheryl an apologetic look before continuing, "um... slept with these women, not Mr. Matthews?"

I sigh, "As far as I know, he didn't It looks as if every one of his victims were women I met. None of them were the ones that he picked up."

Cheryl speaks up and quickly gets our attention. "Reed, that bastard was setting you up. He outright told me that he would have his way with your women, never anyone he picked up. If caught, he planned to point the police in your direction."

I know what she says is true, but it hurts like hell. The only place that I ever want to see that fucker is six feet under the ground!

*****