Protector - Laurel Dewey [57]
She tried to open the door but Weyler kept his hand firmly against it. “You can’t tell me that you believe that in your heart.”
Jane looked Weyler in the eyes. “Yes, I do.”
He scrutinized Jane for a second. “That’s too bad. But that doesn’t change the fact that Emily trusts you and only you. You’re the only one she’ll talk to. Whether you want to accept it or not, the two of you made an odd little connection. What draws the two of you together is what she knows deep down and what you can get out of her. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
Jane’s eyes widened, an anger edged with fear. “No!” Jane bolted toward the center of the living room.
“Whatever she knows or saw is asleep inside of her. Only you can wake it up.”
“Absolutely not!”
“I want you and the child alone in this house for twenty-four hours. Maybe longer. It goes against all policy but I’ll take care of the details.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not expecting you to probe her with questions. Just be with her and pay attention to what she says or what she can remember.”
“You will never convince Social Services, not to mention her guardian adlitum and the court psychologist to agree to that deal! They’ll take it in front of a judge!”
“I know my way around the system. I have a lot of friends who owe me big favors. I’ll take care of it. I have a strong feeling that when Emily returns here, she might get a glimpse of what she saw that night.”
“This is Chris’ case! Have him talk to her!”
“She won’t talk to anyone but you.”
“I won’t do it.”
“You’re on shaky ground with the Department, Jane—”
“Wait, the Department says that I’m too fucked up to solve other crimes but I’m not too fucked up to hang out with a nine-year-old kid and somehow manipulate her to tell me what she possibly did or didn’t see? Is that what I’m hearing? Because if that’s what you’re telling me, I want you to think how that’s gonna play back at DH!”
“Like I said, I can be very convincing with the higher-ups when I have to be. Besides, they don’t know how often you attend ‘choir practice.’ I’ve done everything I can over the years to keep your self-medicating as quiet as possible.”
Jane looked at Weyler, stupefied. “You don’t get it, boss. You want me to lead that kid straight down to hell. Down in the sludge and the blood and the outright fear of it all. And you buy into all that psychobabble shit that if she helps us solve this mess, she’s gonna magically wipe away all those demons in her head and get healed. Well, that’s not the way it works! You can’t draw that hell out of somebody and expect them to ever be normal again. Because they will never know what normal feels like. I will not be responsible for fucking up the rest of that kid’s life.”
“I think you want to know.”
Jane exploded. “I know what she sees!” Her voice caught suddenly. “What she . . . saw.”
“Good! That’s why you’re the only one I can trust.”
“Boss, listen to me. What she saw should be forgotten!” Jane turned away from Weyler, her chin trembling. Inside her head, it felt like a million electrical lines had crossed and ignited simultaneously. She wanted out of that house and to feel the burn of a whiskey shot on her tongue.
Weyler leaned on the front door, crossing his arms. “Okay, let’s look at this your way and follow it through. We drop the case, not wanting to cause any more pain to Emily. We pat her on the head, wish her luck and send her to the aunt and uncle in Cheyenne. Life goes on for her. She makes new friends, starts a new school, sleeps in a new bed, plays with new toys. But somewhere inside, something is never quite right with her. She can feel it. It’s like she has the answer to a million dollar question on the tip of her tongue but she just can’t quite remember what it is. So the years pass, but still that nagging feeling never leaves her. Then one day, she’s driving her car down the street and she sees something—something insignificant by itself, but for whatever reason, it triggers her memory. And in a