“Like I said, it’s premature.”

Dad didn’t respond. He knew bullshit when he heard it.

16

Earlier in the weekend, Sarah had been discharged from the hospital. She was facing a court hearing on Wednesday, but for now she was out on a five-thousand-dollar bail bond and placed in her sister’s charge. Dad was pleased that Sarah was home: It was much easier to interview someone in the comfort of familiar surroundings. By the time we made it to Louise Sanders’s house, it was after twelve. She answered the door wrapped in a terry-cloth housecoat, a steaming mug of something in her left hand. She wasn’t overjoyed about our visit, but she did invite us in.

“It’s nothing personal, Officer Decker,” she told me. “You were very nice to us. I’m just tired of answering questions.”

“I can understand that.”

“I should get dressed.”

“You don’t have to bother, Louise. This is my father, Lieutenant Decker. We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d drop by to see how Sarah was doing.”

Dad and Louise exchanged smiles. He said, “How’s she dealing with everything?”

Louise laughed. “Honestly? I think she’s delighted by all the attention.”

“And how are you coping?”

Nice choice of words, Dad. Louise’s exasperation oozed out. “You don’t want to know. Would either of you like some coffee?”

We both accepted coffee. She told us to sit while she fetched our drinks. It took longer than it should have. When she came back, she had changed into a loose set of black sweats. We sipped java for a moment; then I broke the silence.

“If Sarah has a moment, we’d like to talk to her.”

Louise said, “Officer Decker, we already went over everything with Detective MacGregor.”

“I spoke to Detective MacGregor, Louise, and that’s why I’m here. He told me that Sarah didn’t say much about the baby’s father. There is someone else responsible for what happened.”

“I know. I hadn’t wanted to go there.” Louise threw up her hands. “She was supposed to be on the pill.”

“Why was she on the pill? Did Fordham know that she was sexually active?”

“She was under a doctor’s care,” Louise said. “Her gynecologist put her on as a precaution as well as a way to even out her periods. The decision wasn’t haphazard.”

“Of course not,” I concurred. “Listen, Louise, if her sexual activity was voluntary, then the baby’s father is her own business … or at least not police business. But like I said last week, if the activity was forced, that’s another matter.”

She stood up and began to pace. “I’m not going to put her through a rape trial. That’s out of the question!”

“I understand your reluctance. But shouldn’t we at least find out?”

“No, we shouldn’t! Some stones are better left unturned.”

“Maybe she needs therapy—”

“She has a therapist. If the topic comes up in therapy, let her deal with it then.”

“Louise, if there’s a person out there raping disabled girls like Sarah, I want him behind bars. At least, let her tell me yes or no.”