Silent Witness. Diane Burke

continued to stare at him, her arms wrapped tightly and protectively around her body.

      “Think about it, Liz. If he did witness the murder, it might trigger memories for him. You might find out something useful for your investigation.” Adam caught her gaze with his. “Don’t you want a professional with him when he begins to deal with his loss? I intend to be there with Jeremy. I will help him through it, I promise.”

      “You’re moving into the house, too?”

      “Yes, of course. Someone has to be with the boy until I feel we can safely transition him to a more permanent placement.”

      He could tell from the expression on her face that she was carefully weighing his words.

      “Trust me.”

      Her eyes flashed at his words. “Trust you? Like my family trusted your father with my brother, Luke? Like I trusted you before…before…”

      If she had slapped him with every ounce of strength in her body, it couldn’t have hurt more. He knew she wasn’t trying to hurt him. She was reacting to her own pain and not thinking. The words probably popped out of her mouth before she even knew what she was going to say.

      But words can be as lethal as weapons and once spoken can’t be erased.

      Adam put up his own protective shield. He hardened his body language and the tone of his voice.

      “Sheriff, it is my professional opinion that Jeremy Henderson needs to be in familiar surroundings in order to be able to process through his trauma. It will also give state officials time to work on a more permanent living situation for him, with people trained in dealing with his special needs. I am hoping not to get any opposition from the sheriff’s department on this move. However, I am perfectly willing to get a court order if you insist.”

      “I think you are making a terrible mistake, Adam.” Her eyes pleaded for understanding.

      “Jeremy isn’t Luke.”

      “You think I don’t know that? The situation is totally different.”

      “That’s right, Liz, it is.” He waited, giving her the time she needed to think things through and come to grips with the situation.

      She searched his eyes for some sort of reassurance. “You’re moving into the house with him? You promise that he will never have to go through anything alone.”

      “Yes.”

      “Fine. Let me make a call. If Davenport is finished, you can have the cleaning crew go into the house today.” She took a step toward him, her body taut, her posture threatening. “I don’t want there to be anything, not one tiny thing, left behind to remind that child of the violence that happened in that house.”

      “Consider it done.”

      Adam could read her expression like an open book. She was struggling with the question of whether or not she could trust him.

      They stood in the hospital hallway simply staring at each other. The minutes ticked away while her heart battled with her head. He knew from the steely glint in her eyes when she’d reached her decision—and somehow he didn’t think he was going to like it.

      “I’ll meet you tomorrow at 4:00 p.m.”

      “That’s not necessary, Liz. I can drive the boy myself.”

      “If you don’t want to be forced into court for a ruling on this, then you’ll do things my way.” Her body language told him that her terms were nonnegotiable. “I am going to make sure nothing happens to that boy physically or emotionally. I will not let you repeat the damage your father did to Luke or to my family. I will be driving you to the house. Is that understood?”

      Adam stifled the desire to lash back in anger and simply nodded his agreement to her terms.

      Liz started to walk away and then turned. “By the way, if you are moving into the house with the boy, then be prepared, Freud, because I am, too.”

      * * *

      He turned off his headlights, eased into a parking spot across the street from the hospital and cut the engine. He glanced at his wristwatch in the glow from the streetlamp. Ten minutes past midnight. He looked up and down the deserted street. No one around. He was safe for the moment.

      He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. But he couldn’t stay away.

      He stared into the darkness and wondered which lit window in the multifloored hospital belonged to the boy.

      How could this happen? How could there have been a child in the house and he hadn’t known? He hadn’t seen any toys. There’d been a room filled with odd things like a funny-looking hammock swing hanging from the ceiling, some mats on the floor and a computer in the corner. He’d thought it was some kind of weird exercise room. It never dawned on him that there might be a kid in the house.

      Passing headlights illuminated the inside of his vehicle. He ducked down and his heart surged with a rush of adrenaline. The risk he might get caught was like a natural high. Who needed drugs?

      He did. Too often and too many.

      He cursed himself for his stupidity. He shouldn’t be in this situation. He should have taken care of everything at once.

      Why hadn’t he seen the kid?

      He slammed his hand on the steering wheel.

      Then a glimmer of hope filled his mind. If he hadn’t seen the kid, maybe the kid hadn’t seen him, either.

      It was all over the news that there was something wrong with the kid. He had problems talking or something. So he probably couldn’t tell anyone about him, anyway.

      But could he afford to take the chance?

      No.

      He had no choice. He had to find out what that boy had seen before the boy had a chance to tell anyone else.

      THREE

      “You can stare at them photos till the cows come home and you’re not gonna see anything you ain’t seen before.”

      Liz startled at the sound of Tom Miller’s voice but tried not to show it as she turned to face her deputy. She’d been standing in front of the white erase board, examining every inch of the crime scene photos.

      “There has to be something here,” Liz said. “Something that can steer our investigation in the right direction. What are we missing?”

      “Wish I knew. Those pictures are making me plumb cross-eyed.” Deputy Miller handed her a foam cup filled to the rim. The rich, robust aroma, unlike the mudlike brew they normally had available, woke up her senses. When he passed her a Boston cream doughnut, too, she almost drooled.

      “You know me too well, Tom.” She smiled, bit into the doughnut and licked the oozing, sweet cream off her lower lip. “This is just what I needed,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

      “There’s a couple dozen more on the table in the break room. And a decent pot of coffee for a change. Thought the men could use the boost before our meeting this morning.”

      He stood beside her and stared at the board. “I couldn’t sleep last night so I came in early. I stared at the board for hours just like you been doing. Not one of them pictures talked to me. Leastwise, nothing I wanted to hear.”

      He shook his head and raised his hat brim then let it settle back down. “Thank God your daddy isn’t alive. It would break his heart to see a family destroyed like this in his town.” He glanced at her and a red flush crept up his neck. “No offense, Sheriff. I’m not sayin’ that you’re not just as torn up about all this.”

      “I understand, Tom. I miss him, too.” Liz placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this guy.”

      Voices sounded behind them as the investigation