Page 50 of The Sister's Curse
Detwiler and I began questioning the participants, who were all members of the congregation. To a man (and I noticed that they were all men), they said that Rebecca was being rebaptized with holy water to cleanse her soul after some disobedience. When the nature of the disobedience was exposed, it turned out that the offense was the high crime of sneaking out to go swimming when the air-conditioning at her house went out.
My colleague Kara, from CPS, called from the hospital as I was pacing the parking lot. “She’s not talking. She’s too afraid.”
“You can’t bring her back to her parents,” I said.
“I know. I can stall for maybe seventy-two hours. But I’m going to need something more after that, or she’s going to have to be returned to her parents.”
My grip on the phone was white. “I’ll get back to you.”
I turned to the doors as the parishioners were walking out. Not in handcuffs.
I wheeled to Monica. “I’m going to charge them with attempted murder—”
“I know. I know.” Her jaw had hardened. “I read them their rights. But then I got told to stand down.”
“By who—?”
I followed her gaze as it landed over my shoulder.
At the end of the parking lot sat the sheriff in an unmarked car. He was smoking a cigarette, watching the cars leave.
I took two steps toward the unmarked car, but Monica caught my elbow.
“Don’t. I already tried.”
“But that girl—”
“We gotta find some other way to help her.” Her expression smoldered in wrath. “Nobody who does that to little girls gets to walk free in Bayern County.”
The sheriff beckoned to me with the lit end of his cigarette.
I stalked toward his car.
“Sheriff, those people—”
He made a slicing motion with the ember in his hand. “Don’t you go bothering these people anymore, Koray.”
“They were trying to drown that girl!”
“That was a baptism.”
I peeled my lips back into a smile. “Shall I tell Child Protective Services to let her go?” I knew full well that the sheriff had no jurisdiction over CPS.
“Koray, one more word from you, and I’ll have you demoted to the secretarial pool.”
He started his engine and pulled away, smiling as I fumed.
I exhaled and walked back to the church. Above the open doors that had just belched out their contents of human trash, I glimpsed something I hadn’t before: a cross formed with two railroad spikes tied together, perched above the doors.
My eyes narrowed. That was too much of a coincidence.
Witchcraft for me, but not for thee?
—
I’d been told to leave this investigation alone.
I sure as fuck wasn’t going to. But if I didn’t have the support of my chain of command, I was screwed. I didn’t have any designs to be promoted to a public role, like chief of the Detective Bureau or elected sheriff, one day, but I wanted to continue to work. And the sheriff could make that very hard for me.
