He didn’t have a lisp, she realized; it was an accent.
Taured nodded at the doctor, who left the room to get his daughter. After Sara had risked everything to help her, she would be forced to take a side and the side she’d choose was obvious to Summer: blood ran thicker than water, as her dad used to say.
“Lorraine was my high school best friend,” Taured said. “She came to me for help when her husband died. Summer was only yea high...”
She looked over to see Taured measuring her adolescent self below his open palm. “She was nothing but knees and elbows and now she’s our star softball player.” He winked in her direction, like they were sharing an inside joke. Cold pinched down her spine. She was so sure she was going to be sick she swayed on her feet, lifting her palm to her mouth. She knew what he was doing and it was too late. While the men were listening to Taured, the woman’s gaze rested on Summer’s face, watching. She asked for help with her eyes and hoped that her urgency was understood. The more words she said, the deeper she fell into his trap. When Browley returned with Sara, her head was down. Summer recognized her friend’s fear in the curve of her shoulders and felt an uncertainty that made her want to run from the room. This was wrong. She was causing problems for people she cared about.
“Sara, I’m Mr. Nava. We’re going to ask you a few questions.”
Her nod was vigorous, but it wasn’t enough, and he asked her to look at him. Sara did so slowly, her eyes darting to Summer and back to Mr. Nava.
“Summer says that her mother’s death wasn’t an accident. Is that true?”
“Summer thinks it’s true,” Sara said quickly. She cast another wayward glance at Summer. “Her mom left her here a lot. She wasn’t around, you know?”
The men in the room nodded; a lot of bobbleheads, Summer thought bitterly. O’Connor didn’t bob her head. She kept looking at Summer while Sara lied.
“So what you’re saying is that Summer is a very confused young lady?”
Sara nodded. Summer looked at her feet. The churning inside of her was becoming unbearable, feelings expanding in her chest like a bubble of gas.
Taured watched, his expression completely content with how things were working out for him.
“The truth is, Summer,” he said, looking at her, “your mother wanted you to stay here with us. She named me as your legal guardian in her last will and testament.” He looked at the officers. “I will, of course, produce Lorraine’s will for you. Lorraine didn’t want Summer being raised near her parents—she expressed to me that she wanted to protect her daughter from them.” He lowered his voice on the last part, letting the weight of insinuation sink in.
“He’s a liar!” Her yell made Sara flinch. “My mother would never leave me alone in a room with this pig, never mind leaving me with him for good.”
The silence that followed lasted only a few thickly awkward seconds, but Summer could see their faces change.
“That’s quite enough, young lady.” The jowly man pushed himself forward in his seat and then hoisted himself to standing position. “You need to show some respect for yourself and everyone else in this room.”
Was this happening? Her mother was dead, murdered at the hands of this madman, and the police were telling her to watch her manners?
“You’re not listening to me,” she tried again. “They locked my mother in a room—both of us—and tortured her. They made it look like she overdosed, but they gave her those drugs against her will.”
“Oh, my,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “You, as well? They locked both of you up and tortured you?”
Summer’s mouth hung open. Taured sat behind his desk, a pained smile on his face.
“With all due respect, sir, the girl has just lost her mother.”
She couldn’t believe he’d defended her. Looking between them in confusion, she finally turned to Sara, her face screwed up, and she started crying before she could get the words out.
“Sara...tell...them...please.” The tears were flowing freely now, dripping off her chin. She tried to rub them away, but it was too much. Summer clasped her arms around herself, rocking on her heels. She wanted her mother, but there was no one here who would protect her, no one left in the world. A small cry escaped her throat.
“That’s enough.” Dr. Browley stepped behind Sara, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Clearly this girl is very upset and I’m not letting my daughter get dragged into this mess.”
It all happened so quickly. She locked eyes with Sara over her shoulder, seeing the remorse that echoed her own, and then her friend was gone. Summer was alone with them, but she wasn’t hearing anymore.
Her panic was so great that she reached out for something to steady herself and missed, stumbling to the side.
“Whoa, whoa.” O’Connor was coming toward her as she swayed. The room was dancing around her in odd jerks.
Summer saw the officer’s face, pale and oval like an egg, swim in front of her. But it was Taured’s hands she felt on her body, grabbing her by the shoulders and leading her to a chair. She wanted to rip herself away from him, but she was afraid and disoriented. With his hands gripped around her upper arms, he lowered her into the chair closest to his desk, and asked Sara’s dad to get her a glass of water.
Then he knelt on one knee in front of her. Summer froze. There were streaks of gray in his beard and on his temples. She’d never been this close to him—had she?—aside from the night he’d knocked on her door, and she had the same thought then as she did now: behind his eyes, behind the amber of his iris, and the large pupils, was something insatiably hungry, and it wasn’t human.
She held the words she wanted to say behind her gritted teeth.
Please let me go.
“I’m... I—” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
They were speaking around her, to her sometimes, but she couldn’t focus on what they were saying.
“Social services will place her in a foster home until then.” Summer looked up to see the female officer speaking to Taured. He was standing next to her chair now, with his hand on her shoulder. She felt the shift in his body, the tightening of his fingers by just a fraction.
“With all due respect, Officer, this is her home. The child’s mother has just died. To remove her from everything she knows would add to her trauma. Here are the documents.” As if on cue, Taured produced a cream-colored envelope that he handed to the detective. “We have been both forthcoming and compliant in regard to law enforcement and Lorraine’s body, but as you can see, I am the legal guardian of her daughter and you have no right nor reason to remove her from her home.”
They were speaking again, the men. Summer sought the female officer’s eyes and found them drilling into her. She looked to see if the men noticed, but together, they were examining the papers. Gingerly, she met the woman’s eyes, a strange sensation rising behind her ribs. She was younger than Summer’s mother, maybe in her twenties. She was very blonde and very tan, her hair pulled back severely and knotted at the nape of her neck. She was narrowing her eyes, moving them from Summer to the floor and back again. And then, with a little jerk of her head, O’Connor squeezed her own eyes closed. Summer understood. She stood up rather suddenly and, from the corner of her eye, saw all four men pivot their heads to look at her. Then she let her whole body go limp. It didn’t even hurt when she hit the ground.
She heard the sound of their feet, the clamor of voices, and then the female officer sternly say, “Step back, all of you, give her some room. Byron, call an ambulance.”
“No need,” Taured said. “Tom here is a doctor.”
Summer lay limp and still, breathing in tiny gasps.
“I want her taken to a hospital to be checked out,” O’Connor said. A second later, Summer heard her speaking, and then the crackling sound of a radio saying an ambulance was on its way.