Protector - Laurel Dewey [206]
“And now?”
“Now I don’t know anything.”
“That’s not true.”
Jane knew she couldn’t share her odd, paranormal experiences with Weyler. “It’s been a weird six weeks, boss. And it all lead up to me . . .” Jane’s voice trailed off.
“Did you think you could actually kill a man—even a man who deserved to die—and not feel something deep down in your gut?” Jane was surprised at Weyler’s candor. “Good God, Jane, you’re not a damn robot. When did you start thinking you weren’t allowed to feel like the rest of us?”
Jane’s mind drifted back to that loathsome memory so many years ago. “A long time ago, boss.”
Weyler observed Jane. “Because of what your father did to you?”
Jane looked at Weyler in shock. “You know?”
“I don’t have to know the details. All I know is that you’ve walked around your entire adult life talking yourself into a lie.”
“You’re losing me, boss.”
“You’ve told me that you’ve been dead for years. But you’re very much alive. You walk around with that cocksure swagger because you think you’re inadequate. I’ve told you many times, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. You believe that evil breeds evil. So, you think you’re evil. But your heart tells me differently. Your actions don’t equal your perceptions, no matter how hard you try to fit that mold. All these years, you’ve been living an illusion. You’re not dead. You’re not stupid. And you’re sure as hell not evil. Your father? That’s another story. As always, it comes down to that inevitable question of nature versus nurture. Your good nature triumphed over your nurturing. Jane, you’ve been waking up in someone else’s nightmare for a long time. Let it go.”
Jane let his words sink in. She took a drag on her cigarette. “All the stories we tell ourselves. All the convictions we serve that don’t serve us. It’s like falling into the ocean and you’re hanging on to the towrope of a boat. And it’s dragging you under, and killing you. But you hold on because you think it’s your job to drown. We’re all just too afraid to let go of that towrope.”
“You let go of that towrope, Jane, and you might find freedom.”
Jane took another drag on her cigarette. “That’s a frightening proposition.”
“Fear is a brilliant weapon, my dear.” Weyler stood up.
Jane turned away from Weyler. “When you finally come face-to-face with the thing you fear the most, the thing that’s been dogging you for your entire life . . . when you really look at it for what it truly is . . . it’s not that it’s easy . . . but . . .” She looked at Weyler. “I killed a man today in order to save another person’s life. And I don’t regret it. But there’s no satisfaction in it.”
Weyler rested his hand on Jane’s shoulder. “I want you to take some time off.”
Jane nodded. “Yeah. I think I will.” She stood up and faced Weyler. “I got to do some thinking. I gotta figure out where I fit in and what I’m good at.”
“I already know the answer to that one.”
“I gotta know it, boss. I’ve got to be able to picture where I’m supposed to be.”
“Well, how about this: Picture yourself sitting at Sergeant Hank Weiting’s desk down the hall from me. He retired last week so that office of his is real empty and just begging for a competent individual to occupy that swivel chair.”
“Boss, I don’t know . . .”
“I hear you.” Weyler started off down the front pathway. “Sergeant Jane Perry. That’s got a damn good ring to it.” Weyler glanced back at Jane, who returned his look with a skeptical expression.
The nurse exited the front door. “She’s asking for you,” she said to Jane.
Jane tossed her cigarette and jumped to attention. “Good. I need to talk to her.”
“She needs to be unconscious for a while. I gave her a sedative five minutes ago.” Jane winced at the thought. The nurse handed her a prescription bottle. “When she wakes up, if she’s the least bit fretful, give her two more. That should even things out.”
“Even things out?” Jane’s said in a mocking tone. “That’s a tired euphemism, don’t you think? Be honest. You want to keep her numb.”
“That’s the kindest thing you can