Chapter 9 – Grant #2
“Hmm.” She twists her lips as if she’s getting antsy, and I know I need to get to the point. It’s only a matter of time before Mr. Davis gets smart and tells me I can’t speak to Keely without a parent present.
“If you weren’t safe, you could tell me, you know?
Like if your mommy and daddy got into a fight, and it scared you, it’s okay to tell a police officer like me.
They’re not going to get into trouble for it, but it would help me understand why you seem so upset.
” Her eyes widen. “Were they fighting earlier?”
“Mm-hmm.” There is so much shame in her little expression that this hard-ass wants to pull her into my arms and give her a hug.
“When you get in trouble, does your mommy or daddy ever spank you?”
“Only when I’ve been really bad,” she whispers, eyes downcast to watch her fingers, which are still twisting in the hem of her shirt.
“What’s really bad?” Her eyes flash up, and then she shakes her head and bends over to pick up one of the painted rocks. She turns it over in her hand as she finds the words her innocent mind wants to use.
“When I come out of my room when they’re fighting. Or if I spill my milk.” She shrugs as if it’s not a big deal but everything else about her posture says it is. “Or if I tell anyone about how they fight.”
Fucking Christ.
“Well, I won’t tell them that you told me anything if you don’t. Okay?”
She stares at me with tears welling in her big blue eyes as she tries to figure out whether to trust what I’m saying or not. I slowly nod to reinforce what I’ve said. “Okay,” she finally whispers, her eyes looking back to where her mom is speaking to Nate with her dad lingering close by.
“Does your mom ever get in trouble with your dad?” I ask, clocking her quick intake of breath.
“My mom doesn’t spill her glass of milk.” She breaks our eye contact and looks at the rock in her hand to avoid telling me more.
“Okay. Maybe she gets in trouble for other things though, huh?”
She nods subtly and then lifts her chin in pride as if she refuses to admit her mom is weak. She has no clue that her mom putting up with this might be a sign of weakness, but it is also a sign of strength to protect her daughter from the brunt of her dad’s anger.
“Did anything happen earlier that you want to tell me about?”
“Keely? Tell the officer goodbye now,” her mom says from the doorway where she stands with Davis’s arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders.
Keely nods, her little blonde curls bouncing with the movement before she looks back to me. “I have to go now.”
It’s my turn to nod, even though every part of me is screaming to pick her up and put her in the squad car with me until I know for sure she’s safe. “Can I give you something?” I ask.
She glances at them, torn between loyalty to her parents and the safety of a police officer, before looking back to me. “’kay.”
I reach into my pocket and produce a sticker badge. It’s left over from the elementary school appearance Nate and I made earlier today, and it’s perfect. “I want to give this to you and make you a deputy officer.”
“You do?” Her eyes widen and voice escalates with awe. Her innocence and willingness to trust is so palpable it breaks my heart.
“I sure do.” I hand it to her. “I don’t give these out to just anyone, either. It’s an important job I know you can handle. This gives you the authority to call the police, dial 9-1-1 on the phone, if you ever get scared or are hurt or need help.”
She stares at the sticker for a few seconds and speaks without thinking. “What about if my mommy needs help?” Her voice is back to being so quiet that I almost don’t hear it.
“Definitely use it for that, too.”
I hold my hand out for her to shake it. She giggles for the first time, and although I welcome the sound, I loathe it at the same time. Right now, I’m going to have to let her walk back into that house without knowing anything more about what happened other than the neighbor heard yelling.
“Nice to meet you, Deputy Keely.”
She smiles again as she shakes my hand before turning on her heel and walking back to her mother, who ushers her inside and shuts the door on us without a second glance back.
Nate turns to meet my eyes and shakes his head as we walk down the front walkway.
“She walked into the wall,” he murmurs with resignation, and I know he’s referring to a bruise the mom must have had.
“She wouldn’t give you anything else?”
“Nah,” he says as he stares at me over the cruiser’s roof. “She wouldn’t step away from him so I could ask more. What about the girl?”
I know he isn’t using names to keep the emotional distance, but for some reason, I can’t do that this time.
“Keely?” I reassert. “I didn’t see any bruises, nor did she say she’d been hit.
Daddy spanks her for telling anyone about mommy and daddy fighting, though.
Or for spilling her milk. And probably just for breathing. ”
I grit my teeth as I rein in my anger. I can’t stay detached. Not from a little girl with big blue eyes and soft blonde curls, who has most likely seen more than her fair share of adult things.
“Fucking prick.”
“If only we could get Mrs. Davis alone to talk,” I think aloud.
“We can try another time. Stop by for a well check when he’s gone. Maybe she’ll talk then.”
“Perhaps.” It isn’t good enough. “He better not lay a hand on that little girl.”
Nate eyes me for a second before nodding and sliding into the car to continue our day.