couple more calls that day, and didn't take those, either."
"Was this odd?"
"Not by then," she said. "This must have been around February. I remember I was kind of relieved that she didn't want to talk to Mark anymore."
"Did she have some kind of argument with him?"
Dottie shrugged. "All I know is that she hated him. She went from spending most of her time with him to absolutely hating him."
"Hating him the way a girl hates a guy who won't ask her out?"
Dottie sat back, giving Lena a hard look of appraisal. She finally seemed to realize that this interview was being conducted to establish Jenny's guilt, not clear her name.
Lena repeated her question. "She hated Mark because he didn't want to go out with her anymore?"
"No," Dottie snapped, her nasally twang back. "Of course not."
"You're certain?"
"He was arrested around that time," Dottie told her, obviously more comfortable putting Mark in the criminal role. "For assault. He attacked his sister."
Jeffrey cursed himself for not having checked this before. He picked up the phone in the interview room and punched Maria's extension.
"Yep?" Maria asked.
"Pull a file for me," he said, keeping his voice low. "Mark Patterson."
"Kid from last night?"
"Yes."
"Sure thing," she answered, ringing off.
When Jeffrey turned his attention back to the room, the climate had changed drastically. Dottie Weaver sat in her chair, her jaw set in an angry line.
Lena asked, "Would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Did you know your daughter's arm was fractured last year?"
Dottie seemed surprised. She asked Sara, "Did she come see you without me?"
"No," Sara answered, not elaborating. She seemed angry, but not at Dottie Weaver.
Lena pressed on. "Was your daughter interested in African or Middle Eastern culture?"
Dottie shook her head, not understanding. "Of course not. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
Sara asked, "Dottie, do you want to take a break?"
Lena shifted in her seat, keeping the questioning up. "Your daughter also had a stress fracture in her pelvis, Mrs. Weaver. Did you know this?"
Dottie's mouth worked, but she did not answer.
Lena said, "She was probably raped." She paused, then without emotion added the word, "Brutally."
"I don't…" Dottie turned to Sara, then back to Lena. "I don't understand."
"What about the scarring on her arms and legs?" Lena demanded. "What happened there? Why was your daughter cutting herself?"
"Cutting herself?" Dottie demanded. "What are you talking about?"
"There were cuts all over her body Self-inflicted, from the looks of them. You want to tell me how she could do this without you knowing?"
"She was secretive," Dottie countered. "She covered herself up with her clothes. I never-"
Lena interrupted, "Did you know that she'd had surgery in the last six months?"
"Surgery?" Dottie repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"Not surgery," Sara interrupted, putting her hand on Dottie's arm. She said, "Dottie, when I examined Jenny-"
Lena opened the case file. She tossed a picture across the table, then another. From his position, Jeffrey could not make out which ones, but he knew by the expression on Dottie's face exactly what the mother was looking at.
"Oh, my God, my baby." She put her hand to her mouth.
" Lena," Sara warned, putting her hand over the pictures. She tried to move them away, but Dottie stopped her. They struggled for a few seconds with one of the photos before Sara reluctantly let go.
"W-what?" Dottie stuttered. Her hand shook as she held the photo close to her face.
Lena looked smug as she sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She actually turned to the mirror, to Jeffrey, and raised her eyebrows in a sort of triumph.
Sara put her hand to Dottie's back. "Let me have this," she said, trying to take away the photo.
"My God, my God," the woman muttered, sobbing openly. "My baby. Who did this to my baby?"
Sara shot a look at Lena, and Jeffrey could feel the heat
"Was this odd?"
"Not by then," she said. "This must have been around February. I remember I was kind of relieved that she didn't want to talk to Mark anymore."
"Did she have some kind of argument with him?"
Dottie shrugged. "All I know is that she hated him. She went from spending most of her time with him to absolutely hating him."
"Hating him the way a girl hates a guy who won't ask her out?"
Dottie sat back, giving Lena a hard look of appraisal. She finally seemed to realize that this interview was being conducted to establish Jenny's guilt, not clear her name.
Lena repeated her question. "She hated Mark because he didn't want to go out with her anymore?"
"No," Dottie snapped, her nasally twang back. "Of course not."
"You're certain?"
"He was arrested around that time," Dottie told her, obviously more comfortable putting Mark in the criminal role. "For assault. He attacked his sister."
Jeffrey cursed himself for not having checked this before. He picked up the phone in the interview room and punched Maria's extension.
"Yep?" Maria asked.
"Pull a file for me," he said, keeping his voice low. "Mark Patterson."
"Kid from last night?"
"Yes."
"Sure thing," she answered, ringing off.
When Jeffrey turned his attention back to the room, the climate had changed drastically. Dottie Weaver sat in her chair, her jaw set in an angry line.
Lena asked, "Would you like something to drink?"
"No, thank you."
"Did you know your daughter's arm was fractured last year?"
Dottie seemed surprised. She asked Sara, "Did she come see you without me?"
"No," Sara answered, not elaborating. She seemed angry, but not at Dottie Weaver.
Lena pressed on. "Was your daughter interested in African or Middle Eastern culture?"
Dottie shook her head, not understanding. "Of course not. Why? What does that have to do with anything?"
Sara asked, "Dottie, do you want to take a break?"
Lena shifted in her seat, keeping the questioning up. "Your daughter also had a stress fracture in her pelvis, Mrs. Weaver. Did you know this?"
Dottie's mouth worked, but she did not answer.
Lena said, "She was probably raped." She paused, then without emotion added the word, "Brutally."
"I don't…" Dottie turned to Sara, then back to Lena. "I don't understand."
"What about the scarring on her arms and legs?" Lena demanded. "What happened there? Why was your daughter cutting herself?"
"Cutting herself?" Dottie demanded. "What are you talking about?"
"There were cuts all over her body Self-inflicted, from the looks of them. You want to tell me how she could do this without you knowing?"
"She was secretive," Dottie countered. "She covered herself up with her clothes. I never-"
Lena interrupted, "Did you know that she'd had surgery in the last six months?"
"Surgery?" Dottie repeated. "What are you talking about?"
"Not surgery," Sara interrupted, putting her hand on Dottie's arm. She said, "Dottie, when I examined Jenny-"
Lena opened the case file. She tossed a picture across the table, then another. From his position, Jeffrey could not make out which ones, but he knew by the expression on Dottie's face exactly what the mother was looking at.
"Oh, my God, my baby." She put her hand to her mouth.
" Lena," Sara warned, putting her hand over the pictures. She tried to move them away, but Dottie stopped her. They struggled for a few seconds with one of the photos before Sara reluctantly let go.
"W-what?" Dottie stuttered. Her hand shook as she held the photo close to her face.
Lena looked smug as she sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. She actually turned to the mirror, to Jeffrey, and raised her eyebrows in a sort of triumph.
Sara put her hand to Dottie's back. "Let me have this," she said, trying to take away the photo.
"My God, my God," the woman muttered, sobbing openly. "My baby. Who did this to my baby?"
Sara shot a look at Lena, and Jeffrey could feel the heat
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