Even more than most people in Neptune, Inga needed to keep her job.
She tried not to get into it, when Keith hired her, at lunch with the other receptionists, even in her own head. She didn't like the reasons, the desperation. It never mattered to Keith. But Don Lamb never saw a personal tragedy he couldn't turn to profit, and it wasn't long until she heard the first threat. "If you want to keep your job..."
She did everything he asked.
She didn't hit bottom until little Veronica came through the door with her dress torn and her eyeliner running. Looking for justice Inga knew she wouldn't get. If you want to keep your job. This time, it was "she never came through here today." Covering his ass, Lamb's number one skill. Inga hated him, and she altered the records, and she kept her job. But she didn't forget.
So when the department put in for non-lethal deterrents, she altered that record, too, hid the cost in the incidentals. Looked up their new address - far from the old house, where she had always been welcome - and left the box on the step. "For Veronica. I'm sorry. Take care."
She wouldn't know if Veronica ever used it, ever recognized the note, even got the box. She hadn't rung the bell. Even a year later, when a whole new Veronica breezed through to the courtroom, Inga couldn't be sure.
So when Don Lamb tore out of the courtroom and grabbed Veronica's elbow, Inga looked for the old fear, swallowing a year's worth of indecision and guilt. Veronica jerked her arm away. One hand rose to her necklace, but as the other dropped to her purse, she looked right at Inga, and smiled.
"Later, Deputy." For a second, it was Lamb who looked afraid.
Inga couldn't get justice for anybody, least of all herself. Most people didn't, when they came through here. But a little protection, a little revenge...she liked to see that around.