Protector - Laurel Dewey [87]
“Yelling?” Jane was stunned and not sure what to think.
“Look, I’m not saying I approve of your shouting at the child for walking outside in the rain and tracking debris in the house—”
“Shouting at her? Wha—”
“Emily explained everything. She asked you if she could go outside and look at the stars. You said ‘no’ and she bolted off anyway. You ran outside, brought her back in, yelled at her and sent her to her room. Frankly, I don’t know why you called me.”
Jane was shocked. Weyler continued to talk but his words melted into white noise. She wandered across the living room and stood by the front door. Jane felt two eyes watching her and turned to the upstairs landing. There was Emily, standing in the shadows. She had ditched her soaked jumper, dried off her hair and changed into her pajamas with the star design. As Weyler’s voice droned in the distance, Jane looked up at Emily. The child stared at Jane with a look of utter forgiveness and unconditional love. Jane couldn’t make sense of any of it. How could anyone feel like that toward her after what she did? Emily ducked back into the darkness and retreated to her bedroom, closing the door behind her.
“I understand this job is taking its toll on you.” Weyler’s voice bled back into Jane’s consciousness. “And I’m aware that you’re not used to working with children. But you must be doing something right. The child obviously has kind feelings for you. She said over and over how it was her fault that she went outside and that she doesn’t blame you one bit for yelling at her. So, if that’s all you need from me, I’ll be on my way.” Weyler started toward the front door.
“I can’t stay here,” Jane said quietly. “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Jane, the child isn’t holding any grudge! Let’s move on!”
“Boss,” Jane reached out and grabbed Weyler by the arm. Weyler stopped, realizing she was serious. “I’m not asking to leave. I’m telling you that I’m leaving. Call her aunt and uncle in Cheyenne and take her up there.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes! Tonight! It’s a ninety minute drive. She’ll be up there before midnight.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“Yes. Actually, I have.”
“No one is driving that child anywhere tonight. You talk about protocol? I can’t suddenly call up her aunt and say ‘Make up the bed in the guest room. I’m bringing up your niece.’ She is still in our protective custody and that’s exactly where she’s going to stay until we solve this damn case or I feel there’s a justifiable reason to release the girl.”
“Then take her to the foster home—”
“Jane. I have broken every goddamn rule with this case. I have stretched my leveraging as far as it will go. I am not going to be sashaying this child around Denver tonight and plopping her in some foster house.”
“Fine. Go out there and get Martha and tell her she’s spending the night on the couch. I’m going home.” Jane opened the front door and walked into the darkness, leaving Weyler alone and stunned.
Jane did not say a word to Weyler during the ten minute drive back to her house. The Saturday evening traffic was a bit heavier than usual due to the Memorial Day Weekend events. As she stared out the window, Jane wondered if Emily had crept downstairs yet and found Martha sitting on the couch. Martha arrived at the door with a bag of oranges and apples, saying something about “It’s my dinner” to Jane as they passed on the front porch. Perhaps Martha had made a beeline up to the child’s bedroom to soothe Emily and ask her in a roundabout way the real reason Jane left. But she knew down deep that no matter how much Martha pried, that kid would never say a word about the physical altercation earlier that evening.
Jane was staggered and frustrated all in the same moment. Emily purposely covered up the violent event to protect Jane. Amazing. But why? It wasn’t like they were friends, Jane thought to herself. There wasn’t any kind of connection. Connection? It was too much for Jane to allow.
Weyler rolled up to Jane’s front door but kept the motor running. He stared straight ahead, silent and etched with disappointment.