Protector (37 page)
Authors: Laurel Dewey
Tags: #Police Procedural, #Denver (Colo.), #Mystery & Detective, #Psychic ability, #Women detectives, #Crime, #Suspense, #Women Sleuths, #Children of murder victims, #Fiction, #Occult & Supernatural, #Espionage
Jane waited until Mike was well on his way to work before leaving a message on his tape. Attempting to sound as ordinary and offhand as possible, she asked him to pick up her mail and take it to Weyler, per his instructions. She paused, trying to formulate some suitable good-bye, not knowing when or if she would ever return from her covert trip to that small-town, netherworld of Colorado known as Peachville. But before she spoke, Mike’s machine abruptly cut her off.
The vehicle pulled up in front of Jane’s house. Peering outside, she saw Weyler getting out of a car. Securing her shoulder holster and Glock, Jane grabbed her bags and turned around to face her living room. She gazed around the room and drank it in. If it was really good-bye, she wanted to etch the memory in her mind. Jane opened her front door just as Weyler walked up to the porch.
“Give you a hand?” Weyler asked, reaching for Jane’s luggage.
“Sure.” Jane felt her body tighten. Whether warranted or not, she regarded her boss with a modicum of suspicion.
Weyler trotted down the pathway and unlocked the hatchback of a station wagon. Jane walked toward the car with angst written across her face. “What’s this?”
“This is your new car.”
“Oh, dear God. Tell me you’re kidding.”
“It’s almost a brand-new Subaru Outback wagon.” Weyler slammed the hatchback shut. Jane moved closer, her mouth slightly agape. “It’s not as bad as you’re making it out, Jane. It’s got cruise control, a sunroof and a CD player.”
“Really?” Jane said, still not believing she was expected to drive what she considered to be a boring, cookie-cutter, assembly-line car. “Wow, I just got a chill.”
“Save your sarcasm, would you?”
“What? I’m thrilled you decided you give me a vehicle that goes from zero to forty in no time flat! Where’s the dog?” Jane asked.
“The dog?”
“Don’t golden retriever/lab mixes usually come with the purchase of any Subaru wagon? I need a dog to complete the picture of the perfect single mom with her kid.”
“Are you done?”
Jane walked around the rear of the wagon and noted a series of stickers on the bumper. One was a cheerful blue-and-white sticker that proclaimed “I Brake For Butterflies!” Another read “Love Mother Earth” while still another urged people to recycle and save trees. “Where did you say you got this car?”
“It was part of a drug confiscation. The woman was a 52-year-old meth dealer.”
“A meth dealer owned this car? Well, glad to know there’s one meth dealer out there who brakes for butterflies.”
“We do need to get going.” Weyler slid his angular body into the car as Jane followed. “We’re meeting Emily at a drop point out by the old Stapleton Airport. I’ve asked one of the patrol officers to drive her there.”
“How is she?” Jane asked, carefully choosing her words.
“Physically, she seems to be quite well. Emotionally, she’s still shaken up. But I’m sure once she sees you, she’ll calm down.” Jane pulled out a cigarette. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t smoke while I’m in the car,” Weyler stated.
Jane put the cigarette back in the pack and looked out the window as Weyler drove down Milwaukee Street. She debated how to handle their time together. She would have to tread a tenuous line between treating him like her boss and addressing him as if he were a suspect. More than anything, if Weyler was involved in a covert police deal, Jane wanted to make sure that she didn’t let on. “So,” Jane said, “does this happen a lot?”
“How do you mean?”
Jane kept looking out the window. She knew if her eyes met Weyler’s, she could possibly give herself away. “You know, have there been instances in the past when detectives have had to lay low with a witness?”
“There’s been a few,” Weyler said, adjusting the rearview mirror.
“I see. Do you pick the same town each time?”
“That’s confidential information.”
“Uh-huh,” Jane responded, feeling very uneasy. While it wasn’t in her to petition someone or beg them for forgiveness, somehow she felt that perhaps a last minute appeal might help. “You know, boss, I know I haven’t been the model cop for a while. And I can understand if you . . .” Jane searched for the right words, “if you were so pissed off that you decided to teach me some sort of lesson—”
“This is not about teaching you any lesson, Jane—”
“I’m just saying if it were, so be it. But Emily doesn’t deserve to be dragged into some sort of mess because of me.” Jane knew if she went any further, Weyler would become too suspicious.
“As long as you do as I asked, you’ll be fine.” Weyler’s response sounded oddly tart to Jane. “Keep the pager on and only call me when you absolutely have to. I’ll do the same. Remember, do everything you can to blend in.”
Jane’s ears perked up at the same words her father repeated the night before. “Blend in. Right.” Jane tried to shake off a sense of foreboding. “You talk to Chris?”
“No. He left a message on my voice mail that he was heading back to Lake Dillon. He mentioned something about having some guy up there install a more powerful motor on his new boat.”
“A new motor? What kind of money are you paying this guy?”
“Between his overtime and off-duty jobs, he’s putting in pretty good bank.”
“Too bad he can’t afford a personality,” she muttered under her breath.
“He’s going to be gone for another day or so unless his allergies kick up again. It seems good, clean mountain air always stirs up that rash of his.”
“I’ve always said, he operates better in filth.” Jane bit her lip. If Weyler was part of a corrupt police faction, Jane’s cutting words could come back on her. She quickly decided to change the subject.
“You ever pursue that idea of following the protection money in the Stover case?”
“Not yet. I’ve been a bit occupied.”
“You know, it’s a valid possibility that should be looked into. If we follow that trail, maybe we can find some common denominators.”
