Easy Innocence

Chapter 7

THE WHITE Volvo careened around the corner so fast the driver had to slam on the brakes. Georgia knew the woman behind the wheel. Ellie Foreman was involved in a case Georgia worked on when she was still on the force. In fact, it was the case that had triggered her suspension. Despite that, Georgia ended up liking Foreman. Except for moments like this when the woman displayed a sense of entitlement that made Georgia bristle. Why did some people assume they could break the rules? To be fair, though, Foreman wasn’t alone. Especially on the North Shore.

“Comes with the territory,” O’Malley used to say. “They’re all lawyers and doctors and VIPs who tell you how connected they are. Some are. Some aren’t. Still, always address them as Miss or Mr. And treat ’em with kid gloves, even more so when you catch them red-handed.”

As the Volvo lurched to a stop on the driveway, Georgia decided to keep her mouth shut. She wasn’t a cop anymore. What did she care if someone broke the rules? A moment later, the driver opened the door and climbed out, pulling off the baseball cap she wore and releasing a mop of blond curls.

Not Ellie. Rachel, her daughter.

Georgia watched as the girl, oblivious to Georgia, retrieved her back pack and a white plastic bag. She stuffed the bag into her backpack and hoisted it up on her shoulder. When had she turned sixteen? Georgia used to resent it when her grandmother got her age wrong, which happened all the time. She’d vowed never to do that to a young person; it was insulting. She tugged on her corduroy jacket.

“Rachel!”

The girl spun around. “Georgia!” A string of emotions paged across her face: surprise, joy, finally guilt. “Oh, God. I didn’t see you.”

“No kidding,” Georgia said dryly. “You always race around the corner that fast? How long have you had your license?”

The girl’s cheeks reddened. “Please don’t tell my mom. I won’t do it again. It was just—” She cut herself off. “Hey, you’re not in uniform. You have the day off?”

“Nice try. But changing the subject won’t do it. What if one of the little kids you used to babysit was running up the street?”

Rachel nervously unrolled the cuff of her sweater, although it already reached to her wrist. “I won’t do it again. Really.”

Georgia nodded. She didn’t want to be too hard on the kid. Rachel was the reason she’d come over.

Rachel seemed to realize the all-clear had been given and relaxed. “Hey, why are you here? Is something wrong?”

“No.”

Rachel started to shrug the backpack off her shoulder.

“But I do want to ask you a few questions.”

She squinted and furrowed her brow. “About what?”

“How ’bout we go inside?”