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Zane takes it with a shaking hand but manages to drink most of it without spilling it all over himself. “Fuck.” He glances at the officer, eyes widening. “Dammit, sorry.”
Megan snorts.
“It’s okay.” The officer draws a somewhat shaky breath and sits behind the table once more. “Let’s get this done so you can go.” She types a few words. “What was the name of the abuser?”
“Kenneth Shaw.”
“Where did the crime take place? Was it a one-time event? Was any other person involved? Did any other person know about it then?”
“Sometimes there was this other guy. Emerett. Can’t remember more about him.”
She asks him more questions. He seems calmer now as he replies. A little too calm, in fact, as if he’s distancing himself from the interrogation, from the memories. From the fact it was him who went through the abuse he describes.
My teeth are clenched so hard my jaw hurts. Megan strokes my arm, and it’s all I can do not to grab her and get out of here.
This isn’t about me, I remind myself. It’s about Zane. So if he can take it, then I’ll take it and shut the hell up.
“All right.” The officer clicks a few keys on her laptop and sighs. “I have taken down your statement. We will go talk to the man, see if we find out anything more.” She looks straight at Zane. “I won’t lie to you. It doesn’t look good. Regardless of whether I believe you or not, of whether you’re right or not, we need evidence to accuse a man of a crime, and I’ve got nothing that links directly back to him. No proof he abused you, no proof the scars on your back came from him. Twelve years is a long time. Most law enforcement agencies will suspend a case if there are no viable leads, and in this case…”
“But you can search his house, right?” Megan leans forward, pinning the officer with her dark gaze. “Maybe you will find something.”
“Not sure we can get a search warrant for this. We can’t search a house based on childhood memories. We need some compelling evidence. I am sorry.” She gives Zane a sympathetic look, while he gazes back blankly. “What I can do meanwhile is refer you to one of my colleagues who works with rape victims. He can help—”
Zane pushes to his feet, turns around and opens the door. I jump after him as he strides out, but Dakota is there before me, taking his arm, talking to him.
I turn back toward the officer. “That’s it? You’re gonna just ignore this? You have no fucking clue what it took for him to come here, answer all your questions. It’s a fucking circus!”
And okay, I’m vaguely aware that I’ve been angry with the police all along, that it’s not only this case that has me yelling at the poor nice officer but my own past as well. The failure of the law to protect me and to give me answers and justice back when I needed it.
I know all that, all right?
Doesn’t help one fucking bit with how I’m feeling right now.
***
Dakota is sitting with Zane on a bench right outside the small office. I’ve checked on them, and I’m giving them some space until he feels ready to talk to the officer again or walk out.
Up to him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s done more than enough by making this report in the mental state he’s in.
I close the door and turn toward the officer.
“Excuse me, ma’am.” I force my anger down so that I can speak without yelling. Megan’s presence at my side helps. “This is all very good. But that man, that criminal is out there. You can’t let him walk, not after knowing what he did to a kid, or more kids, for that matter.”
“More kids?” She shoots me a sharp glance. “Mr. Madden didn’t mention that.”
“Well, let me tell you about it. Kenneth Shaw was his foster father, and Zane wasn’t the only kid in that house. If he did this to Zane, what do you think happened to those other kids, huh? ”
The officer pales and sits down, her hands writhing in her lap. “Oh my God. He was the foster father? I need to add this information to the report. I will… I will check with social services, see if any of the kids he fostered have come forth with similar accusations. If they have, we could build a case—”
“You’re not getting me.” I put my hands on the table, stare down at her. “The piece of shit who did this to Zane, and possibly to more kids, is out there. He’s in this city, right now. Zane has seen him a couple of times, and we found him. We know where he lives and what car he drives.”
“Dear God.” The woman looks from me to Megan, her face reddening like she’s about to have a heart attack. “You looked for him on your own? Has he seen you? Have you talked to him? Has he recognized Mr. Madden?”
“That’s a good question.” I shoot Megan a worried glance. “We don’t know if he recognized Zane.”
The last time Zane said the guy ran after him, but he was confused, and in full flashback mode, so…
“You shouldn’t have done this,” the officer says.
