Protector - Laurel Dewey [102]
“Well, you’re not going to get it. Let’s go outside.”
They walked outside and sat down on a bench. Jane lit a cigarette as Weyler pulled a small pager from his jacket pocket.
“This will be your only connection to me,” Weyler said, handing the pager to Jane. “It’s one of those voice pagers. I am the only one who has the number. If I page you, call me back on a secure land line—preferably a pay phone.”
Jane nodded, slipping the pager into her shirt pocket. “So, where I am going?”
“Peachville, Colorado.”
“You’re joking!” was all Jane could muster.
“Do I look like I’m joking? It’s a small town. The population is under three thousand—”
“Only if you count the dogs, cats and horses!” Jane turned away trying to digest the news. “Peachville? The town that celebrates fruit?”
“Better figure out a way to like it because it’s going to be your home for a bit.”
“Exactly how long is ‘a bit?’ ”
“Don’t know. We’re still going to be working the case on this end. On your end, you’ll have the child who will hopefully continue to recall what happened that night. Between the two of us, maybe we can wrap up this whole thing in a month or two.”
“A month or two?”
“Or three. I’m not putting a definite time on your stay.” Jane thought for a second. “What did you tell Chris about my absence?”
“I haven’t seen him. He’s so maxed on overtime that he’s got to take several days off. By the time I tell him and the rest of DH of the situation, you’ll be long gone.”
“Well, good luck with Chris. He won’t go down easy. Did you give a heads-up to Peachville’s police about my presence?”
“The sheriff has jurisdiction there and, no, I didn’t inform them. I don’t want any leaks within their department that could end up compromising Emily’s safety.”
“What level of danger is Emily in?”
“I don’t know. All I know is she’s not safe in this city anymore.”
Jane took a drag on her cigarette. “You don’t think that there’s any connection between that nutcase that Chris dragged in? The one with the Lawrence’s silver cigarette case?”
“No. Like you said, whoever did this is smart and possibly a pro.”
Jane took another puff on her cigarette. “Where are we living?”
“The DA’s office has secured a rental house under the name ‘Anne Calver.’
Jane turned to Weyler, startled. “Anne Calver? That’s my mother’s name.”
“I know. I ran across it in some of the old files from when your dad worked at DH. I can’t have you using your real name. Protective custody means you alter everything, including names and relationships. I figured that Anne was a name you were more likely to respond to since you had some connection to it.”
“Anne Calver,” Jane mused.
Weyler handed Jane several stapled pages. “Here’s the address of the house, how to get to the real estate office so you can get your house key and a map of the area. The individual from the DA’s office who made the arrangements with the real estate company on your behalf—who, by the way, said she was a friend of yours—explained that you would be occupying the residence with your nine-and-a-half-year-old daughter.”
Jane looked up from the papers and stared at Weyler. “Daughter?”
“Names and relationships must change—”
“Wait a minute. You said I was hiding out with the kid. Nothing was said about me pretending to be her mother! I should have a say in this! I mean, do I look like someone’s mother?”
“You have to blend into the town, Jane. You want to avoid rumor and gossip. Easiest way to accomplish that is to make you mother and daughter. By the way, I didn’t give Emily another first name because I wanted her to choose it. It’s got to be a name that she responds to, so the two of you figure that out.”
Everything was happening too fast for Jane. “Boss, we have to talk about this—”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Anne Calver and her daughter are going to live in Peachville.”
“And where in the hell is Mr. Calver?”
“I’ll leave the details of your fabricated past up to you. He could be dead, you could be divorced or he could have been a one night stand. However, I would strongly consider against the one night stand option.