“My child,” he reminded her, and at that, she saw past the regret, past the sadness, to a wounded man who would do anything to have his way.
“I don’t think you understand how traumatized she’s been. When we found her, she was practically wild. She couldn’t talk or—”
“I’ve read the newspaper accounts and watched the tapes. Why do you think I’m talking to you? I know your sister saved Brittany. But she’s my daughter. You have to know what that means. I’ll get the best help for her. I promise you.”
“My sister is the best, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. If you love Alice—”
He stood up. “I should leave now. I thought if you knew how much I love my daughter, you’d be a cop. But you’re Julia’s sister, aren’t you? This is one more place I won’t find justice.”
Ellie knew she’d gone too far in questioning his love for his daughter. “You’ll ruin her,” she said quietly.
“I’m sorry you feel that way, Chief Barton. I truly am.” He walked over to the door, yanked it open. Then he paused, looked back. “I’ll see you—and Brittany—tomorrow.”
Ellie let out her breath in a sigh. His words—I thought you’d be a cop—stayed with her for a long, long time.
In all the tussle of facts and emotions and fear of the past few days, she’d been focused on Alice and Julia. She’d forgotten that she had a job to do. She was the chief of police. Justice was her job.
The night for Julia was endless. Finally, sometime around three o’clock, she gave up on sleep and went to work. For hours she sat at the kitchen table, in the glow from a single lamp, reading about George Azelle.
His life was a web of innuendo and speculation. Nothing had ever been proven.
Pushing the papers aside in frustration, she put on her jogging clothes and went outside, hoping the cool air would clear her head. She would need her wits about her today. She ran for miles, down one road, up another, until she was aching and out of breath. Finally, near dawn, she found herself back on her own driveway, coming home.
She went to her father’s favorite fishing spot and stood there, breathing hard, watching sunlight creep over the treetops. Though the world was inky dark and freezing cold, she could remember how it had felt to be here in the summer with him, how his big, callused hand had swallowed her smaller one and how protected she’d felt by that.
She heard footsteps behind her.
“Hey,” Ellie said, coming up beside her. “You’re up early.” She handed Julia a cup of coffee.
“Couldn’t sleep.” She took the mug, wrapped her fingers around the warm porcelain.
In silence, they stared across the silvered field to the black forest beyond. Cal’s house was a twinkling of golden lights in the early morning mist.
“He’s going to get custody, Jules.”
“I know.” Julia stared down at the river, watching the pink dawn light its surface.
“We need to prove him guilty.” She paused. “Or innocent.”
“You watch too much CSI. The state spent millions and they couldn’t prove it.”
“We have Alice.”
Julia felt a shiver run down her spine. Slowly she turned to face her sister. “She doesn’t remember anything. Or she can’t tell us, anyway.”
“Maybe she could lead us back to where she was kept, or held.”
Lead us back.
“You mean … My God, Ellie, can you imagine what that could do to her?”
“We might find evidence.”
“But, El … she could … snap. Go back into herself again. How could I live with that?”
“How traumatized is she going to be when Azelle takes her away? Will she ever understand that you didn’t abandon her?”
Julia closed her eyes. This was precisely the image that stalked her. If Alice felt abandoned again, she might simply fade back into silence and next time there might be no escape.
“I’ve thought it through from every angle. I was up all night. This is my job, Jules. I have to follow the facts. If we want to know the truth, this is our only hope.”
Julia crossed her arms, as if that simple movement could ward off this deepening chill. She walked away from her sister. Ellie didn’t understand what her proposal could mean. How fragile a child’s mind could be, how quickly things could turn tragic.
But Julia knew. She’d seen it happen in Silverwood.
Ellie came up behind her. “Jules?”
“I don’t think I could survive if Alice … cracked again.”
“All roads lead to Rome,” Ellie said quietly.
Julia turned to her. “What do you mean?”
“No matter what we do—or how we do it—Alice gets hurt. No child should grow up without a father, but losing you would be worse. You’ve got to trust my instincts on this. We need to know.”
To that, there was no answer. Ellie put her arm around Julia and pulled her close.
“Come on,” Ellie finally said, “let’s go make our girl breakfast.”
Max was getting out of the shower when he heard the doorbell ring. He toweled off, put on an old pair of Levi’s, and went downstairs. “I’m coming.”