She hadn’t. But she knew she wouldn’t hesitate to do so if she had to. As she prepared to go on shift Thursday afternoon, Wayne stopped by and told her the captain wanted to see her.
Following him to the interrogation room where the three of them had met before she’d gone under, she felt like she’d come full circle.
Everything had changed in the past five weeks.
And nothing had.
“Sit down, Chantel,” Captain Reagan said. Wayne was already doing so. The captain, in a suit and tie, like Wayne, sat last.
“I wanted to give you an update on David Smyth Jr.,” the captain began.
She nodded and heard how, after speaking with his counsel, he’d agreed to plead guilty to fourteen counts of rape—with a mandatory prison sentence of not less than twenty-five years, and could be as much as seventy-five, depending on further investigation and a decision from the court.
“Wow,” she said, starting to smile. “So no one will have to testify?”
“That’s correct.”
“But...” Something else was going on. She saw the look Wayne exchanged with the captain, and her stomach dropped.
“In exchange for that, for the fact that he’s going away—to a minimum security prison for people of money, and to do so without a trial that would necessitate victim testimony and could cost the state up to a million dollars or more—this stays out of the press. Victims aren’t named. His wife and kids and family are protected from the scandal...”
Right. Fine. Get to it. The guys knew she didn’t give a hoot about what kind of prison he was in as long as he was in it. And that she also would be fine with this happening in a way that ensured his family—also innocent victims of his crimes—would not have to suffer.
“And they want you and Wayne to let the rest of this drop.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’re aware that you know of the deal made between the Smyths, and the Fairbankses, involving certain representatives of this department.”
Wayne gave her one glance. A pleading look.
And she understood.
“You want me to ignore the fact that Paul Reynolds was party to letting a rapist live among his own friends? That he let the man continue to harass and brutalize possible wives and daughters of his friends?”
“He didn’t know, Chantel,” Wayne said. “I mean, he knew about the situation with Julie. He’d been told it had started out mutual, and then when Julie didn’t like it, it went bad. That, at the most, it was excessive force on a date. The commissioner wasn’t even present when they went to Julie and made the offer to let it drop and save her reputation. He was presented with a done deal. And saw no reason to ruin a promising young man’s career, to drag a young girl’s reputation through the mud, because of a date gone bad. He had no idea there were others.”
“There were medical records,” Chantel said. “Details that make me sick to my stomach. You want me to believe that he didn’t know about them? They just disappeared all by themselves?”
“He says he didn’t know,” Captain Reagan said, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it.
“They’re willing to offer you any job you want in the department, Chantel. You’ve more than proven yourself. You’d already passed the investigators’ exam before you transferred up here. You name your job, and it’s yours.”
For three days she’d been trying to push away the idea of moving to a desk job. She was good at investigating. And maybe if Julie’s case had come across her desk, she’d have been able to see to it that her friend received justice. One day back on the job and she already knew that she wasn’t going to be able to be in a relationship with Colin and work the street.
Not just because he was shutting her out, but because he hadn’t called.
She couldn’t work the job because all day yesterday she’d been aware of that fact that, if she got hurt, it would hurt Colin. As much or more than Max had been hurt when Jill had died.
Maybe even as much as he’d hurt when Meri had been missing.
She couldn’t do that to him.
The truth was, she wasn’t even sure she wanted to do it to herself. She was almost thirty-three years old. She’d lived a lot of her life—most of it—with only a best friend for family.
For the first time since she was fourteen, she was beginning to feel like part of a family. She didn’t want to risk losing that by dying on the job.
She just might have too much to live for.
“And David Smyth Sr...he gets off even though he helped his son get away with rape?”
“He didn’t know, either, Chantel. He’d been told exactly what the commissioner was told. Other than that, he was present during the negotiations with Julie and Colin.”