Protector - Laurel Dewey [60]
“Whatever it takes?” Jane retorted. “Want me to pry off her fingernails?”
“Do your fucking job so I can end this.” Chris started out the back door and turned around. “I’m still going to Lake Dillon after the shift tonight. Tomorrow, when I’m on the water with my new boat and starin’ at my new custom boots, I’ll pop open a beer and think of you. I bet a cold one sounds pretty good to you about now, eh?” A sadistic smirk crossed his face.
Weyler called in from the living room. “Let’s do this!”
“Showtime!” Chris whispered as he turned and walked out the back door.
Jane secured the lock on the back door, still stinging from Chris’ comments. She then joined Weyler who was standing at the front door.
“You ready?” Weyler asked. Jane nodded. Weyler opened the front door. Framed against the filtered light of the setting sun, stood Martha Durrett holding tightly onto Emily’s hand.
“Good evening, Sergeant,” Martha said, haltingly. “Detective.”
“Hello, Emily,” Weyler said, lowering his angled frame and holding out his hand. Emily withdrew her hand from Martha’s tight grasp and shook his hand. “Come in,” Weyler beckoned as the child crossed the threshold and stood next to Jane. Emily was dressed in a denim jumper, red short-sleeved blouse and dark blue cardigan. She held tightly onto her Starlight Starbright projector, safely ensconced in its navy blue carrying case.
Martha knelt down in front of the child. “Remember what I told you,” she said with her trademark patronizing tone. “If you get those scary feelings in your tummy, you are allowed to leave. Okay?” Emily nodded. Martha pulled out a pocket-sized flashlight with a key chain attached—the plastic covered kind that, when squeezed, produces a bright LED blue sapphire light. “This is a very special flashlight, Emily. Four squeezes will be our special signal.” Jane couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Martha angled the flashlight up in the air and squeezed it four successive times as she said with each squeeze, “H-E-L-P.” Without realizing it, the pointed sapphire light was pointing directly into Jane’s eyes.
Jane turned away and walked into the living room, mumbling under her breath, “Oh, S-H-I-T.”
“We need to move along, Martha,” Weyler said gently.
Martha attached the small flashlight onto the right strap of Emily’s denim jumper. “I’m putting this here so that you can use it at a moment’s notice. Just go to one of the front windows and flash our special signal out to the car and I will be at your side within seconds.” Martha awkwardly patted Emily on her head and reluctantly returned outside to her observation vehicle.
Weyler bent down toward Emily so he was on her eye-level. “Everything’s going to be fine, honey.” Weyler nodded toward Jane and left.
Emily stood on the hard wooden floor, facing the living room. Her expression reminded Jane of the term “poker face.”
“You can call me Jane.”
“Okay,” Emily said quietly.
Jane felt a swell of irritation build in her stomach. Another minute of deafening silence passed between them. “Look, kid, I just want you to know that I think bringing you back here is a stupid idea and a waste of our time. As far as I’m concerned, you can sit on the couch and watch TV.”
Emily glanced around the living room. “I can’t. The TV’s gone.”
Jane turned around and realized Emily was right. “Oh, shit.”
“Where’s all the stuff? Why’s the carpet missing?”
It took the child less than one minute to observe the one thing that had concerned Jane from the outset. Jane clenched her jaw and let out a deep sigh. “A lot of things, unfortunately, had to be removed so the police could look at them.”
“Are they going to put them back where they got them?” said Emily, with a slight indignant sound to her voice.
It would have been easy to lie to the kid and placate her with some dressed up answer, but that just wasn’t Jane’s style. “Probably not.”
Emily took several steps into the living room, noting every crevice