Protector - Laurel Dewey [108]
“A new motor? What kind of money are you paying this guy?”
“Between his overtime and off-duty jobs, he’s putting in pretty good bank.”
“Too bad he can’t afford a personality,” she muttered under her breath.
“He’s going to be gone for another day or so unless his allergies kick up again. It seems good, clean mountain air always stirs up that rash of his.”
“I’ve always said, he operates better in filth.” Jane bit her lip. If Weyler was part of a corrupt police faction, Jane’s cutting words could come back on her. She quickly decided to change the subject.
“You ever pursue that idea of following the protection money in the Stover case?”
“Not yet. I’ve been a bit occupied.”
“You know, it’s a valid possibility that should be looked into. If we follow that trail, maybe we can find some common denominators.”
“I can tell you right now that the most common denominator you’re going to find is the Texas mob and then it always comes to a screeching halt.”
“But maybe by questioning other businesses we could discover a link to a specific individual who—”
“Jane, I understand your desire to solve the Stover case. But right now, I need you to focus on the case in front of you. You see my briefcase?” Weyler asked.
Jane looked around to the backseat. “Yeah.”
“There’s a manila envelope in there with copies of the Lawrence crime scene photos. I made a set for you. Put it in your bag. Next to it, you’ll find another envelope. There’s five thousand dollars in it. Your rent on the house has been prepaid so that money should be enough to cover living expenses for you and the child.”
Jane collected the two envelopes from Weyler’s briefcase. As she slipped them into her leather satchel, two questions crossed her mind. How far in advance had the rent been paid on her house and how long was five thousand dollars supposed to last? “So, this is gonna cover everything I need?” Jane probed, trying to discern more information. “I don’t want to suddenly come up short—”
“Don’t worry,” Weyler said, looking straight ahead. “You won’t.”
Jane didn’t know what to make of Weyler’s last comment. But even if she could have figured out a clever response, it wouldn’t have mattered. Weyler turned a corner near the old Stapleton Airport and pulled up behind a parked, tan sedan. He turned off the motor and handed the keys to Jane. She started out of the car when Weyler put his hand on her arm. “Whatever happens over there, whatever may come to pass, I want you to realize that it’s not about blame anymore. It’s about the job. You understand?”
Jane couldn’t look at him. Her heart raced as a wave of rage welled inside. If she and Emily were being led to the slaughter, she had no intention of being knocked off without a good fight. “Yeah, boss, I understand.” Jane said, with a defiant tone.
Jane and Weyler exited the Subaru. Almost simultaneously, Emily and the patrol officer got out of their vehicle. Emily stood by the side of the unmarked sedan, her Starlight Starbright navy blue, vinyl case clutched in one hand. She was dressed in a short-sleeved cotton dress with pictures of tiny daffodils plastered all over it. A gauze bandage covered the left side of her injured temple. To Jane, the kid looked as though she had been through a war and was the last soldier standing. Emily’s face lit up when she saw Jane. In turn, Jane felt a sense of comfort when she locked eyes with the child.
Weyler conferred with the patrol officer as Jane walked over to Emily. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Emily replied with a soft smile.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. It only hurts a little. I can get the stitches out in ten days.”
“Good.” Jane glanced over at Weyler, who was still talking to the officer. She bent closer to Emily. “They explain everything to you?” Emily nodded. “You cool with this?”
“I guess.”
“Alright.” Jane patted Emily on the shoulder
“So, when are we leaving, Jane? I mean . . .” Emily struggled a bit. “Mom?”
Jane was caught off guard. “Look, you don’t have to do that when it’s