Lila nodded. “Yes, she told me. That was why she slept on a broken arm last night. He wouldn’t even bring her into town until this afternoon. He couldn’t be bothered.”
“You don’t know that. There could be a hundred reasons he didn’t bring her in.” He sat back because it was obvious she was getting irritated with him, but he couldn’t open a case without some proof. “What do you want me to do? I can go out and talk to her.”
“She’ll lie. She’s too scared to say anything. Look, I have some experience with this. I can explain to you why I know this is abuse. I can show you the medical records. HIPAA doesn’t apply if I believe my patient is in danger.”
“Lila, it’s your first day here.” He needed to be gentle with her. She was doing this for the right reasons. “Shouldn’t you settle in and get a lay of the land? I’ll tell you what, I will go out there and check things out, but I can’t accuse Bobby of anything without proof.”
“Medical records are proof,” she insisted.
“Not when the alleged victim is telling a different story.” It was always the fine line he had to walk. Yes, his job was law enforcement, but he was in a small town, in charge of an entire parish, and that meant he was police officer, mediator, shrink at times. He wasn’t merely their authority figure. He had to be an advocate, too, and he couldn’t do that if no one trusted him. A situation like the one Lila had brought up was so pitted with land mines, it could be difficult to find his way through.
“She’s afraid.”
He’d never heard even a hint of gossip about Bobby Petrie being violent. “Like I said, I’ll see if I can talk to her.”
She sat back. “You won’t do anything at all.”
He wasn’t sure what to tell her and that made his gut churn. He didn’t want to be on opposite sides from her. “I’ll do all I can do, but you need to understand the way things work around here.”
“Apparently things work to protect men. It’s a whole lot like the rest of the world.” She stood up.
He followed her as she started out of the office. “Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. I’ll do what I can, but you know as well as I do that if I can’t get her to admit what’s happening or actively see it happening, my hands are tied. I know this must have brought back bad memories for you, but we have to deal with what’s happening in the here and now.”
She kept walking, not turning back his way. “It will continue. She’s already had one miscarriage from falling down the stairs.”
He hadn’t heard anything about her having a miscarriage. “I’ll ask her about it.”
“And she’ll lie. And then one day she won’t survive whatever fall she takes. Her clumsiness will lead to something she can’t come back from. Who do I need to talk to in order to make a formal notification of my suspicions?” She’d stopped at the reception desk, turning on her heels, her jaw set in a stubborn line.
“I told you, I hear you and I’ll look into it.” He didn’t want to be on the other side, but he also couldn’t change the way he did things to please her. And honestly, she wasn’t listening to a word he said.
“I want it in writing. I want it on paper that you knew on this date.”
It would normally set him on edge, but he’d done an Internet search the night before. What she’d been through would have broken most people. He was willing to give her an enormous amount of leeway. “Lila, this is not what happened to you. I will do everything I can to make you feel safe, but you have to understand that I also have to follow protocol.”
Her eyes flared slightly. “What happened to me?”
“I understand the impulse to see your friend in this,” he admitted. “You went through something terrible and it hasn’t been long.” The door swung open and he could see Noelle wheeling in, her backpack in her lap. “Let’s go back to my office and talk about this. I’m not discounting your expertise.”
She chuckled but there was zero amusement in the sound. “That’s exactly what you’re doing. Who told you? Does everyone know about the sad-sack victim?”
He wished Noelle hadn’t been so quick coming back from the library. He didn’t want to have this conversation in front of her. “Zep mentioned something happened to you in Dallas. I looked it up. You’re not some sad sack. What the hell were you supposed to do? I wasn’t saying something bad about you.”
“I don’t care what you think of me. I care that you do your job, but that appears to be writing tickets to innocent tourists.”