Page 47 of Girl, Remembered

‘No can do,’ Officer Ferry said. ‘Tracy’s lawyers have her under lock and key. You know this.’

That was indeed the last thing Ella had heard about this situation, but that was before the recent advancement. ‘But we know her identity now. She’s definitely Tracy, not her sister.’

‘That might be so, but I’m still under lawyer’s orders. Family only. Not that she has anything other than a sister as far as we know, but a family-only order is easier to pass than a no-contact order.’

‘Please. We only need to see her for a few minutes.’

‘You know I can’t do that, Miss Dark. My ass would be on the line. And besides, both of our interview rooms are unavailable. They need repairs, and we’ve got maintenance guys coming in overnight. The baby’s unavailable.’

Dever asked, ‘Baby?’

‘That’s what we call her, because she hasn’t said a word. But yes, she’s out of bounds.’

There was no wall more frustrating than a legal wall. Such walls could seldom be broken down with sheer force, and if they were, a possible prison sentence was waiting on the other side. Ella couldn’t do that to this warden, whose only crime was that he was the unfortunate soul covering the graveyard shift tonight.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ Ella asked. ‘Any way to see her before morning?’

‘Not really. What do you want me to say? Sure, to hell with the law? Family only, and even then Doyle has to consent. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go to your office and take it up with-’

‘Tell Tracy she has a family member who wants to see her.’

It was Dever this time. Officer Ferry arched an eyebrow. Clearly he was no stranger to requests to bend the rules.

‘Now you want me to lie for you? This is out of order, agents, and I can’t-’

‘No. I’m not asking you to lie. I’m Supervisory Special Agent Terrance Dever, and I’m Tracy Doyle’s legal guardian.’

Ella, bizarrely, likened Dever’s comment to someone shouting bomb in an airport. If it was a lie, it was an unnecessary one.

‘Her… legal guardian?’ Ella needed to hear the own words out of her mouth. Meanwhile, Ferry looked at Dever like he’d said he was going to recite the Bible.

‘Someone needed to be. I took up the mantle. I still am, as far as I know, to both Lindsey and Tracy. Nobody’s filed to end it. They turned eighteen, twenty-one, whatever. Nobody revokes something nobody remembers exists. I never told anyone, and we made sure to keep it off record, given that I was a cop when it happened. It was administrative, but it’s there.’

Officer Ferry looked like he’d regretted every decision he’d ever made that had brought him to this moment in his life. Ella couldn’t blame him, because even she couldn’t fathom this being legitimate.

‘I don’t believe that,’ the warden said.

‘I understand why you wouldn’t, but there’ll be paperwork somewhere. Buried, off the main system, filed under a name change most likely, but it exists.’

‘Right, but paperwork somewhere isn’t paperwork here.’

‘No. It isn’t, but I’m an SSA with the Bureau, and I can personally guarantee that nothing about tonight comes back on you. I’ll put that in writing if you want it in writing.’

The warden looked like he was chewing the offer, but he clearly didn’t like the taste. ‘And if it turns out you’re lying to me right now, in my own prison?’

‘Then I’ll write you a check for a hundred thousand dollars out of my own account, tonight. ‘ Dever said it without blinking, like the number was nothing to him, or like he’d already decided it was cheaper than the alternative.

Officer Ferry looked at the radio in his hand, then at Dever, then at Ella, like he was hoping one of them might rescue him from having to make the decision himself.

‘I’m going to regret this,’ the warden said.

Ella was momentarily lost for words. A freight train of knowledge had flattened her, and she still couldn’t work out if Dever was lying or not. His body language was as solid as a mountain, so he was either telling the truth or he was better at lying than every con artist and killer she’d ever met.

‘You’ll regret nothing. Trust me.’

This was not the Dever she’d known, and this new version was somehow worse than the work-shy freeloading version she’d become acquainted with over the past six months. But she guessed, like Dever’s previous incarnation, this version came with occasional positives too.

Officer Ferry grabbed a radio off his belt, pushed the buzzer and said, ‘Rob, are you near Tracy Doyle’s cell?’