Page 40

THIRTY-NINE

Erin found Kaely’s statement rather chilling. “So, the victims don’t seem to connect to each other, but the area is important?” Erin frowned. “He has something against women, angels, and this town? Suddenly, I wish we’d picked someplace else to stay.”

Kaely smiled. “What? And miss all the fun?” She shook her head. “Sorry, that was in poor taste. At the BAU we had to find something to joke about so we could get through the day. None of us took our jobs lightly. It was just... necessary.”

“I understand. We did the same. Police officers in St. Louis see things you wouldn’t believe.”

Kaely took a sip of her tea and then said, “Why don’t you tell me about that?”

Something inside Erin turned to ice. She felt frozen, unable or unwilling to speak about the horrors that made it impossible to sleep some nights. Hadn’t she already shared enough? But why had she come here? Wasn’t it to finally relieve herself of all of the shadows that had held her in limbo? She took a deep breath, as if that would help her to release the images that played in her mind.

“Look, I don’t want to go into everything I’ve seen. Sharing what happened that night was hard enough. Suffice it to say, seeing children wasting away from a lack of food because their parents were spending their money on drugs—some of them not even wearing diapers—trying to exist in filthy conditions and housing that should have been bulldozed years ago.... It takes a toll on you. Sometimes we could help the children, and sometimes we couldn’t. We saw women who were beaten by their boyfriends or husbands but were too afraid to leave. Gang wars that left young people lying dead in the streets.” She felt her eyes fill with tears, but she didn’t care. “All that potential wiped out by ignorance and violence.” She shook her head. “We had to notify mothers that their children were dead. Sometimes they broke down and fell to the floor as if all the life had been drained from them. And other times, they didn’t react at all. The light in their eyes had died long ago.” She looked at Kaely. “I think the children bothered me the most. Maybe that’s why what happened the night Scott died devastated me so much. I had so much compassion for children—and then I caused the death of an innocent girl.” She shook her head. “I accidentally caused her death. I see that now. Thank you.”

Kaely nodded. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about her. You said her name was Sarah?”

Erin nodded. “Sarah Foster. Her father’s name is Toby. He... he’s a good man and was trying to raise his little girl after his wife left them both. His apartment was spotless, although like many of the buildings in that neighborhood, it needed to be updated. But you could tell he was doing his best to give Sarah a good home.” She looked at Kaely with tear-filled eyes. “Sarah was a straight-A student in a Christian school. Her father worked two jobs so he could send her there. One of the teachers let Sarah come to her house after school and stay with them until Toby could pick her up after he got off work.” She shrugged. “I know he tried to get them out of that neighborhood, but he didn’t have any family to go to.”

“Police shootings are always investigated,” Kaely said. “What was the result?”

“I was cleared. I was firing back at someone trying to kill me. They said that the shooting was an accident. Just like you said.”

“And did you ever talk to Mr. Foster again?”

“Yes,” Erin said. “I went back to his apartment and told him it was definitely my bullet that killed Sarah.”

“Did you check with the powers that be at the station before you did that?” Kaely asked.

“No.”

“And why is that?”

Erin picked up her tea and sipped it. Then she put the cup back on its saucer. “Because they wouldn’t have wanted me to do it. I felt... I knew... I had to.” She shrugged. “I handed in my badge and gun the day before.”

“And what did Mr. Foster say?”

“He...” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “He didn’t say anything at first. I was waiting for him to get angry again. Like he did the night it happened. But instead, he told me he’d realized it wasn’t my fault. And he thanked me for telling him the truth.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

Erin crossed her hands over her chest. “How did it make me feel?”

At that moment, the wind howled loudly, almost as if it were in tune with the way Erin felt. “It made me feel even worse.”

“Oh, Erin,” Kaely said, her eyes filling with tears. “The police didn’t blame you. In the end, even Mr. Foster didn’t blame you. You just told me that you realize now that it was an accident.”

Erin took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She felt better, that was true. But the pain she felt because a young girl wasn’t able to fulfill her life wasn’t going away any time soon.

She told that to Kaely who nodded. “I understand. A tragedy is a tragedy. But from now on, you need to remind yourself that although you witnessed it, and it’s incredibly sad, the only blame there should be is toward the gang members who broke the law and then fired on the police.” She met Erin’s gaze.