“I can tell you right now that the most common denominator you’re going to find is the Texas mob and then it always comes to a screeching halt.”
“But maybe by questioning other businesses we could discover a link to a specific individual who—”
“Jane, I understand your desire to solve the Stover case. But right now, I need you to focus on the case in front of you. You see my briefcase?” Weyler asked.
Jane looked around to the backseat. “Yeah.”
“There’s a manila envelope in there with copies of the Lawrence crime scene photos. I made a set for you. Put it in your bag. Next to it, you’ll find another envelope. There’s five thousand dollars in it. Your rent on the house has been prepaid so that money should be enough to cover living expenses for you and the child.”
Jane collected the two envelopes from Weyler’s briefcase. As she slipped them into her leather satchel, two questions crossed her mind. How far in advance had the rent been paid on her house and how long was five thousand dollars supposed to last? “So, this is gonna cover everything I need?” Jane probed, trying to discern more information. “I don’t want to suddenly come up short—”
“Don’t worry,” Weyler said, looking straight ahead. “You won’t.”
Jane didn’t know what to make of Weyler’s last comment. But even if she could have figured out a clever response, it wouldn’t have mattered. Weyler turned a corner near the old Stapleton Airport and pulled up behind a parked, tan sedan. He turned off the motor and handed the keys to Jane. She started out of the car when Weyler put his hand on her arm. “Whatever happens over there, whatever may come to pass, I want you to realize that it’s not about blame anymore. It’s about the job. You understand?”
Jane couldn’t look at him. Her heart raced as a wave of rage welled inside. If she and Emily were being led to the slaughter, she had no intention of being knocked off without a good fight. “Yeah, boss, I understand.” Jane said, with a defiant tone.
Jane and Weyler exited the Subaru. Almost simultaneously, Emily and the patrol officer got out of their vehicle. Emily stood by the side of the unmarked sedan, her Starlight Starbright navy blue, vinyl case clutched in one hand. She was dressed in a short-sleeved cotton dress with pictures of tiny daffodils plastered all over it. A gauze bandage covered the left side of her injured temple. To Jane, the kid looked as though she had been through a war and was the last soldier standing. Emily’s face lit up when she saw Jane. In turn, Jane felt a sense of comfort when she locked eyes with the child.
Weyler conferred with the patrol officer as Jane walked over to Emily. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Emily replied with a soft smile.
“How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay. It only hurts a little. I can get the stitches out in ten days.”
“Good.” Jane glanced over at Weyler, who was still talking to the officer. She bent closer to Emily. “They explain everything to you?” Emily nodded. “You cool with this?”
“I guess.”
“Alright.” Jane patted Emily on the shoulder
“So, when are we leaving, Jane? I mean . . .” Emily struggled a bit. “Mom?”
Jane was caught off guard. “Look, you don’t have to do that when it’s just you and me. That’s just for when we’re in public. Where are your bags?”
“In the backseat.” Emily seriously considered Jane’s words. “The thing is, if I only call you ‘Mom’ in public and ‘Jane’ when we’re alone, I might forget and say ‘Jane’ when I should say ‘Mom.’ So, maybe I should call you ‘Mom’ all the time.”
Weyler walked to the car as Jane pulled Emily’s bags out of the car. “Ready?”
“Ready.” Jane turned to Emily. “We’ll talk about this later.” Emily walked around the Subaru, leaving Weyler and Jane alone. “This whole ‘mom’ thing is ridiculous,” Jane said confidentially to Weyler.
“It’s important you play the part so we don’t raise any suspicion. Treat it no differently than any of the undercover roles you’ve played. You played that hooker way back when you were on patrol and some cops still talk about how realistic you were.”
“A hooker and a mom. The only similarity is that it takes a big trick to pull them off successfully.” Jane lugged Emily’s luggage to the wagon and tossed it in the backseat. Emily sat in the front seat, her seat belt already fastened across her. She held open her Starlight Starbright vinyl case and looked longingly at several family photos.
Weyler held his hand out to Jane. “Good luck.” Jane eyed him briefly before shaking his hand. She had reached a point where she wasn’t sure of her own ability to judge another human being. Standing there with Weyler on that isolated dirt road, she wondered if she was shaking hands with her friend or her executioner. She looked over at Emily, still engrossed in her photographs. She surmised that from this moment on, it was the two of them against the world. Their ultimate survival would depend entirely on Jane’s ability to stay focused, resolute and constantly on guard. “What route are you taking?” Weyler asked.
Jane opened the driver’s side door. If Weyler was trying to garner more information so he could have somebody follow, Jane was damned if she was going to freely supply it. “Not sure. I was thinking I might go by way of Utah. Or maybe I’ll go to Kansas first. I want to keep that mystery alive.” Jane hoped that he would catch her drift that she was onto him. But all he did was turn away and smile.
“Just make sure you get there before five o’ clock,” Weyler said, walking to the sedan. “The real estate woman has to give you the house key. Her name is Kathy. Apparently, she’s real perky and friendly over the phone. I know the two of you will hit it off like sorority sisters.” Weyler’s last sentence dripped with sarcasm. He got into the sedan and pulled away in a cloud of dust and gravel.
Jane got into the Subaru and secured her seat belt. She looked around the dash and then up at the closed sunroof. “Pathetic,” she mumbled to herself.
“I’m glad you told me to keep these photos nearby.”
“Why’s that?”
Emily looked at the photos, brushing her finger across her dad’s face. “That was a good day.” Emily brightened a bit.
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