Protector - Laurel Dewey [79]
Jane moved closer to Chris and spoke in a confidential manner. “I never wanted anything to do with this case. I’m just doing what I’m told to do. And you, more than anyone, should understand that!”
Chris regarded Jane with a quizzical eye. “What do you mean?”
“Figure it out.” Jane turned away.
Tension gripped Chris. “If you know something and you’re not telling me—”
Jane wearily faced Chris. “I know a lot of things.” “That kid did tell you something—”
“Maybe she did. But if I told you, I don’t know that you’d have the necessary discernment to evaluate it. God, Chris, look at you! You smell like piss and you look like shit. And you have the nerve to say that I’m fucked up?”
There was an uneasy silence between the two of them. Chris sized up Jane. “You think you’re smarter than me?” Chris asked.
“Right now? Yes.”
“You don’t know everything, Jane.”
“I know a shitpot more than you and that’s all that counts.” She turned on her heels.
Chris stared at Jane with penetrating anger. “Where are you going?”
“I need to talk to Weyler alone.”
“Why alone?”
“Chris, you really gotta take something for that paranoia.”
“Like a drink?” Chris replied. Jane froze. Chris knew he hit a soft spot. “What’s it been? Two? Three days? That’s a fucking lifetime for you. Has your skin started to crawl yet? Has your head started to pound? Are your hands shaking? ’Cause I know how addicts get when they’re jonesin’ for a fix. And I’m looking at a walking example of it right now.”
Jane turned around to face Chris. Everything he said was true but there was no way she would own up to it. “Fuck you.”
Chris grabbed Jane by the arm. “No, Jane. Fuck you.” His cutting stare lingered before he headed down the hall and disappeared around the corner.
Jane spun around and made her way into Weyler’s office. She closed the door and stood against his desk in an aggressive stance. “As far as I’m concerned, this case is over. Call Emily’s aunt and uncle in Cheyenne and get her out of this city!”
“I’m not ready to cut and run. It was one phone call, Jane. One. And it was probably just some nutcase.”
“You really believe that?”
“Pretty much.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve ‘pretty much’ had it with the direction of this investigation. I’ve been lied to. I’ve been spied on. And I’ve been stuck in a house with a kid who’s got a puzzle piece memory and tells me stories of how her daddy liked to drink and how her parents liked to yell a lot.”
“What else is she saying?” Jane hesitated for a second, but it was long enough to garner suspicion from Weyler. “What did she tell you, Jane?”
There was no way Jane was going to bring up the whole “third voice” that Emily said she heard on that fateful night. Jane wanted the whole thing to be over and she was determined to do anything to make that happen. “It’s like I’ve said before. There is no justice or righteousness in making this kid remember what happened that night.”
“That’s where you and I disagree. I say there’s no justice or righteousness without it! And I have the final word on this matter. So I suggest you turn around, go back to that house and continue to draw out what you can from that child’s memory. Do I make myself clear?”
Jane stared at Weyler, gradually realizing that any attempts to argue were futile. She was stuck. Trapped. Lured into a situation that repelled and sickened her. All she wanted to do at that moment was to get in her car and drive and keep driving until she was a million miles away from that place. She wanted to numb the monster that was waking up inside her. Walking back into that house and facing Emily was like volunteering for torture. And yet, there were no words that would convince Weyler to change his mind.
Jane instructed the patrol officer to stop by a sandwich shop en route to the Lawrence house. The way she was feeling, there was no way she was going to cook lunch. She arrived back at the house just before one o’ clock. Neighborhood kids gleefully rode their bikes alongside the pathway that edged around the glimmering lake. It