cracked a bit, which surprised Lynagh, and then he continued to speak. “She is becoming a beautiful young lady, and I know she is driving all the boys and teachers crazy by now.” Healey forced a nervous laugh. Lynagh smiled as he saw the pride in Healey's face as he continued to talk about Lindsey Wilkerson. She had been twelve years old at the time of the Face of Fear investigation. It was her photographic memory and high IQ that was the downfall of the Voice, former FBI Agent Jason “Jack” O'Connor, and put him away for life behind bars. It was Officer Lynagh and Paul Powers who were downstairs in the house while Officer Healey was in the upstairs bathroom with Lindsey and her parents, who were hunkered down in the hot tub when the attackers came. Healey, suffering from serious wounds from shotgun blasts, sat against the wall with his shotgun ready to protect the family. This was only minutes after Healey saved the girl's life by shooting one of O'Connor's cronies through the head after climbing through her bedroom window.
Lynagh continued to let Healey express himself even though this was the longest answer to a question he had ever asked, but it was OK. He saw a side to Healey he had not seen before. It was an emotional side that indicated genuine feelings about the girl who would always consider him her protector. Lynagh looked out the window as he saw Bud drive up to the gate, punch in numbers, and go in, but he let Healey continue to speak anyway.
“I hope one day when she's old enough to make her own decisions that she would want to come by and say hello, that's all. She was great at the trial, wasn't she?” Healey looked at Lynagh for validation. His partner nodded as he watched Healey keep going. “The faces of the attorneys, Judge Green, the jury as Lindsey recounted the dates in chronological order. I thought the defense was going to pee their pants,” he said as he started laughing. “She held up, she wouldn't let anyone get one up on her. She wouldn't break. Shit, she had O'Connor's attorney nervous. Their only chance was intimidating her with fear by hurting her or her parents or her dog. I was so proud of her. It's amazing to me how respectful the media was to her. They can be wild animals on stories, but they kept her name out of the papers. I suppose it's another reason her parents didn't want her to keep in touch with us. I understand.”
Healey giggled like Lynagh had never heard him before and added, “Besides, I don't think the world is ready for Lindsey Wilkerson just yet, but look out, America, when she is ready.” He put his head down in the car as he took a long breath. Then silence. Lynagh put his hand on his shoulder as Justin Healey looked at him.
“Listen up,” Lynagh said. “The best thing about a girl with a photographic memory is it's a certainty she won't forget you, but something tells me she wouldn't anyway. I have a feeling you haven't seen the last of her.” Healey nodded as he saw Bud's car pull out of the front path of the house.
“Shit, Bud's been here.”
Lynagh laughed and said, “Yes, you were going on so much about Lindsey I didn't want to stop you. Let's go check on this asshole Roberts.” They drove down Cliff Road toward the entrance of Belle Terre, and other than a glance from Justin Healey, nothing was said when they drove by the house of Lindsey Wilkerson.
It was a twenty-minute drive to Bruce Roberts's house in Lake Grove, and the officers were surprised he wasn't home on a Sunday evening with the club closed. They looked through the windows and even considered checking the door.
“Maybe we should hear a noise inside and have probable cause,” Healey said as he put his hand on the knob of the door.
Lynagh laughed. “Nah, let's give him ten minutes and come back tomorrow.” They sat in the car, and within five minutes Bruce Roberts got out of his car and started walking toward his front door.
“Christ,” Healey said. “Look at the size of
Lynagh continued to let Healey express himself even though this was the longest answer to a question he had ever asked, but it was OK. He saw a side to Healey he had not seen before. It was an emotional side that indicated genuine feelings about the girl who would always consider him her protector. Lynagh looked out the window as he saw Bud drive up to the gate, punch in numbers, and go in, but he let Healey continue to speak anyway.
“I hope one day when she's old enough to make her own decisions that she would want to come by and say hello, that's all. She was great at the trial, wasn't she?” Healey looked at Lynagh for validation. His partner nodded as he watched Healey keep going. “The faces of the attorneys, Judge Green, the jury as Lindsey recounted the dates in chronological order. I thought the defense was going to pee their pants,” he said as he started laughing. “She held up, she wouldn't let anyone get one up on her. She wouldn't break. Shit, she had O'Connor's attorney nervous. Their only chance was intimidating her with fear by hurting her or her parents or her dog. I was so proud of her. It's amazing to me how respectful the media was to her. They can be wild animals on stories, but they kept her name out of the papers. I suppose it's another reason her parents didn't want her to keep in touch with us. I understand.”
Healey giggled like Lynagh had never heard him before and added, “Besides, I don't think the world is ready for Lindsey Wilkerson just yet, but look out, America, when she is ready.” He put his head down in the car as he took a long breath. Then silence. Lynagh put his hand on his shoulder as Justin Healey looked at him.
“Listen up,” Lynagh said. “The best thing about a girl with a photographic memory is it's a certainty she won't forget you, but something tells me she wouldn't anyway. I have a feeling you haven't seen the last of her.” Healey nodded as he saw Bud's car pull out of the front path of the house.
“Shit, Bud's been here.”
Lynagh laughed and said, “Yes, you were going on so much about Lindsey I didn't want to stop you. Let's go check on this asshole Roberts.” They drove down Cliff Road toward the entrance of Belle Terre, and other than a glance from Justin Healey, nothing was said when they drove by the house of Lindsey Wilkerson.
It was a twenty-minute drive to Bruce Roberts's house in Lake Grove, and the officers were surprised he wasn't home on a Sunday evening with the club closed. They looked through the windows and even considered checking the door.
“Maybe we should hear a noise inside and have probable cause,” Healey said as he put his hand on the knob of the door.
Lynagh laughed. “Nah, let's give him ten minutes and come back tomorrow.” They sat in the car, and within five minutes Bruce Roberts got out of his car and started walking toward his front door.
“Christ,” Healey said. “Look at the size of
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