Free The Devil's Wire by Deborah Rogers Page A

that what he's done is unacceptable."
    "A thug? You're kidding?"
    "I wouldn't joke about a thing like that."
    "We don't do things that way in this country. We have the rule of law."
    Lenise barks out a laugh. "Have you watched Dateline , lately?"
    "I'm a mother, Lenise, not a vigilante and I'm hardly going to risk jail and leave McKenzie to fend for herself."
    Lenise throws up her hands. "Just trying to help."
    "It's a ridiculous suggestion and I don't need your help. This is a private family matter."
    Jennifer gets to her feet.
    "I see," says Lenise.
    "Which has, quite frankly, got nothing to do with you."
    "You would still be in the dark if it wasn't for me."
    "Listen to me – you have no idea what I'm going through or how difficult this is. It's easy for you to sit on the sidelines like you're watching some episode of Beverly Hills Housewives but this is my awful, shitty life. Do you get that? My life is ruined and so is my daughter's so why don't you just worry about your own problems – it certainly looks like you've got enough of them."
    Lenise smiles.
    "So you do have a back bone."
    Jennifer stares at her.
    "You're a real piece of work," she says, grabbing her bag. "Goodbye."
    "Don't coming running to me when this all goes pear-shaped," calls Lenise.
    As if she would, thinks Jennifer.

 
    14
    Officer Petra Rosen could have been no more than thirty but wore the hard, world-weary look of someone who'd seen things she would rather forget. In the seat opposite, Jennifer watches the officer click open a file and take out a checklist and place it in front of her.
    "Have you been the victim of a domestic assault?"
    "No."
    "Has your husband ever struck you?"
    "No."
    "Has your husband ever called you names and made you feel worthless?"
    "Not really."
    "Has your husband ever used sexual violence to intimidate you?"
    "No."
    "Does your husband own a firearm?"
    "No."
    "Okay."
    Officer Rosen places the final tick in the box and returns the form to the file and pulls the legal pad toward her.
    "Go ahead," she says, pen poised. "Tell me what happened."
    Jennifer's yanks a stray hair from her mouth and realizes she's trembling.
    "I don't know where to begin," she says.
    Officer Rosen puts down the pen and reaches for a typed statement from the file.
    "Let's start with your husband's version then."
    Jennifer sits back in her chair. "He's been here?"
    "I spoke to him this morning."
    "I don't believe this," says Jennifer.
    "He said allegations had been made. Molestation of a minor, your daughter." Officer Rosen lifts her eyes from the document. "He says he didn't do it."
    "Well, I'm not making it up," says Jennifer.
    "Divorce can be ugly."
    "Don't let him fool you."
    "I'm not stupid, Mrs. Blake. I didn't say I believed him." She pauses. "What does your daughter say happened?"
    "McKenzie won't talk about it, but I know he did it, the neighbor saw him."
    "And will this neighbor give a statement, testify if it ever gets that far?"
    Jennifer hesitates, places her hands palm down on the table.
    "I don't know."
    "I need evidence, Mrs. Blake – dates, times, places, specifics of the actual acts. DNA from inside the child's body, on her underwear."
    "I don't have any of those things."
    "Then it's only your word against his."
    "You can't just let him get away with it."
    "Want me to call child services to come and talk with your daughter? They might take her."
    "To foster care?"
    Officer Rosen nods. "Or a group home, until the matter gets resolved and who knows how long that will be."
    "No."
    Officer Rosen looks down at the statement.
    "There's something else," she says.
    "What?"
    "He says there was an incident when your daughter was less than a year old."
    Jennifer can't believe he would stoop so low.
    "You left the baby alone in the bath – " continues Officer Rosen.
    "It was a moment's inattention. I was tired, not thinking straight, that's all."
    "And as a result treated in a psychiatric unit for post-partum depression."
    "So now I'm a