Protector (54 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
“Let’s stop while we’re ahead!” Jane yelled above the din. Spotting Emily, she made a beeline toward her.
Emily glanced over to see Kathy closing in on the trio with Heather close at hand. Heather never took her eyes off Emily, shooting daggers of hatred toward her.
Kathy tapped Jane on the shoulder. “Well, my, my!” Kathy exclaimed, her plastic smile firmly embedded on her face. “That was quite the display of fancy footwork! Kathy turned to Emily. “And look at you! Little Miss Trophy Winner!” Kathy turned to Heather. “Heather, darling. Isn’t there something you’d like to say to Emily?”
The wheels of revenge spun in Heather’s head. Her pouty mouth twisted into a phony grin. “Congratulations! You’ve got moves I’ve never seen before. Maybe we can get together and you can show me what you know! I’ve got the new Tim McGraw CD.”
“Really?” Emily said, enthusiastically.
“Well, girls, you’ll have to make a play date with each other!” Kathy said.
“How about a sleepover?” Heather asked Emily, ignoring Kathy.
Emily could hardly contain herself. “Yeah! Sure!”
Jane bristled, dubious of Heather’s intentions. “We should discuss that—”
“Mom!” Emily whined to Jane. “She’s inviting me to a sleep over!”
Jane felt backed into a corner. “You know what happened the last time you went to a sleepover. You couldn’t sleep. I had to come get you—”
“That’s okay, Mrs. Calver!” Heather said, her evil mind running marathons. “We can have the sleep over at your house. That way, Emily won’t be afraid!”
“Sure!” Emily said, overwhelmed.
Jane knew something was fishy. As much as she wanted to grab Heather by the throat and choke the truth out of her, Jane could only fumble her way through a poor excuse. “Let’s table this discussion for now. We still want to catch a few rides and eat some popcorn. If you’ll excuse us . . .” Jane lit a cigarette the second they cleared the tent. The bright, colorful lights of the carnival and accompanying pipe organ music washed over the trio as they walked toward the center of the festivities.
“Isn’t that cool about the sleepover, Mom?” Emily said joyfully to Jane.
“We need to talk about that later,” Jane said, effectively ending the subject.
Emily noticed a woman perched atop a stage, swallowing fire and spitting it out into waves of red and blue flames. “Can I stand over there and watch her?”
“Sure.” Jane took Emily’s trophy and watched her skip toward the group of onlookers.
“Look at her,” Dan said with a smile. “She’s ten feet tall and bulletproof! Where’d you learn how to dance like that?”
“Oh, it’s just one of the better habits I picked up along the way.”
“Better habits?”
“Yeah, you know. Before life got real.”
Dan wasn’t sure he understood but nodded just the same. “The way you dance, you need a full-time partner. Someone to blow off steam on Saturday night?” Jane realized the hidden message Dan was sending. But she figured if she ignored his comments, he’d give up his pursuit. She was wrong. “What you gotta do,” Dan continued, “is find somebody who’s got a honest heart and who would never beat on you and Patty. I don’t mean to pry but I know that when you’re used to gettin’ beat on, you tend to pick those kind of men. You may not even know you’re doin’ it. But I bet a dime to a donut that that’s the kind of fellow you lean toward. I know you probably think I’m totally out of line sayin’ that but—”
“No, actually,” Jane paused, thinking about what Dan said. “you’re right.” Her mind briefly focused on Chris and his verbally abusive tactics, not to mention his fondness for rough sex. “You’re absolutely right.”
“It’s understandable if you couldn’t see that. It’d be like if you were an alcoholic. You can’t tell a drunk they’re a drunk. They just tell you to ‘screw off ’ and then they take another drink.”
Jane shook her head, chuckling at the irony. “I feel like I’m in therapy.”
“I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. It’s just that . . .” Dan struggled with his words. “I have some personal experience in what you’ve been through. My sister, Becky, married a guy who looked like Prince Charming on the outside but inside he was more like that Marquis de Sade. I can’t tell you how many times I had to go over to her house and pull him off of her.”
“Why didn’t you guys call the cops?”
“The cops,” Dan snickered. “What the hell good are cops? You should know! You’ve been dealin’ with the cops regardin’ your husband and you’re still on the run! Cops just write a report and walk away.”
“Not all cops do that, Dan.”
“Well, the ones I knew sure did. And maybe they’re right. In the end, it’s up to you and you alone to get away and not make that same mistake again.”
“What happened to your sister?”
“She stuck with him until she got pregnant again. She was fourteen weeks along when he got worked up because there was a dirty cup in the sink. He started kicking her in her stomach—”
“That son-of-a-bitch—”
“He damn near killed her. If I hadn’t gotten over there, she’d probably would have bled to death.” “What happened to her baby?”
“She lost it and she probably won’t be havin’ any more kids.”
Jane couldn’t help but feel empathy for Dan’s sister. “What did she do?”
“She got smart. She got the guts to grab the kids, file for divorce, get a restrainin’ order and move to another state. She also got some therapy. It helped straighten out all those backward thoughts in her head about what love really is. After about two years, she wrote her ex one of those letters that you don’t mail. You know, they’re just meant for yourself so you can get the words on paper and get them out of your head.”
“I bet that was one letter that would make a sailor blush!”
“No, not at all. She read it to me over the phone. She talked about how she was finally aware that she was responsible for allowing him to treat her the way he did. How she should have gotten help or gotten out of the relationship early on to save herself so much grief. At the end, she said she forgave him for all he’d done to her. Then she burned the letter and she was finally free.”
