A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost (10 page)

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Authors: Dawn Kopman Whidden

Tags: #Suspense & Thrillers

BOOK: A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost
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“How about you, Mr. Ginns? Any medical or mental illness in your family? Brain tumors, violent behavior?” His cane was tapping the glass coffee table in front of his chair.

 

“None of that in my family either, Dr. Rubin. I didn’t know my great grandparents, but I did occasionally hear my mother talk about my dad’s strange aunt Betsy. I think she practiced witchcraft, or so the rumors went. But I just remember her as a sweet old woman.”

 

It was Eddie that spoke next.

 

“You know, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree branch, looking for crazy.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

I turned to look at him. His eyes were still bloodshot and sagging with exhaustion and grief, I hoped; not guilt.

 

“Evan’s parents, now they’re a bit off. My sister and Evan didn’t have too much to do with them after Brad was born. His mother was real nervous around him. She tried to be grandmotherly, but she still acted like she didn’t like him. And Evan’s father…Caroline said Evan’s dad completely ignored Brad, acted like he wasn’t in the room. After a while, they just stopped coming around. They would send a birthday or Christmas present. Never invited them to their home.”

 

“Do you know if Evan and his parents were close before Brad was born?”

 

It was Mrs. Ginns that answered. “They used to stay in touch more often. I don’t think they wanted Evan to marry Caroline and it upset Caroline and me too. I think once they got married, the relationship became strained. Once Brad was born, they pretty much stayed in the background—a phone call here and there, mostly initiated by Evan. They did come to the hospital when Brad was born. It was the weirdest thing.” She turned toward her husband and asked, “Remember, honey?”

 

Looking back at me, she continued, “We were all just oohing and aahing over that little tiny baby, and Beverly, Evan’s mother just… I remember this strange noise that came out of her mouth when she first saw him. She never asked to hold him. She just seemed to ignore the baby after that. I don’t think her husband even looked at him. It was very awkward. I thought I heard her whisper to her husband about the baby looking exactly like somebody named Arnold, but I wasn’t sure. They stayed a few more minutes, and then left. I think we’ve only seen them once or twice since then. I remember Evan was always really apologetic about their behavior, but we didn’t care. More of the baby for us. Brad was our first grandchild. In all fairness, I think they have some grandchildren from Evan’s brother or sister.

 

“You know sometimes grandparents fight for their grandchildren’s attention. We didn’t’ have that. He hardly knows them. Brad was our baby; we’re his Nana and Papa. He adores his Papa.” She looked up at her husband. “We’re all he has now. My poor baby.” She broke down into quiet sobs.

 

I looked over at her husband; he was trying hard to keep the tears from flowing himself.

 

“Can you give me a contact number where I can reach them? I may want to speak to them.”

 

It was Eddie that spoke up.

 

“They’re staying at the motel in town .They said they were going to be leaving right after the funeral. They live in Stockbridge Massachusetts, so you best get them before they leave.”

 

I wondered if he was being a bit too anxious about seeing me leave.

 

“Well I appreciate your honesty. I ordered several blood tests and scans for Brad, and we’re trying to get him to open up, and tell us what happened; so far he’s stayed pretty quiet. Sometimes traumas like this take a while for children to start telling us what happened. Brad may not even know what happened. Although he says he did it, he can’t, or won’t, tell us why. Not yet.”

 

“When can we see him?” His grandmother looked at me pleadingly. “He needs his Nana.”

 

I smiled; I wanted to help this sad woman. She had just lost her daughter in the cruelest way and was still willing to forgive the child responsible.

 

“Give me one more day of observation and most of the preliminary testing should be back by then. How about you come by Sunday, about two in the afternoon? I’ll arrange for you to see him then.”

 

Her eyes, which had taken on a glossy sheen, seemed to get brighter and bluer. She managed a smile.

 

“We’ll be there Dr. Rubin. You tell Brad, we’ll be there.” She looked at her husband. “Right, Mark? We’ll be there. You tell Brad his Nana and Papa will be there.”

 

Her husband stood up, put his arm around his wife’s shoulder. “You bet we will.” He gave her a quick hug and turned back toward me.

 

“Thank you, doctor. Thank you for seeing us.”

 

“You’re welcome, Mr. Ginns. I look forward to seeing you Sunday. I’ll let Brad know you’re coming.”

 

As the door closed behind me, I heard Mrs. Ginns break down and sob. There was no question in my mind that she was being comforted in the arms of her husband.

 

By the time I got home that evening, I was ready to get into a hot bath, throw on my flannel pajamas, and finish up the DeMille novel. I could hear the phone ringing as I put the key in the lock while I tried to balance my dry cleaning in one arm and my empty coffee mug in the other. I hurried to pick up the phone, dropping my clothes, half tripping over them.

 

“Hello,” I managed to get out, catching my breath.

 

“Hope, where have you been? I’ve been calling for hours—is everything all right?”

 

She was starting to babble, so I let her as I picked up my dry cleaning, put down my cup; and holding the phone with my shoulder, I walked into the bathroom. I started the water and still my mother kept talking; no response was necessary yet.

 

After a few seconds I hear my mother pause and figured it was safe to talk. “I’m fine mother, I just got home.”

 

“Well I was worried. That crazy job you have, with those crazy kids—anything can happen to you.”

 

I put the phone on speaker. No way was I going to let her hold up my evening ritual.

 

“Nothing is going to happen, Mom,” I assured her as I started to take my clothes off.