Erin stared at her for several seconds and then dropped her head. “When it happened, I couldn’t see past my own sense of guilt. My friends on the force told me the same things you have. For some reason I just couldn’t accept it. It felt as if I was trying to find the easy way out.” She shook her head. “I’m going to tell you something else,” Erin said slowly. “But you’re the only one outside of the school—and Toby Foster—who knows. You’ve got to keep it to yourself, okay?”

“Okay. I promise.”

“I set up a foundation that works through the schools in Sarah’s neighborhood to help families with children relocate to safer areas. Thankfully, other people are also donating. It’s called the Sarah Foster Foundation. ”

“Oh, Erin. That’s incredible,” Kaely said. “You brought something wonderful out of a tragedy. I’m so proud of you.”

Erin shrugged. “Thanks, but it’s founded on the blood of an innocent child. The price was too high.”

“I understand how you feel, but if I told you that Sarah is alive and living with God, would you be able to accept that? She’s happy, safe, loved beyond measure, and blessed more than we can imagine.”

Instead of being offended by what Kaely had said, Erin was actually comforted. She was actually startled by her reaction.

“I’m going to profile you, Erin,” Kaely said gently. “Not an involved profile, just a brief one.”

Something in Erin wanted to tell Kaely to stop. Not to do it. But even though she wanted to tell Kaely not to proceed, for some reason she couldn’t.

“Erin, I suspect that you not only blame your sister for the death of your parents, you’re also angry with them. Angry that they left you. And you’re angry at God for not preventing their deaths—even though He had nothing to do with it. I realize your sister’s drug use was the reason they went out on the roads that night of the accident. But do you really think your sister wanted that accident to happen? Of course she didn’t.” Kaely sighed. “Oh, Erin. You’ve been hard on your sister and because of that, you’ve been hard on yourself. In your mind, there’s no room for error. No forgiveness for weakness. If you forgive your sister—and your parents—then you’d have to forgive yourself. And you haven’t wanted to do that.”

She paused for a moment, but Erin couldn’t respond to what she’d said. She just stared down at her teacup.

“I know it’s hard to face what I’m saying, but it’s normal for someone who is grieving to have misplaced anger toward a loved one who dies. Rather than consciously blaming them, you find someone else to shoulder the guilt. In this case, it’s your sister. And in Sarah’s death—it’s you. So, how do you live with it? The guilt, the anger, the blame over your parents’ deaths? You join the police force. You need to fight back at the darkness that’s robbed you of your parents, your sister, and your ability to believe in God. But, Erin, you carried all that guilt and false sense of responsibility over into your job.”

Her eyes sought Erin’s. She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. Although it was hard to hear, something told her that Kaely was speaking the truth.

“And I did the same thing with Scott?”

“What do you think? You told me that in your dream—scratch that—your nightmare , you tried to get to Scott, but you couldn’t. You were trying to wade through blood that was so thick you could barely move?”

Erin nodded.

“Again, his blood was at your feet. You were taking the blame for him as well. My dear, dear friend. No one can handle all this guilt and be healthy. And certainly not happy.” Kaely pursed her lips and blew out a quick breath of air. “You keep your gun locked in a metal box. You told me you haven’t taken it out for quite some time, is that right?”

Erin could only nod.

“It’s because you’ve had thoughts of using it on yourself, isn’t it?”

“No, of course not,” Erin said, her words sounding like quick bursts of gunfire.

“You just lied to me.”

Erin got to her feet and walked away from the couch. This was too much. Really. She appreciated Kaely’s attempts to help her, but she was getting too close.

Kaely got up and walked up to her. Then she gently took her hands. “Tell me the truth,” she said gently. “I already know it, but you need to say it.”

Erin tried to wrestle her hands from Kaely’s, but she wouldn’t let go. The harder she tried to pull away, the tighter Kaely’s grip became. Finally, she cried out. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I didn’t believe I could go on anymore after what happened.” She squeezed Kaely’s hands. “But I don’t feel that way anymore. I mean, I know I still have a lot to work through, but you’ve helped me to see a path through the pain. And... and I think I’m finally able to see a way out.” She blinked away tears. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re right. You have a long road to walk, but I think you’re on the way. I’ll be here for you, Erin. But please remember that God is the One who can heal you completely. Think about that?”

“I will. I promise.” At one point, she might have said something like that as a way to get Kaely to back off. But now she meant it with her whole heart.