Protector - Laurel Dewey [203]
“You did know me, Dan. Do you remember when you and I were walking around the carnival after the dance contest? You told me about your sister and that ex-husband of hers that almost killed her.”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“You compared your ex brother-in-law to my supposed ex-husband. You told me that when a woman is used to gettin’ beat on, she tends to pick that kind of man, and she doesn’t even realize that she’s doing it. Then you said that you’d bet a dime to a donut that that’s the kind of guy I’d fall for. And you were right.”
Dan stood dumbfounded. “You’re so much better than that, Jane.”
“You know, I’ve said those exact words on the job to hundreds of women. They just ring differently when they’re aimed back at you.”
Dan teared up. “From this moment on, you deserve the best life that anyone could ever ask for.”
Jane was touched by his words. “Thank you. Now, all I gotta do is convince myself of that.”
“Tell Emily I’ll come around later to say good-bye.” Dan turned and walked down the street.
Jane discarded her dying cigarette and quickly lit a new one. Weyler had been inside talking to Emily for over an hour. Jane felt like she was at the whim of protocol and other people’s agendas. She was just about to storm into the house when she caught sight of a familiar car parked across the street. It was Kathy. There she was sitting in the driver’s seat with Heather buckled into the passenger seat next to her, gawking at Jane. Jane clipped her cigarette between her lips and barreled across the street toward the car. Kathy started to jam the key into the ignition. Jane rounded the hood of the car, heading toward the passenger door. “Take the key out of the ignition, Kathy!” Jane ordered with every ounce of cop attitude.
Kathy dutifully obliged, scared to death. “What’s going on?”
Jane swung open the passenger door. “Get out of the car, Heather!”
Heather turned to her mother, paralyzed in fear. “Mom! Do something!”
Jane quickly reached in, unbuckled Heather’s seat belt and dragged the kid out of the car by her arm. “I said get out of the car and I mean it!”
Kathy stormed out of the car and onto the sidewalk. “Where are you taking her?”
“Police business!” Jane said with a serious tone.
“Police?” Kathy said, frightened. “But wha—”
“Stay on the sidewalk, Kathy! This is between your kid and me!” Jane lugged Heather across the park about fifteen yards before jerking the child behind two large bushes that obscured them both from sight. Jane kept a tight grip on Heather’s shoulder as she leaned down to get on eye level with the kid. For dramatic effect, Jane pushed back her jacket to reveal her Glock in its holster. Heather shook with fear. Her eyes widened when she spied the gun.
“Well, look at you!” Jane said. “You’re really shaking!
“I . . . I . . .” was all Heather could force out of her mouth.
“How does it feel, Heather?”
The kid couldn’t take her terrified eyes off the Glock. “Please, don’t—”
“How does it feel to be so terrified and so trapped at the same time? That’s exactly how Emily felt when you locked her in that closet!”
“Please . . . I—”
“How does it feel to think you’re gonna die?”
“Die?” The air caught in her throat. “I don’t want to die. Don’t shoot me!”
Jane eyed Heather with a sinister glare as she sucked the life out of her cigarette and flung it on the green grass. “Shoot you?” She waited, oozing the kind of intimidation usually set aside for hard-core criminals. “Well, let me think about that.” Jane said, as if she were actually contemplating the notion of plugging the brat. “No, I think shooting is too damn good for you. Here’s the deal, Heather. I’ve always known the truth about you. Now, you know the truth about me. So, here’s some advice. Number one, I strongly suggest that you straighten up fast and be