Protector - Laurel Dewey [31]
The trio of onlookers in the observation room stood transfixed.
“Jesus,” Chris said quietly to Weyler. “The kid does know something.”
Emily came out of her daze and stared at herself in the mirror. “I know a secret.”
Jane felt her body stiffen. “Is that so?” was all she could manage.
Emily got up and slowly made her way toward Jane. She hesitated briefly before cupping her hand to Jane’s ear and whispering.
Weyler and Chris strained to hear the microphone pick up any sound but it was useless. “What in the hell—” Chris said under his breath. As Emily whispered into Jane’s ear, Jane remained stonefaced. When Emily finished, Jane kept a poker face but turned her head slightly toward the two-way mirror. Chris shook his head in frustration. “I don’t fuckin’ believe this.”
Emily pulled away from Jane, never once taking her eyes off her. Jane gathered her thoughts. “Is that all you have to say?”
Emily stared, absolutely transfixed by Jane’s face. “It’s really . . . weird . . .”
Jane’s gut unexplainably clamped down. Staring back at Emily, she felt slightly disoriented. “What’s . . . weird?”
Emily looked off to side as if she were trying to remember something. “I can’t explain it.” She carefully crossed back to her chair and sat down.
Jane did her best to shake off the disjointed sensations competing for her attention. Damn, the booze. “Well, I’ll leave you be.” Jane plopped the cigarette butt into her coffee cup and got up. But before she could take a step, Emily reached out and tightly grabbed her hand. An electrical jolt raced down her spine as she locked eyes with the child. The deeper Jane sank into those eyes, the closer she came to losing control. She had seen the exact same eyes filled with fear looking back at her more than twenty years ago. But there was something else—something closer that tugged at a fresh memory. She could feel herself falling into herself. It was all she could do to yank her hand out of Emily’s grasp and head out the door.
Jane slammed the door shut and pressed her back up against it. She grabbed her head as a jumbled blur of blurry images raced in front of her. Weyler emerged from the observation room, followed closely by Martha and Chris.
“What have you done to that child?!” Martha barked at Jane as she pushed her aside and went into the interrogation room.
Jane kept staring straight ahead, still not able to focus.
“What the hell did she whisper, Jane?” Chris yelled.
“Goddamnit, Jane! I’m lead detective on this case. Not you! What the fuck did she say?”
Weyler stood waiting, observing Jane and her reaction. Jane turned to Chris, clearly unsettled. “Fuck you.” With that, she turned, grabbed her satchel and headed toward the elevator. Weyler followed.
Weyler turned back to Chris. “Let me handle this!” Jane slammed her hand against the “down” button on the elevator. The doors opened and she got on. Weyler slid into the elevator just before the doors closed. Jane pounded the button that was marked “parking.”
“What happened in there, Jane?” Weyler asked in a probing manner.
“Leave me alone!” Jane was still shaking and trying to keep herself together.
“When she grabbed your hand, something happened.”
Jane pounded the “parking” button harder and harder. “Nothing happened!!!”
“I was standing on the other side of the wall! Don’t tell me nothing happened!” The doors opened onto the parking level and Jane burst off the elevator. Weyler stayed close on her tail. “If it was nothing, then why are you shaking? Why can’t you look me in the eye? Why can’t you tell me the truth you’re so fond of telling?”
Jane stopped several feet from her car and turned to Weyler. “You want to know what she said? She said, ‘I know they’re watching us from the other side of that funny mirror.’ Satisfied?!” She swung open her unlocked car door and got in.
Weyler leaned his hands on the open window. “Alright. But that doesn’t explain your present behavior. What are you not telling me?”
“Boss, I swear to God, if you don’t take your hands off this car . . .”
Weyler stood back. Jane shifted her