“Mom?” Emily called out.
Jane didn’t respond. Dan’s words were still filtering through her head.
Dan looked over at Emily. “Hey, your kid’s callin’ you.”
Jane turned to find Emily. “What is it?”
“Can I get a bag of popcorn?”
“Yeah, sure!” Jane hollered as Emily stood in the concession line.
“You got family you can talk to?” Dan asked.
Jane really thought about his question and then realized the answer. “No.”
“No mother? No dad?”
“My mother died when I was ten. And my dad,” Jane turned away, looking off into the flickering carnival lights. “He just recently died.” The words sounded new, as if they did not belong to her yet. “So, I guess I’m an orphan.” The appreciation of her new reality struck an emotional chord. Although Jane tried to fight it, she felt her guard coming down.
“Any brothers and sisters?”
“A brother,” Jane replied. She looked over at Emily, who was five people away from the front of the line. “His name is Mike. But, he’s not exactly available.”
“Why not?”
“He’s got this new girlfriend. Lisa.” Jane said, sounding like a catty female.
“You don’t sound as if you like her.”
“She’s . . .”
“She’s what?”
“She’s . . .” Jane searched for the end of the sentence and kept coming up short. “She’s there!” Jane felt the need to explain. “My brother’s track record with women is lousy. Half of them look like they crawled out of the sewer. The other half can’t put three intelligent words together.”
“Which half does Lisa fall into?”
“Not sure. I’ve only met her once and talked to her on the phone—”
“You must have an idea. I was able to pin my ex brother-in-law from the get-go.”
“Well, okay, so far she hasn’t fallen into either category. But, you know, she’s this clean-cut, Martha Stewart looking, reformed drunk who’s dragging my brother to weekly AA meetings. She’s got a brother who’s a PI and apparently, he used to be some bounty hunter. Big deal! She makes some kind of jewelry for a living and sells it at outdoor art shows.” Jane rolled her eyes.
“Maybe I’m missin’ somethin’ here. So far, none of that sounds bad!”
“Oh, come on, Dan!” Jane said in a cajoling manner. “AA! Jewelry?”
“Unless she’s sellin’ crack at AA meetings and makin’ her jewelry out of stolen diamonds, this girl ain’t bad! I think you need to dig a little deeper and figure out what’s really holdin’ you back from likin’ her.”
“What in the hell does that mean?” Jane was sitting tall on her high horse.
“Look, let’s just drop the subject, okay?” Jane was not used to losing arguments. However, she wasn’t going to start a scene and be the lead topic of conversation at The Harvest Café. Dan moved closer.
“You know, I meant it when I said that you could call me day or night if there was a problem.”
Jane’s eyes were pinned on Emily. “Yeah. I know.”
“If you need to talk or somethin’ . . .” Jane turned back to Dan. He leaned closer and was just about to kiss her lips when she backed off. “I’m sorry!” he said, nervously. “I don’t know what I was thinkin’.”
“No, it’s not you. Honestly. Take my word for it, you don’t want me.”
“Why would you say something like that about yourself?”
“Because it’s true.” Jane painfully searched for the right words. “You don’t know anything about me, no matter how much you think you do.”
Dan lovingly touched Jane’s hand. “That’s what conversation is for.”
Jane let out a deep sigh. “Dan, you’re a good person. I wish I could tell you the truth. But I can’t. You just have to accept it. Okay?”
Dan patted Jane’s hand. “Will I get to know the truth one day?”
“Maybe.”
Dan lifted her hand and gently kissed it. “Maybe is good enough for now.”
They crossed over to Emily who was finally at the front of the line and getting change for her popcorn. Dan leaned down, wrapping his arm around Emily’s shoulder. “How’d you feel about a ride on the Whirlwind Roller Coaster?”
“I’d love to!”
Emily looked at her greasy hands from the popcorn. “Wait up! I’m gonna get a napkin!” She darted off toward the popcorn stand and started to pull a napkin from the dispenser when she was drawn into the shiny, reflective surface. The carnival sounds rapidly melted into the background and were replaced by the pounding beat of her heart. Staring into the dispenser’s mirrored side, she saw the reflection of a male figure. Her heart beat faster. She turned toward the figure. Standing about ten feet away was a man with his back to her. A woman stood across from him. He wore a black leather coat, black jeans and dark cowboy boots. Emily’s eyes moved down his body to his right hand. In it, there looked to be a shiny, sharp object concealed between his sleeve and the palm of his hand. For a millisecond, another image flashed across her view. That image was a gloved hand, holding a knife dripping with blood. As quickly as the knife appeared, the image disappeared. She jerked backward in shock.
The woman who was with the man leaned toward him and said, “Isn’t that thing hot against your face? Why don’t you take it off?”
Emily looked up at the back of the man’s head, just in time to see him turn to the left. A rubber mask in the shape of a pig’s head concealed his face. He brought his left hand up to his face and began to peel off the mask. At that point, a rush of flickering images alternated in front of Emily. As he pulled off the pig’s mask, a new image of another male dominated Emily’s vision. That man pulled off a dark nylon face mask. Quickly, the pig mask flashed into view. A second later, the nylon face mask burst in front of it. The images rotated at rapid speed until finally the man with the nylon mask ripped it off just as Emily turned away, covering her eyes. “No!” she shrieked, stumbling backward into the crowd.
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