Steve watched in shock as Mrs. O'Hare got up from her chair and went to a
shelf to retrieve a photo album. He wasn't certain, but he thought she had
just told him to let go of his grief over her daughter and get on with his
life.
Coming over to sit beside Maggie on the couch, she opened the photo album. The first picture was of a precious, blue-eyed, brown-haired baby, toothlessly grinning at the camera.
Mrs. O'Hare said, "Even before…well, you know what they did to her…Lynn was a lot of things."
She turned the page, and there was the same tot. This time, she appeared to be screaming and throwing a block at the photographer. "She was a moody child," her mother explained, "going from bright and happy to selfish and vindictive to downright mean at the drop of a hat."
The next page showed snapshots of Lynn, a little older now, with other children. In some shots, she was playing nicely, in others, she was throwing things or yelling or kicking, and in one shot, she had her hand behind another child's head, giving the girl 'antennae'.
"I don't know why she was like that," Elizabeth continued, flipping through the album, "but she was a difficult child. Sometimes she could be so kind and loving, but no sooner did you turn around and she was cruel and wicked. No matter how much Pat and I loved her, no matter what we did for her, it never seemed enough."
There was a picture of Lynn and her dad, playing basketball in front of the garage.
"She was always closer to her father," Elizabeth said. "He taught her to play ball."
She turned to an 8" x 10" glossy of the shot Steve had seen in the article he'd read at the library. The article itself was in a plastic sleeve on the facing page.
"Deep inside, I think she really wanted to be a good person, Detective Sloan, but there was something else inside her, fighting that. I suppose you heard what she did to Coach Murdock?"
Steve nodded.
"Lynn loved that woman. She even snuck into the personnel files in the school office to find out her birthday and got the team to throw her a surprise party, but then the coach made her mad, and, well, you know what Lynn did."
Maggie put a hand on Mrs. O'Hare's arm. "Did you ever seek…professional…help for her?"
"Yes," Mrs. O'Hare said. "We talked to the guidance counselor, sent her to the school psychologist, found a child psychiatrist in Sacramento. They all told us she was just a normal, healthy child who needed to learn to control her anger. Until the incident with her coach, she'd never done anything too terrible, so we believed them."
Mrs. O'Hare turned to face Steve.
"Detective, for a long time, Lynn tried to be good. She fought…the darkness…inside her for years. She *really did* try, but after those policemen assaulted her, I think the darkness won."
"Mrs. O'Hare…"
"Please," she said, reaching across Maggie's lap to put a hand on his arm, "let me finish. You seem like a good man, a kind man, and I think you're probably the only man Lynn ever…cared…about after they…hurt her. I don't think she knew how to love anymore." For the first time, Mrs. O'Hare was moved to tears. "I think my baby meant it when she said you were special. I think you may have helped her find the light inside herself again, and I will choose to believe that, in her troubled mind, she wouldn't really have been killing you, but just taking you with her, to keep her safe from the darkness and to keep the light from ever going out again."
"Mrs. O'Hare, please…" Steve choked on his words, and she cut him off again.
"No! *Please*," she begged. "Let me maintain my illusions. If you know differently, I don't want to hear it. I don't blame you for what you did. Isn't that enough, that I agree you had no choice? Let me believe there was still something *decent* in my child. Don't *tell* me my baby was a monster."
Steve closed his hand over the age-spotted one that was still clutching his arm.
"Mrs. O'Hare," he said kindly, "I think you are wrong about Lynn. I think she still knew how to love."
He gave the old woman a gentle smile, and she smiled back at him through her tears.
Coming over to sit beside Maggie on the couch, she opened the photo album. The first picture was of a precious, blue-eyed, brown-haired baby, toothlessly grinning at the camera.
Mrs. O'Hare said, "Even before…well, you know what they did to her…Lynn was a lot of things."
She turned the page, and there was the same tot. This time, she appeared to be screaming and throwing a block at the photographer. "She was a moody child," her mother explained, "going from bright and happy to selfish and vindictive to downright mean at the drop of a hat."
The next page showed snapshots of Lynn, a little older now, with other children. In some shots, she was playing nicely, in others, she was throwing things or yelling or kicking, and in one shot, she had her hand behind another child's head, giving the girl 'antennae'.
"I don't know why she was like that," Elizabeth continued, flipping through the album, "but she was a difficult child. Sometimes she could be so kind and loving, but no sooner did you turn around and she was cruel and wicked. No matter how much Pat and I loved her, no matter what we did for her, it never seemed enough."
There was a picture of Lynn and her dad, playing basketball in front of the garage.
"She was always closer to her father," Elizabeth said. "He taught her to play ball."
She turned to an 8" x 10" glossy of the shot Steve had seen in the article he'd read at the library. The article itself was in a plastic sleeve on the facing page.
"Deep inside, I think she really wanted to be a good person, Detective Sloan, but there was something else inside her, fighting that. I suppose you heard what she did to Coach Murdock?"
Steve nodded.
"Lynn loved that woman. She even snuck into the personnel files in the school office to find out her birthday and got the team to throw her a surprise party, but then the coach made her mad, and, well, you know what Lynn did."
Maggie put a hand on Mrs. O'Hare's arm. "Did you ever seek…professional…help for her?"
"Yes," Mrs. O'Hare said. "We talked to the guidance counselor, sent her to the school psychologist, found a child psychiatrist in Sacramento. They all told us she was just a normal, healthy child who needed to learn to control her anger. Until the incident with her coach, she'd never done anything too terrible, so we believed them."
Mrs. O'Hare turned to face Steve.
"Detective, for a long time, Lynn tried to be good. She fought…the darkness…inside her for years. She *really did* try, but after those policemen assaulted her, I think the darkness won."
"Mrs. O'Hare…"
"Please," she said, reaching across Maggie's lap to put a hand on his arm, "let me finish. You seem like a good man, a kind man, and I think you're probably the only man Lynn ever…cared…about after they…hurt her. I don't think she knew how to love anymore." For the first time, Mrs. O'Hare was moved to tears. "I think my baby meant it when she said you were special. I think you may have helped her find the light inside herself again, and I will choose to believe that, in her troubled mind, she wouldn't really have been killing you, but just taking you with her, to keep her safe from the darkness and to keep the light from ever going out again."
"Mrs. O'Hare, please…" Steve choked on his words, and she cut him off again.
"No! *Please*," she begged. "Let me maintain my illusions. If you know differently, I don't want to hear it. I don't blame you for what you did. Isn't that enough, that I agree you had no choice? Let me believe there was still something *decent* in my child. Don't *tell* me my baby was a monster."
Steve closed his hand over the age-spotted one that was still clutching his arm.
"Mrs. O'Hare," he said kindly, "I think you are wrong about Lynn. I think she still knew how to love."
He gave the old woman a gentle smile, and she smiled back at him through her tears.