Cache a Predator (6 page)

With as much snow as they typically got in the winter, Sarah envisioned that sitting in her office would be like living in the middle of a snow globe.

Today, she watched the hummingbirds fly to the nectar she’d left for them outside the window. The birds’ colors brought a rainbow splash to the green-treed backdrop behind it.

As she sat there, a robin flew into the window, startling her. She flinched as the bird flapped its wings and hit the glass again. And again. Poor thing. He was going to die if he kept it up. She made a mental note to hang something to deter it from happening again. Hadn’t she read somewhere that a fake snake would work? Maybe she could get her brother to help her the next time he stopped by.

She tried to focus on charting her last patient’s history. She’d met Eva at the homeless shelter while volunteering. The troubled woman had looked scared, glancing over her shoulder as if someone might pounce on her from the shadows. Sarah hadn’t seen fear like that in a woman in a long time, but she recognized it.

Why did some men think it was necessary to harass, intimidate, and belittle women? There could only be one reason—to make the man feel more powerful. Which made Sarah sick. Eva told her she couldn’t afford a counselor, but Sarah offered to help her pro bono. Sometimes helping someone who couldn’t pay gave her more gratification than a paying client. They were more receptive to change and getting the help they needed.

A knock came from the door. Sarah rose to open it, assuming it would be Peggy Turnball, a fellow caseworker from Child Protective Services. She’d called fifteen minutes ago and asked if Sarah had time to assess a patient.

Peggy stood holding a little girl’s hand. The girl wore purple pajamas, and her dark curls hung down past her shoulders. Eyes, translucent like the surface of a swimming pool under a blue sky, stared back at her. The child looked pale and frightened. She bent her head and stuck her thumb in her mouth while twisting her pajama top in her fist.

Peggy said, “Hi, Dr. Sarah, this is Quinn.”

Sarah recognized the exhaustion in Peggy’s eyes. They’d been caseworkers for CPS for several years at the downtown office. The wrinkled lines of worry in Peggy’s brow told how overworked she was, which was why Sarah had decided to go out on her own. She continued to work for CPS on an as-needed basis, especially when there was a child custody case involving a government employee.

Sarah embraced Peggy, then knelt in front of Quinn. “How old are you?”

Quinn looked the other way, avoiding Sarah’s eyes.

“I bet you’re six, right?”

Quinn shook her head. “Five.”

“You’re tall for your age. Come on in.”

Peggy stepped into the room and shut the door. “I told Quinn you’re one of the best listeners around and that you have a horse.” Peggy winked at Sarah. “Quinn said she wants to have her own farm someday so she can have lots of animals.”

Sarah chuckled. “Oh, I love animals too. Would you like to play with the toys while I talk to her?” She pointed to Peggy.

Quinn nodded. Sarah led her to the corner of the room, showing her the boxes of puzzles and books. She pulled out a little chair for the child to sit on. “Would you like to play with a toy horse?”

Quinn nodded.

Sarah stooped to lift the toy box lid in the corner and handed her a small plastic thoroughbred. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to walk Mrs. Turnball to the door, okay? Then we can talk horses for a while.”

Quinn smiled.

Sarah sighed as she walked Peggy to the door. “What happened?”

Peggy lowered her voice. “Seems the neighbor found her in the street abandoned and crying. Possible neglect. She was supposed to be under the mother’s care, but no one answered her door. Her father’s a cop. Divorce situation. He’s been ordered to take anger management classes. His wife filed a protective order against him.”

Sarah’s heart ached for the little girl. Even though she’d seen abuse and neglect before, it still affected her the same way. It was wrong on every level, which was exactly why she had become a counselor.

She’d studied the cop type before too—the power-hungry, macho types—and counseled their battered wives. She scolded herself for judging. As a counselor she was supposed to remain neutral, but it was difficult. “Do they know where the mother is?”

Peggy shrugged. “Not yet. The neighbor thought she might have addiction problems.” Peggy opened the door. “I’ll be back at four. I hope to have a family member or a foster family for her by then. I’ve got to make a few calls. Call me.”

“Does she have other family?”

“Not sure if there’s anyone else yet.”

After Peggy left, Sarah joined Quinn at the children’s table. Quinn had taken another toy horse out of the bin and set it on the table in front of her with the other one. Quinn’s feet dangled over the edge of her seat, her legs not long enough to reach the floor. She took her thumb out of her mouth and made the horses gallop across the table.

