Did that mean the commissioner knew about the cover-up? Knew there was a mole? Knew the mole?
Julie must think they knew the mole, or she wouldn’t have thought Patricia was there to watch over her. Question was, did Julie know who the mole was?
Colin was sure Julie was being paranoid and would admit as much herself.
But what if Colin was wrong?
Wayne had said they had to be careful. That they shouldn’t go to the commissioner until they had facts. Did he suspect the commissioner?
Did he know more than he was telling her?
“They’re testing you,” Chantel said, not because she was convinced of that yet, but because she had to know Julie’s reaction to the possibility. She needed all of the information she could get because it might just end up being her against the world on this one.
It wasn’t going to stop her. But she’d like to live through it.
“I think they are,” Julie said, as though choosing her words carefully. “But if you asked Colin, he’d probably tell you that I’m just being paranoid.”
“He seems to have your back, to believe in you—why would you think he’d blow you off on this one?”
Harris’s words. Not Johnson’s. She had to be more careful.
“He doesn’t think Patricia knows anything about...that night.”
“But you think she does.”
“Not until she started showing up on all of my committees. And after this...I’m sure of it. They’re pushing me. Forcing me to accept the fact that if I’m going to stay here, I have to live side by side with the man who raped me and not say a word.”
Julie’s voice wobbled. Her eyes filled with tears. But she blinked them back.
The entire Santa Raquel Police Department could be corrupt—if their leader was. She and other beat cops could be risking their lives every day, for very little pay, trusting their brothers to have their backs, when the only thing there was was power and greed. Backstabbers, not savers.
“Colin said that you and Leslie are friendly. She knows, doesn’t she? About that night?”
Julie nodded. “She’s the only one I’ve ever told.”
Had Leslie said something to someone? Patricia, maybe? Thinking she was helping?
“Did you tell her before or after you signed an agreement never to speak of that night again?”
“Before. Colin didn’t want us to sign them. He refused to sign one. Leslie and my mom weren’t best friends or anything, but my mom told me once that if there was ever a time when I felt like I could trust only one woman in our circle, it should be Leslie. So I went to her and asked for her advice.”
“She told you to sign it.” Chantel didn’t even need to ask. Leslie knew firsthand that there was no protection for domestic violence victims in their midst. And date rape could be considered under those auspices.
Julie nodded again, her lips pinched.
Taking a chance, Chantel reached out a hand, covering Julie’s where they were clasped on the table. “Can you tell me who he is?” she asked. “I know your agreement says you can’t, and you have no reason to trust me. But maybe, if you tell me, between Leslie and Colin and I, we can make certain the man gets nowhere near you that night.”
Julie shook her head. “I can’t go.”
“Of course you can.” Harris blurted it right out there. And Johnson tried to soften the response with, “You aren’t alone, Julie. Not only is Colin here, but right now, I am, too. I’m a woman who’s...been through things, too.”
Not the same things. But some similar pain.
“I thought you probably had,” Julie said. “You’re...different. More touchable.”
The real difference was that she wasn’t one of them and wasn’t doing such a great job pretending she was, since the two people who were spending time with her saw that she didn’t quite fit in.
Which wasn’t her biggest concern at the moment.
And she couldn’t get off topic by discussing her own angst—either real or one she’d make up on the spot to fit her cover.
“You have to go, Julie,” she said now, strictly for Julie’s sake. “Because if you don’t, they win. They’ve laid down the gauntlet. They’re waiting to see what you’re made of. If you show weakness now, they’ll have won. And you’ll either end up moving away from the home you love, or you’ll live the rest of your life a shadow in your own world. You aren’t the criminal here. You don’t belong in prison—no matter how beautiful your cell might be.”
When the other woman started to sob, Chantel broke off. She hadn’t meant to go on so much. She hoped it hadn’t been too far.