Protector - Laurel Dewey [29]
“Hey, why don’t you talk to the kid?” Jane yelled back. “You’re such a people person, I’m sure you’ll bond!”
“Alright, you two!” Weyler said. “That’s enough! Jane is not going to screw up your case, Chris. The child simply asked to talk to her and not you.”
“Fine,” Chris said, sounding like a petulant child. “Just find out what she saw and whatever important thing she has to tell you so I can solve this crime and get the media off my ass.”
“Oh, like you don’t love having your face splashed across the local news shows!” Jane exclaimed.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t like being hounded by the media? Constantly being asked if we’re as inept as we appear?”
“Have I got to pull the two of you apart?” Weyler interrupted.
“No, sir,” Chris said, scowling at Jane. “Just get the information we need. And keep your eye on the monitor in case I come up with questions. Don’t act like some one-woman renegade in there!”
Jane turned toward the interrogation room. “Your confidence overwhelms me.”
Weyler gently knocked on the interrogation room door. Martha Durrett opened the door and slipped out, closing the door quietly behind her.
“Detective Perry! You don’t look well,” Martha said, her voice laced with apprehension. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Oh, Christ,” Jane said, turning to Weyler. “I don’t need this shit!”
“There you go with that inappropriate language again! You can’t say those words in front of that child!” Martha turned to address Weyler. “Sergeant Weyler, I don’t feel this is a good idea. I’m almost positive that with a little role playing, engaging the child in some sort of artistic endeavor and maybe incorporating dolls that represent her family, I can convince Emily to disclose information to me.”
Jane rolled her eyes. “I can’t believe the state allows you anywhere near a kid!”
“Sergeant Weyler, the detective is out of order!”
Jane grabbed her throbbing head. “Hey, am I going in there or not?”
“I don’t think this is a prudent idea!” Martha exclaimed.
Weyler took Martha by the shoulder and ushered her into the observation room. “Martha, go inside and wait for me.” Martha reluctantly disappeared inside the narrow room. Weyler turned to Jane with a frazzled look. He grasped Jane’s shoulder tightly and looked her in the eye. “All I ask is that you do your job.” Jane nodded. Weyler turned, went into the observation room and closed the door behind him.
Jane walked into the interrogation room and shut the door. Emily was seated across the table from the two-way mirror. A stuffed animal shaped like a brown bear sat on the table in front of her, next to the computer.
Emily looked up at Jane, a look of slight surprise on her face. The girl seemed out of place in the room, sitting there in her denim jumper and cheerful yellow-and-red polka dot, short-sleeved shirt. “You’re here!” Emily exclaimed.
“In the flesh, kid,” Jane said as she slid into the chair opposite Emily.
Emily intently stared at Jane in utter fascination. After a second, all the kid could say was, “You’re here . . . in the flesh.” Emily looked stunned. The seeming worship by the kid made Jane feel uncomfortable. Nervously, she rubbed her head with her bandaged hand and let out a sigh. “Are you okay?” Emily asked Jane, genuinely concerned.
“Of course I’m okay.”
“You look kind of sick.”
“I’m not sick.”
“What’s that smell?”
“Excuse me?”
“You smell like my daddy when he gets drunk.”
“Oh, this is great,” Jane said as she pulled out a cigarette from her shirt pocket and lit up.
“I don’t think they let you smoke in here,” Emily said, motioning to the “No Smoking” sign.
“Is that a fact?” Jane said, taking a deep drag on her cigarette.
From inside the observation room, Chris buried his head in his hand and muttered, “I knew she was going to fuck this up.”
Emily’s eyes were drawn to Jane’s bandaged hand. “What happened to your hand?” she asked.
“It got burned.”
“In the kitchen?”
“No. In the line of duty.”
Emily looked at Jane, examining her face