The Target
Page 23
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She met his eyes squarely. "If that monster had been you, I would have at least wounded you. That way, at least, you couldn't have been out on bail. You would have been in a hospital. There maybe someone would have screwed up your medicine and just maybe you would have croaked."
He drained the last of his coffee, an eyebrow arched. "You don't have much faith in our system."
"No, not a scintilla of faith. The system, even if it weren't screwed up, is so backed up that plea bargains are the only way to keep criminals moving. Why am I saying the obvious to you, a judge who lives this every day?
"You know that this guy, even if he were caught, might plea-bargain down to seven years then get out in three. It's not right, but of course the trial lawyers aren't about to let anybody change anything. They don't care about justice, just about getting their hands on as much money as they can. Then they put all the focus on the poor criminal and how screwed up his childhood was, as if that excuses his brutality. It's just not right. You're part of it. You know it's not right."
He said mildly, "No, it's not right. Look, no one wants the bad guys on the streets. Most of us work really hard to keep them in prison." He shrugged. "But sometimes the wrong things just happen."
"Spoken like the person you are."
He shrugged. "I guess none of us can escape what we are for very long."
"You said you came here to hide out."
He looked mildly embarrassed. "Things were out of control. I came here to get myself back together again and to give people time to forget, which they will, soon enough."
"You're a federal judge. You have to know lots of people. You must believe in the system. Why didn't you immediately take Emma to the police? The hospital?"
"I couldn't," he said simply. "I just couldn't. She was terrified. I couldn't bear the thought of strangers all over her." His eyes dropped to his running shoes. "I also worried that she could be taken again if she went home."
She just looked at him for a very long time, then, slowly, she nodded. "If I'd been in your shoes, I wouldn't have given her over to strangers either. I wouldn't have sent her home either, not until I knew she'd be protected. Thank you for keeping her safe. She's the most important person in the whole world. I don't know if I could have gone on if she'd been killed."
He thought she would cry, but instead, she shook herself, and stood up. "And that's why I don't want to go back to Denver."
7
"IF I WERE in your shoes, I'd feel the same way." He sat forward, his elbows on the scarred tabletop. "I worried about not notifying the police, not taking her to a hospital, but, bottom line, I just couldn't give her over to the care of strangers. Did you see the sheriff in Dillinger?"
"No, I stopped seeing the local cops as of six towns ago. I just took Emma's photo around and asked and asked. I didn't know what else to do. I had this feeling that the kidnapper had taken her west, not up north toward Fort Collins and Cheyenne. No, I just knew it was here in the Rockies."
"Why?"
"The Denver police had this hot line for anyone who had seen anything. They were flooded with calls, none of them relevant, but there was this one, an old woman who claimed she'd seen a white van heading west. The cops thought she was senile and ignored it, but I went to see her. She lives up the block from me. She has really bad arthritis and so she spends a lot of time just sitting in her chair, looking out the window. If there was anything to see I knew she'd have seen it. I told the cops this, but they blew it off."
"How could she know the van was going west?"
"We live on a hill facing west and facing the 70. From her deck, she saw the van turn onto the freeway going west. She swears she saw a little girl in the van."
"No ransom note?"
She shook her head. "No, at least not since yesterday morning. That's the last time I checked in. That's what the FBI agents were counting on. They kept telling me over and over that I had to be patient, just sit there by the phone and be patient. I was to let them tell me what to do since they knew everything and I was stupid. I nearly smacked this one agent. I waited for two days and nothing. Still, the FBI agents just kept shaking their heads saying that I had to wait, wait, wait. I was going crazy. Finally I just headed out at dawn the morning of the third day. I call in every day and let them yell at me.
"I've visited more places than I can remember. Really, this one was the last stop. When I came into Dillinger, I couldn't believe it when everyone just nodded and said she was Ramsey's little girl. If I'd seen you then, without Emma, I would probably have cleaned out my Detonics on you."
He drained the last of his coffee, an eyebrow arched. "You don't have much faith in our system."
"No, not a scintilla of faith. The system, even if it weren't screwed up, is so backed up that plea bargains are the only way to keep criminals moving. Why am I saying the obvious to you, a judge who lives this every day?
"You know that this guy, even if he were caught, might plea-bargain down to seven years then get out in three. It's not right, but of course the trial lawyers aren't about to let anybody change anything. They don't care about justice, just about getting their hands on as much money as they can. Then they put all the focus on the poor criminal and how screwed up his childhood was, as if that excuses his brutality. It's just not right. You're part of it. You know it's not right."
He said mildly, "No, it's not right. Look, no one wants the bad guys on the streets. Most of us work really hard to keep them in prison." He shrugged. "But sometimes the wrong things just happen."
"Spoken like the person you are."
He shrugged. "I guess none of us can escape what we are for very long."
"You said you came here to hide out."
He looked mildly embarrassed. "Things were out of control. I came here to get myself back together again and to give people time to forget, which they will, soon enough."
"You're a federal judge. You have to know lots of people. You must believe in the system. Why didn't you immediately take Emma to the police? The hospital?"
"I couldn't," he said simply. "I just couldn't. She was terrified. I couldn't bear the thought of strangers all over her." His eyes dropped to his running shoes. "I also worried that she could be taken again if she went home."
She just looked at him for a very long time, then, slowly, she nodded. "If I'd been in your shoes, I wouldn't have given her over to strangers either. I wouldn't have sent her home either, not until I knew she'd be protected. Thank you for keeping her safe. She's the most important person in the whole world. I don't know if I could have gone on if she'd been killed."
He thought she would cry, but instead, she shook herself, and stood up. "And that's why I don't want to go back to Denver."
7
"IF I WERE in your shoes, I'd feel the same way." He sat forward, his elbows on the scarred tabletop. "I worried about not notifying the police, not taking her to a hospital, but, bottom line, I just couldn't give her over to the care of strangers. Did you see the sheriff in Dillinger?"
"No, I stopped seeing the local cops as of six towns ago. I just took Emma's photo around and asked and asked. I didn't know what else to do. I had this feeling that the kidnapper had taken her west, not up north toward Fort Collins and Cheyenne. No, I just knew it was here in the Rockies."
"Why?"
"The Denver police had this hot line for anyone who had seen anything. They were flooded with calls, none of them relevant, but there was this one, an old woman who claimed she'd seen a white van heading west. The cops thought she was senile and ignored it, but I went to see her. She lives up the block from me. She has really bad arthritis and so she spends a lot of time just sitting in her chair, looking out the window. If there was anything to see I knew she'd have seen it. I told the cops this, but they blew it off."
"How could she know the van was going west?"
"We live on a hill facing west and facing the 70. From her deck, she saw the van turn onto the freeway going west. She swears she saw a little girl in the van."
"No ransom note?"
She shook her head. "No, at least not since yesterday morning. That's the last time I checked in. That's what the FBI agents were counting on. They kept telling me over and over that I had to be patient, just sit there by the phone and be patient. I was to let them tell me what to do since they knew everything and I was stupid. I nearly smacked this one agent. I waited for two days and nothing. Still, the FBI agents just kept shaking their heads saying that I had to wait, wait, wait. I was going crazy. Finally I just headed out at dawn the morning of the third day. I call in every day and let them yell at me.
"I've visited more places than I can remember. Really, this one was the last stop. When I came into Dillinger, I couldn't believe it when everyone just nodded and said she was Ramsey's little girl. If I'd seen you then, without Emma, I would probably have cleaned out my Detonics on you."