Sarah sat in a chair and pulled it closer to Quinn’s. “What kind of animals would you have on your farm?”

Quinn stared out the window, swinging her legs and licking her bottom lip.

Sarah used her soft voice. “I have an Arabian horse named Beauty. She’s black like Black Beauty. Have you heard that story?”

Quinn finally turned to Sarah and shook her head.

“I’d love to read it to you, if you’d like. I have the book over there on my shelf.” Sarah nodded toward the bookshelf against the wall. “Would you like to go look for it?”

Quinn nodded.

“Go ahead. There are lots of horse books there. You pick one you like. Black Beauty has a picture of a black horse on the front cover.”

Quinn sauntered over to the bookshelf seemingly engrossed in finding a book. She thumbed through several until she stopped and pulled one off the shelf.

Sarah stood and bent over Quinn. “Did you find one?”

“I think so.” Quinn held up a book. “Is this it?”

“Yep, that’s
Black Beauty
.” Sarah smiled. “Is it okay if we sit on the sofa while I read it to you?”

Quinn nodded.

Together they sat, side by side, as Sarah read the story and pointed to the pictures. Quinn seemed immersed in the photos and the story, her facial expression showing concern at Beauty’s plight.

When Sarah got to the part where the wicked man whipped Beauty, Quinn stopped her. “Why did that man have to be so mean to Beauty? Why didn’t he feed him?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes people are cruel. It’s wrong, isn’t it?

Quinn nodded.

“Has anyone ever been mean to you?”

Quinn shook her head and stared out the window at the lake.

“I’m sorry this part of the story is sad. Beauty didn’t deserve to be treated like that, did he?”

Tears filled Quinn’s eyes.

“You don’t deserve to be treated with cruelty either.”

Quinn shook her head, closed her eyes, and put her thumb in her mouth, while rubbing her fingers along her shirt.

“Let me finish the story. It gets better.”

Quinn listened and followed along with the pictures. Her thumb fell out of her mouth, and she leaned in closer to Sarah, seemingly more relaxed.

When Sarah read the part where Don came back into Beauty’s life, Quinn sighed. “Daddy says sometime we’ll all be together in heaven—even if he dies first, or Mommy does.”

“What else does your daddy say?”

“That he loves me more.”

“Has he ever made you feel uncomfortable?”

Quinn looked at the ceiling, putting her index finger on her temple, a grown-up thinking pose. “No, he always makes me more comfortable … like he covers me with a blanket when I’m cold, and he makes chocolate chip cookies on Fridays.”

“Has he ever gotten angry at you?”

“Not at me. Just Mom.” Quinn rolled her eyes.

“What does he do when he’s angry?”

Quinn giggled. “Sometimes he throws things. Like one time he threw a coffee cup, and it broke into pieces all over the floor.”

“Has he ever touched you in a place you didn’t want him to touch you?”

“Sometimes when my pee-pee …” She stopped and whispered, pointing to her bottom. “… gets sore, he puts Vaseline on it and it tickles. But he doesn’t laugh. He says”—she changed her voice to a low, deep one—“‘keep your underwear off so your bottom can breathe tonight.’ He doesn’t know that bottoms don’t breathe, do they?”

Sarah laughed. “I think all skin needs air, but it doesn’t breathe the way you’re thinking.” Sarah cleared her throat and reached into a basket. She pulled out two cloth dolls. A girl and a boy. She handed them to Quinn. “Go ahead. You can play with them.”

Quinn took them and danced them in her lap. “Is he the daddy and she the little girl?”

“They can be anyone you want them to be.”

“Then I’ll make the girl my mommy and this man, uh, my dad.” She danced the puppets in front of her, resting them on her legs. She laid the girl down on her back and snorted. “She’s snoring.”

“Do you think you can show me what happened today using the dolls?”

Quinn moved the boy doll over to the girl, and changed her voice to reflect a man’s. “It’s time to get up for work. You can’t be late again.” She rolled the girl onto her stomach, grunting as she turned her. She danced the boy along her other side and became so absorbed in her playing, she seemed to forget Sarah. The boy doll paced back and forth, put his hand on his head, went back to talk to the girl, but the girl never moved.

When it looked like Quinn was finished playing, Sarah spoke. “It looked like you were having fun. Can you tell me the story?”

Quinn explained how the mom wanted to sleep and the dad wanted her to wake up, but she couldn’t.

Sarah said, “Has that ever happened to your mom?”

Quinn nodded.

