The Neighbor - Lisa Gardner [58]
The child beamed.
“I like Lil’ Bunny” Marianne continued conversationally. “I had Winnie the Pooh when I was your age. He had a music box inside that when you wound it up, played Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.’”
“I like Pooh, too,” Ree said earnestly. She had moved closer now, onto the rug, peering around Marianne to the wicker basket. “Where is your Pooh bear? Is he in the basket?”
“Actually, he’s at home, on my bookshelf. He was a special toy for me, and I don’t think we ever outgrow our special toys.” But Marianne moved the basket onto the rug, closer to Ree, who was clearly engaged now and very curious about the rest of the contents of the magic room.
D.D. sneaked a second glance at Jason Jones. Still no response. Happy, sad, worried, anxious. Nada. She made a second note on her pad.
“Ree, do you know why you are here today?”
Some of the spark went out of the child. She hunched a little, her hands rubbing her rabbit as she sat back. “Daddy said you are a nice lady. He said if I spoke to you, it would be all right.”
Now D.D. could feel Jason tense. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but the veins suddenly stood out on his neck.
“What would be all right, sweetheart?”
“Will you bring my mommy back?” Ree asked in a muffled voice. “Mr. Smith came back. Just this morning. He scratched on the door and we let him in and I love him, but … Will you bring my mommy back? I miss my mommy.”
Marianne didn’t speak right away. She seemed to be studying the child sympathetically while letting the silence stretch on. Through the observation window, D.D. contemplated the pink rug, the folding chairs, the basket of toys, anything but the pained look on the little girl’s face. Beside her, Miller shifted uncomfortably in his chair. But Jason Jones still didn’t move a muscle or say a word.
“Tell me about your family,” Marianne said. D.D. recognized the interview technique. Back away from the sensitive topic. Define the child’s broader world. Then circle back to the wound. “Who’s in your family?”
“There is me and Mommy and Daddy,” Ree began. She was rubbing Lil’ Bunny’s ear again. “And Mr. Smith, of course. Two girls and two boys.”
D.D. made more notes, the family genealogy as seen through the eyes of the four-year-old child.
“What about other relatives?” Marianne was asking. “Aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents, or anyone else?”
Ree shook her head.
D.D. wrote down, Extended Family??? The child apparently didn’t know about her own grandfather, perhaps confirming Jason’s assertion that Sandra and her father were estranged, or perhaps confirming that Jason Jones had done an excellent job of isolating his much younger wife.
“What about babysitters? Does anyone else help take care of you, Ree?”
Ree regarded Marianne blankly. “Mommy and Daddy take care of me.”
“Of course. But what if they’re working, or maybe they need to go somewhere?”
“Daddy works, Mommy watches me,” Ree said. “Then Daddy comes home, and Mommy goes to work, but Daddy has to sleep, so I go to school. Then Daddy picks me up and we have Daddy-Daughter time.”
“I see. Where do you go to school, Ree?”
“I go to preschool. In the brick building with the big kids. I’m in the Little Flowers room. Next year, though, when I am five, I will go to the big classroom with the kinnygardeners.”
“Who are your teachers?”
“Miss Emily and Mrs. Suzie.”
“Best friends?”
“I play with Mimi and Olivia. We like to play fairies. I’m a Garden Fairy.”
“So you have best friends. What about your mommy and daddy who are their best friends?”
It was another routine question, generally used in CSAs, or Child Sexual Assaults, when the person of interest might not be a relative, but a suspected neighbor or friend of the family. It was important that the child define her own world, so later, should the interviewer bring up a name, it did not appear as if the interviewer were leading the witness.
Ree, however, shook her head. “Daddy says I’m his best friend. ’Sides, he works a lot, so I don’t think he gets to have friends. Daddies are very busy.”
This time Miller looked