Protector - Laurel Dewey [188]
It was the front page of the Rocky Mountain News. It was a photo of Jane. Right next to a photo of Chris.
It didn’t immediately register with Jane. “Chris?” She let his name sink into her consciousness. “Chris was the man in your bedroom? Are you sure?”
“You knew!” Emily screamed.
“No, I didn’t!” Jane uttered in a state of shock, glancing away from Emily. “Oh, my God,” was all she could say. “Emily, I—”
Jane turned back, just in time to see the newspaper clipping fall to ground. Emily lunged forward, grabbed Jane’s Glock pistol on the bedside table and moved back against the wall. The child pointed the gun, two-handed at Jane. “You’re not gonna kill me like you killed my mommy and daddy.”
Jane felt a strange calmness come over her. It was the same, eerie, centered feeling she always got when her life was in danger. “Emily. Put the gun down.”
“No!”
“I didn’t kill your mommy and daddy. You know that.”
“It says in the paper that he’s your ‘partner.’ I know what that means! It means you do things together!”
“We didn’t—” Jane stopped. “I didn’t take part in any of this.”
“Liar!” Emily screamed, aiming the gun toward Jane’s head.
“Look me in the eye, Emily. I am not lying to you. I did not know Chris was the man in your bedroom until you told me!”
“How could you not know? He’s your partner! Partners know everything about each other!”
“No, Emily. That’s not always true.”
“How could you not see all the bad in his eyes? Didn’t you look?”
Jane was asking herself the same question. She shook her head in frustration. “I can’t answer that question.”
“I trusted you. I believed in you.”
“You still can, Emily.”
“No! I can’t!” Emily screamed, fighting back tears.
Silence washed over them, interrupted by Emily’s gasps of air. “So, this is the way it’s gonna end?” Jane carefully asked. “Okay. So be it. You know, Emily, I could tell you that if you kill me, they’ll put you in jail. But that’s not true. When the police ask why you shot me, tell them you were positive that your life was in danger and that you had no choice. They’ll believe you. They’ll believe you because you are a good, decent, innocent person and I’m pretty much the opposite. You talk to Sergeant Weyler about Chris, okay?” Jane reasoned that Weyler wasn’t involved in the corruption. “He’ll take care of it for you. And when all the dust settles, you’ll go to your aunt and uncle’s house in Cheyenne where you can live happily ever after. At night, you can rest easy, knowing that I’m dead and that Chris is on death row for what he did. Right now, all I ask is that when you shoot me, use only one bullet. I’d rather you didn’t have to unload a clip of ammo. You’ve got enough gruesome memories, you don’t need more. Just lower the gun a little bit so it’s square with my chest. That’s called a ‘center punch’ and it always works. You’ve got one shot and if you aim for the head . . . well, even good cops miss that one. So, lower the gun, pull the trigger and then get out of here.”
Emily stood paralyzed, her finger dancing across the trigger. Jane’s words echoed loudly in her head. “You’re trying to confuse me.”
“No, I’m not, Emily. I’ve been dead since I was 14 years old. You’ll just make my demise a reality for everyone else. Lower the gun, Emily. Go on,” Emily gradually lowered the Glock in line with Jane’s chest. She stared back at Jane, who returned her glance, expressionless and with no emotion. “Go on.” Jane said quietly.
Emily slid her finger onto the trigger. She looked deep into Jane’s eyes. “You really didn’t know about him, did you?” Her voice was strangled with emotion.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Jane whispered. “Pull the trigger, Emily.”
Emily brushed her finger against the trigger, tears streaming down her face. “I can’t!” She lowered the Glock, letting it drop to the floor. Emily bowed her head, sobbing uncontrollably.
Jane sat on the bed. She didn’t say a word or move a muscle as Emily fell to the floor, her chest heaving with each