 

“Well I just wanted to make sure you were joining us on Sunday. Your brother is going to pick me up—that’s so sweet of him to come all this way to pick me up when I told him I could meet him there. He said he didn’t want me to drive at night. Isn’t that sweet of him, Hope? Hope?”

 

I was adding bubble bath when I realized I had forgotten to listen for her to stop talking. I took the phone off speaker. “Yes Mom, very sweet. I’ll meet you guys at the restaurant.”

 

“Are you bringing a date?”

 

Okay, here we go. I had known it was coming, but I was hoping I could avoid it. “No Mom, I’m coming alone. I want you to be the center of attention. It’s your birthday. I want it to be all about you.” I was hoping she would buy that.

 

“Oh honey, that’s very sweet of you, but I’m not going to be happy until you settle down and make me some babies.”

 

“Mom, I think I smell my dinner burning,” I lied. “I gotta run. I’ll see you Sunday. Love you, bye.”

 

I hung up before I gave her a chance to say anything more. I finished disrobing, got my book, and got into the hot tub. I spent the next hour absorbed in someone else’s life.

 

Jean

 

The body that the hiker had found was indeed the eighty-two- year-old woman who had wandered off from a nearby nursing home. It was Moran and Jean’s job to go to the family’s home and tell them the bad news. It was the part of the job Jean hated the most. It was weeks like this that made her question her decision to join the police force not long after she and Glenn were married.

 

Jean had met her husband Glenn while she was still in high school. After graduation Glenn had been awarded a scholarship to attend State college. Not wanting to be separated, they got married and she got a job as a clerical aide in the local police station while Glenn studied and attended classes. They got by on her salary and his scholarship allowance, but for Jean, something was missing.

 

She envied the people she worked for. She was fascinated watching the detectives work together to unravel a mystery and get justice for crime victims. One day while Glenn was studying for an exam, she approached him about her idea of taking the civil service exam. To her surprise he told her to go for it. So she did, and she passed.

 

What she didn’t know at the time was that it wasn’t nerves about taking the test that were causing her upset stomachs. Two weeks before she was to enter the police academy, Jean found out she was pregnant with her first child. She was excited about her pregnancy but reluctant to start the grueling physical training in her condition. She turned down the offer to go to the academy and remained at her clerical job until the baby was born. With some financial help from Glenn’s mother, she was able to take a few months off work and stay home with the new baby.

 

When the next class for the police academy opened up, she jumped at the chance. Glenn’s mother, who was recently widowed, was eager to take over the job of caring for her new grandson. Jean graduated the academy at the top of her class. Glenn also graduated with honors and got a job as a chemical engineer in no time. Things were looking up. Jean got hired as an officer in the next town’s precinct and Glenn’s mother continued to care for Cliff while both parents worked.

 

They were living the American dream. They had just made a down payment for a house in town, a quaint colonial that needed a little work when Jean discovered she was once again pregnant.

 

Both excited and brokenhearted, Jean decided to stay home and became a full-time mother. They were still able to afford to buy the house on Glenn’s salary, but repairs would come slower than they hoped. Many a night the family had fallen asleep huddled around the fireplace in the dead of winter because they couldn’t afford to fix the furnace. But they endured the hardships in stride. Eventually, Glenn got promotions and pay raises; things got better. Then one day, a few weeks after Bethany had entered kindergarten, Glenn sat her down after dinner and showed her an ad in the help wanted section of the newspaper.

 

The town they were living in was expanding their police department and was in need of qualified candidates He knew she was yearning to go back to work; she had sacrificed that dream for her family, never once complaining.

 

“It’s time, Jean,” he told her. “It’s time for you to be who you want to be.”

 

It was an adjustment, leaving the kids again and going to work, and at times she felt guilty and overwhelmed. Eventually the family got into a routine. With Glenn’s mom once again thrilled to take care of the children while Jean and Glenn were both at work, Jean excelled and eventually made the grade of detective.

 

She had a wonderful husband, two great kids and a career she loved, but it was weeks like this which made her question her decision to go back to work. Life would be much easier as just a wife and mother. If she wanted to see dysfunction, she could watch an afternoon soap opera. Now the real world was her soap opera, too often than not having to bring sadness into some stranger’s life. It was on days like these she appreciated Moran being the man he was. Taking on the responsibility, being the one who told the family they would never see their mother again.

 

Never once did Moran try to bow out and let her deliver the bad news. He may have been crude and a pain in the ass at times, but she couldn’t have asked for a better partner. She knew he had her back at all times, and she hoped he knew she had his.

 

After delivering the news to the family, they headed back to the office.

 

“Let’s question the uncle again, Moran. Find out why he didn’t mention anything about that stolen car incident. Maybe get some feel about whether he knew he would benefit financially if something happened to his sister and her husband.”

 

“Let’s do some digging first, see if he has money problems,” Moran replied. She’d been expecting him to give her an argument, thinking he was going to lecture her on becoming obsessed with the uncle.

 

“We don’t have probable cause to get a subpoena for his financial holdings or debts, but let’s run a search on the computer and see if anything shows up on public records. We can start from there, maybe something will pop up.”

 

“Thanks, Moran.”

 

Feeling a sense of satisfaction she settled into the car seat, resting her head. It was starting to rain and the rhythm of the rain hitting the windshield was making her sleepy. She closed her eyes and started to drift off.

 

It happened slowly; a strange scent crept into her nose. Her eyes flew open. She looked over at Moran who was grinning, his cheeks red as he tried hard not to laugh.

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