The New Girl - a Man's Perspective

Chapter 20: The Art of Discipline

We woke up the next day to loud knocking on the door. It startled us and I ran down the steps throwing on my robe.

"Hello?" I said, throwing open the door.

"Good morning sir. I'm detective Abnur, and this is detective Sweeney. Is Amy Beaufort available? We have some questions and would like to get a statement from her," the detective asked.

"Uh, yeah, she's still in bed. Let me go get her. Come on in and have a seat. I'll be right back," I said.

I walked back upstairs and shut the door behind me. I stood there for a second and ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm down from the sudden surprise. Amy was sitting up in bed covering herself with the blankets looking a bit scared.

"Jeff? What's going on? Who was that," she asked.

"It's two detectives. They would like to speak with you, probably me too. They need your account of what happened," I said.

"This early? They couldn't have waited a couple more hours? My god," she said.

"I know babe. I agree. Or at least given us a call yesterday to set a time to come by," I added.

We got dressed and I helped her downstairs. As she and the detectives were talking in the living room I made coffee for the four of us. As the coffee was brewing I opened my eyes wide and blinked then rubbed them inhaling deeply. My phone dinged in my pocket and I looked to see who it was.

Dad: "Jeff, call me asap," is all the text said.

'Not the time, dad,' I thought.

Me: "Will do. Might be a while. Call you later," I responded.

Dad: "Thanks," he said.

I carried all four coffee cups to the living room and asked the detectives if they would like cream or sugar. Neither did. Amy had given them all the information she could remember, even adding she had an ex boyfriend in Philadelphia that tried to rape her when she was 22, he was charged with attempted rape, but she hadn't seen him since. She said she thought the voice sounded familiar but couldn't put her finger on exactly who it could have been. She said his name was Vincent Bernardi.

At that moment my ears perked up and I listened intently.

'Vincent Bernardi, Philadelphia. Italian, possibly clean shaven, scar on his left cheek, teeth missing. Tattoo of a goat on his left forearm and a four leaf clover on the right side of his neck,' I thought, taking mental notes.

"Jeff, we would like to ask you a few questions now," Detective Abnur said.

"Sure," I said, sighing and looking at him.

"Where were you when Amy was attacked," he asked.

I gave them my statement and they stood up, thanked us for our time and coffee and left. After I shut the door I looked at Amy.

"Who is Vincent Bernardi," I demanded.

"An ex boyfriend from 14 years ago. Nobody important, babe," she said.

I stared at her, not happy with her answer. I didn't want to pry but I needed details. The police didn't have a suspect yet and I wasn't about to jump the gun and go after him. Although he did attempt to rape her. It very well could have been the same guy.

"He tried to rape you then," I asked, confirming that's what I heard her tell the detectives.

"Yes, and he was arrested and sent to prison. Last I knew his sentence was 10 years, and while he was there mom & I left Scranton," she said.

"Ok. And he had no idea you moved here," I asked.

"Not that I know of. He lived in Philly. I only went there for parties. It was over 100 miles away and had no way to get to Scranton," she said.

I exhaled with pursed lips and nodded then kissed her forehead and asked if she wanted a coffee refill.

"Yes please," she said timidly.

"I'll get your medications. It's time to take them," I said, setting her coffee down and walking upstairs.

I gazed blankly into the bathroom mirror after grabbing her meds, formulating a plan of how to find out who did this to the love of my life. My phone dinged again.

Dad: "Can you talk?"

Me: "Yeah, give me a few minutes. I'll call you."

I walked downstairs and Amy was staring out the window looking worried.

"Here you go. I have to call dad. Be right back," I said, kissing her again.

She said nothing, only slightly smiled and nodded at me. Then I stepped outside and called dad wondering what the problem was.

"Yellow," he answered.

"Dad, what's up," I asked.

"How's my future daughter-in-law? I've been worried sick since you called the night it happened, so has Donna," he said.

"She's fine. You two can come over but let me know first because she might be sleeping. The meds knock her out," I said.

"Ok, I'll see what Donna wants to do and let you know. Thanks, bud," he said, "talk to ya later."

"Bye, dad," I said, then hung up the phone and stepped back inside.

Amy had laid down on the couch and fell asleep. Even bruised and broken, she was still stunning. She was my angel and I'd be damned if I let anything happen to her ever again. I covered her up with a blanket and sat at my computer to start my search for the poor soul about to suffer my newly found wrath. 'God help them,' I thought as I opened my browser.