“How did that make you feel?”

Quinn shrugged and looked out at the lake.

Sarah changed tactics. “Let’s play a game. Do you like games?”

Quinn smiled and nodded.

“Tell me something that makes you laugh.”

Quinn placed a finger on her chin and looked up at the ceiling. “Max, my dog, when he chases his tail. He looks goofy.”

Sarah laughed but stopped when she noticed Quinn’s frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Max is gone.”

“Where did he go?”

“He followed Uncle Mark out of the house and down the street. I watched him from my window until he disappeared.”

“Who’s Uncle Mark?”

Quinn shrugged. “I think he’s Mommy’s brother.”

“I’m sorry. You love Max a lot, don’t you?”

Quinn nodded.

“What about your uncle? Is he nice to you?”

Quinn’s lower lip quivered, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “He makes Mommy angry.”

“How?”

“He makes Mommy yell.”

“Did he make her yell today?”

Quinn nodded again, tears filling her eyes. She brushed them with the backs of her hands. “That’s when she locked me in my room.”

“I’m sorry.” Sarah reached for her hand. “Were you scared?”

Quinn’s shoulders shook. “I peeked under the door, and Max was there, scratching. I heard him breathe like this:
hmph
. And I cried, ‘Mommy, Mommy, let me out.’ But Max barked and Uncle Mark left. I said, ‘Max, come here.’ But he didn’t sniff under the door anymore. That’s when I went to my window.”

“What did you do then?”

“I opened it like Daddy showed me. Like when we practice fire drills.” Tears trickled down her face.

Sarah handed Quinn a tissue and patted her hand. “I’m sorry. I would cry, too, if someone locked me in a room.”

Quinn wiped her eyes.

Sarah danced the girl doll on the sofa next to Quinn. “Do you want to pretend this doll is you?”

She nodded.

“Show me what happened next.” Sarah gave her the other girl doll.

Quinn took the momma doll. “You have to go to your room. You’re making too much noise.” Then she changed her voice. “No, Mommy. I’ll be quiet. I promise.” She moved the doll and disguised her voice again but made the words slow and slurred, acting sleepy. “Go now. Just for a little while. Play in your room.”

Quinn looked up at Sarah and said, “I didn’t want to go. I didn’t do anything wrong. Why did she make me go to my room when Uncle Mark came over? I heard them talking, and I banged on the door, but Mommy wouldn’t open it. I cried really, really hard. But no one came. That’s when I opened my window.”

“Then what happened?”

“I saw Uncle Mark’s car driving away and Max chasing it down the street. I jumped out my window and chased after him, calling his name, but I couldn’t catch him.” She cuddled up next to Sarah, clasping Sarah’s sleeve tightly in her fist. Then she put her thumb in her mouth.

“I’m sorry you felt sad and you miss Max. I bet he’ll find his way home soon, because dogs don’t forget where they live, and he loves you. I can tell.”

Quinn smiled so big her thumb fell out of her mouth.

Sarah said, “What’s your favorite thing you like to do?”

Quinn shrugged.

“Do you like ice cream?”

Quinn nodded.

Sarah put her hand out to high-five Quinn. “I happen to have some in my freezer—Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough. Want some?”

Quinn high-fived Sarah and scrambled off the sofa. “Yes!”

#

When Peggy arrived to take Quinn to the sheriff’s office, Quinn climbed into Sarah’s lap, knocking her ice cream bowl to the floor. Sarah felt Quinn’s legs tremble against hers.

She held her and explained, “Peggy’s going to take you to the sheriff’s office. There’s a room there where you can wait until they find a safe place for you to go to—just for a while. The room has a TV and tables and chairs. There’s a DVD player there too, so you’ll get to watch a movie. You’ll only be there a few hours.”

“Will Daddy be there?”

Sarah turned to Peggy. “Probably not today, but maybe you could see him tomorrow.”

Peggy nodded. “We might be able to arrange that. I know he wants to see you too.”

With tears in her eyes, Quinn said, “Can’t I stay here with you?” She slid her hand into Sarah’s and held it tight.

Sarah looked at Peggy, overcome with emotion. She couldn’t let the child stay, but Quinn had moved her in a way she’d never been moved before. Why did parents neglect their children? Sarah fumbled for words and stroked Quinn’s arm. “Not today, but I’ll see you again soon.” She was supposed to stay unbiased, but she hoped Quinn’s mother’s rights would be terminated until she could start acting like a mother.