“Biff, these laser pointers disturbed one of my training lessons. Two of my personnel were badly injured. Where do you plan on going to college?”
The boy’s foot began to tap on the floor. “I can’t lose my scholarship,” Biff blurted out.
“Tell us how you found those cabins?” Keith asked.
“Rebecca’s grandparents used to own the old farm. She used to play with her cousins there,” Biff said.
“How long have you been going there?” Wes asked.
“About three years.”
Wes and Keith tag-teamed Biff until they received all the information he knew. Next, they focused on Rebecca’s best friend Allison. They didn’t ask her one question. Instead, the eighteen-year-old spewed the whole story.
Wes got up and pulled Rebecca’s file. Her last name was Jackson. Her parents were listed as Edward and Christina. “Hi, Rebecca. I’m Wes, and this is Lieutenant Hartung.” He took a gentle approach to the sixteen-year-old to start.
The young girl narrowed her gaze. “I know my rights, you pig. You can’t question me without a parent or attorney present,” she spat.
Wes leaned in close to her face. “You weren’t under arrest, and we hoped to resolve this amicably. You give us no choice. Rebecca, please stand.” Wes waved over a female operator. “Here’s the chink in your reasoning. Rebecca Jackson, you are under arrest for assault by the unlawful use of a laser pointer.”
Keith Hartung watched as the female operator frisked her. “Hands behind your back.” The lieutenant applied handcuffs. He sat her in a chair and went over his radio, requesting a male and female deputy to remove her from the scene and take her to the sheriff’s department holding cells.
Wes pursed his lips. “Anyone else want to join Rebecca, or do you want to tell us about the cabins?”
Every one of the remaining kids told a story.
Back in Wes’s office, Keith Hartung shook his head. “Rebecca Jackson is a piece of work. Could you imagine being that arrogant to law enforcement?”
“No.” Wes shuddered. “If she is like this at sixteen, I wonder what her parents and grandparents are like. But it gives me a direction to go in. And you have probable cause.”
“Okay, I need to speak to Eleanor.”
Wes felt numb.
* * *
Eleanor and Brandon sat together in her office. “Ellie, I need to know that it was your decision to want me for your assistant,” Brandon said.
Eleanor smiled. “Yes. I watched you in DC and here. You’re great with people and the horses, plus you have the skill set to back it up. I was going to ask you if you’d be willing to take on another client.”
“Sure. Wes gave me the note you left on your desk about Troy Bremen. Is he the client?” Brandon asked.
“Yes, I want you to take on Troy with Aaron. But I was wondering if you’d take me on as a client,” Eleanor whispered. “I can’t get rid of this damn headache. I guess I slept wrong. Every bone in my back and neck hurts.” She opened her drawer, pulled the Midol from her purse and took two.
“Of course I’ll take you on, Ellie. But technically you’re my boss,” Brandon said.
“I’ll speak to Ken and arrange for Pete Walter to be your supervisor, not me. I trust you, and that is hard for me.”
“Then I’d be honored. Do you want to chat now? Or later?”
“I’d like to talk about Troy first. I need to ensure none of his file gets leaked. Keep very limited treatment notes other than the horse and the related exercises.”
“Of course,” Brandon said.
“In August, he was raped and beaten by more than one male while working undercover. His physical injuries were grave.” Eleanor opened her desk safe and pulled out Troy’s file for Brandon to read. “He’s received therapy since he regained consciousness. His most pressing issue is his need to remember a portion of the attack. He’s read his chart and understands how his injuries occurred. We need to understand what he wants to gain from remembering and go from there.”
Brandon pulled his glasses from his pocket and began to read. He ran his hand through his hair. “Ellie, you have a rapport with him. Will he accept me?”
“Yes. Brandon, put your therapy hat on. I’m, I don’t know quite how to describe it, I’m involved with Wes. Wes and he are close friends. I can’t go there with Troy, or Wes, for that matter, as a therapist.”
