Protector - Laurel Dewey [195]
Jane slammed the car door and brusquely fought her way through the throngs of revelers. She slunk underneath the orange wooden barricade and raced across the street, repeating the same maneuver on the other side until she reached the empty sidewalk. Jane ran down the sidewalk, scanning the crowd for any sign of Kathy, Heather or Emily. A block and a half up Main Street she spotted Heather leaning against a metal stair rail. As usual, the child had a petulant look on her face as she stood with her arms tightly folded across her chest. Jane made a mad dash for her.
“Heather!” Jane said, out of breath, “Where’s Emily?”
“I don’t know any Emily!” Heather said with a nasty tone. “I know a Patty—”
“Where is she, Heather?” Jane yelled, tiring of the kid’s attitude.
“You better stay away from me! If you hurt me, I’m telling the sheriff!”
Jane suddenly looked up at the building behind Heather. “For God’s sake!” Jane yelled as she tore up the front stairs of the sheriff’s office and ran into the building. She stopped momentarily when she stepped inside the antiquated office. A heavy wooden counter stood ten feet in front of her. There wasn’t a soul in sight. She heard two voices speaking in quiet, subdued tones in an adjacent room. Jane lunged toward the counter’s latched door and tried to open it, but it was locked. She jumped onto the counter and spun over to the other side. Once her feet hit the marble green flooring, she could see Sheriff George having a serious conversation with Kathy. “Hey!” Jane called out in a clipped shout as she moved toward them. They turned in unison with looks of apprehension on their faces. Jane walked toward Kathy. “You stupid bitch!”
“There! You see, Sheriff?” Kathy said, standing closer to Sheriff George’s side. “That’s the kind of hairpin anger I’m talking about!”
“Now, look,” the sheriff warned Jane, “you better just calm yourself down.”
“You have no idea what’s going on here!”
“I have a very good idea!”
“Where’s Emily?” Jane demanded.
“Emily? Right, Emily. She’s just fine and dandy,” the sheriff replied.
“Where is she?” Jane shouted.
“She’s safe. She’s in the back room with our deputy,” Sheriff George said sternly.
Jane started for the back room. “I have to talk to her!”
The sheriff moved his large physique in front of Jane, halting her progress. “You don’t need to be talking to her right now—”
Jane stared down the sheriff. “You don’t understand—”
“Oh, yes I do. I know you’re not who you say you are. I know you are not that child’s mother!”
Jane took a step back. “Oh, Christ,” Jane mumbled as she ran her fingers through her tangled brown hair. She didn’t want to deliver the bombshell in front of Kathy but she realized she was backed into a corner. “Okay, look, before I go into this, I want it known that I have done everything above board and according to procedure.”
“Is that right?” Sheriff George retorted, a smug look on his face.
“Yes!” Jane said, taking offense at his tone.
“Is slapping that child across the face part of your ‘procedure? ’”
Jane was rattled by the sheriff’s question. She searched for the right response as Kathy stared at her. “I . . . ah—” Jane stumbled on her words.
“Do you deny assaulting that child?” the sheriff intoned.
“She was hysterical. She was hurting herself. She’d just heard devastating news—”
“So you decided to assault her to make the news more pleasant?”
“Stop saying ‘assault’! I did what I had to do!”
“Ah! You do admit striking the child?”
“Yes, I hit her! Look, what happened back at the house is between the kid and me! No one else needs to get involved!”
“You mean, like, Social Services?”
Jane regarded the sheriff with a confused stance. “Social Services? This is bullshit! Time is ticking away! I’ve got to talk to her!”
Jane started for the back room when the sheriff once again stood in front of her. “She is perfectly alright back there!”
Jane knew she had to spill the whole story. The familiar, off-key clamor of the Peachville High School marching band could