Dare to Trust (17 page)

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Authors: R Gendreau-Webb

BOOK: Dare to Trust
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Those first ten years were mostly happy ones. They resided on the outskirts of Boston, with their parents who seemed to love each other but had never married. Their father worked a construction job while their mother worked at a local store part-time, to help make ends meet. All was well until Dad started to screw the construction company’s secretary. He claimed he was in love. Their mother threw him out, he was fired from his job and the children didn’t see much of him after that.

The next year or so was a struggle. Life had changed drastically; no more smiles on their mother’s face and no more holiday celebrations or family dinners. Everyday seemed to be a struggle. Their mother tried to earn enough money to support her family, working long hours at the store. She received no help from their father; she didn’t even know what state he had moved to. Mikey took on more and more responsibility as time went by; assuring his sister was fed, took her baths, had clean clothes and did her homework. Mikey was convinced that both he and his sister’s success were linked with doing well in school, going to college and succeeding in careers.

“Mikey, I have to work late tonight,” his mother told him as she was grabbing her coat and purse. She was on her way out of the apartment to walk the three blocks to the bus station. “I left a grocery list with money on the counter. Could you please pick those things up after school?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Great, have a good day.” She kissed his cheek and flew out the door.

Their mother never came home. The first night, Mikey wondered if she had decided to leave, like their father had. By the end of the week, Mikey had rationalized that something had to have happened to her. Her boss had called, leaving a few messages, inquiring why she hadn’t showed up at work. By the third message, her boss had been angry, threatening to fire her.  It wasn’t until the rent was due that anyone realized the two children had been living alone, their mother missing. Upon understanding the situation, the landlord, upset that he would be out of a month’s rent, called the authorities and the children were placed in state foster care.

The first family that took them in showed little affection; they were after the check. The first night there, Mikey and Caroline had been shown to a room they were to share containing two bare twin mattresses and little else. The woman had thrust sheets and blankets into Mikey’s hands and told him he could make up the beds. For dinner, the woman brought a tray to the room with two glasses of water and two sandwiches. Nothing more. At bedtime, it was the first night of many that Mikey tried to comfort his sobbing sister and hold her until she fell asleep.

The family had three kids of their own and paid little attention to the foster kids. Their days were filled with school and trying to be invisible. It was crystal clear that the family wanted nothing to do with the pair, just the state money to house them. They were given shelter and fed. Nothing more. Mikey spent each night before going to sleep convincing his sister everything was going to be alright. Caroline wanted her mother and Mikey had no explanation to give her. Nobody knew what had happened to her.

They hadn’t had to change schools until they were moved to the next foster family. And a few months after arriving there, they were told they would move again, but this time they were to be separated. Mikey fought the decision, but at age twelve, had little power or influence to do anything about it. When he turned sixteen, he felt he did. Mikey applied to be emancipated and he planned on getting Caroline out of the foster system and has her live with him.

Mikey went in front of the Honorable Stewart Howard shortly after his sixteenth birthday. The judge had briefly reviewed the legal documents and had essentially already made up his mind. The kid had lived in foster homes for the past few years---what was a few more?

“Your Honor, I have a job and I am on the Deans’ list at school. I can support myself and I have started to apply to colleges. I want to get my sister out of foster care. We’ve been separated for four years and I want---“

“I have read the paperwork, Michael,” Judge Howard informed the teen. “I applaud your efforts with work and school. But I am denying your petition. If you want to be reunited with your sister at age eighteen, so be it.” The judge hammered his gavel. The decision was final.

***

Caroline had grown into an attractive young woman. She looked a lot like her mother had, long legs, long dark hair and wide eyes with long lashes. She no longer looked like a girl. She had the breasts and curves of a woman.

Her foster parents paid her little attention. They collected the money from the state for allowing her to live in their home. She had a roof over her head, food and basics. No extras and no affection.

She sought the affection from the boys in her school. Caroline hung with the ‘wrong crowd’. She had already lost her virginity, been drunk on several occasions and when it was available, smoked pot. She had even tried cocaine once.

Mikey’s visits with his sister were infrequent. They talked on the phone but Caroline lied to her brother. Mikey had no idea that Caroline had turned to drinking, drugs and sex. In his eyes, she was still a twelve year old little girl.

“Interested in coming to a late night party at my place?” Shawn was a senior and Caroline was happy he was asking her.

“Sure,” she agreed.

“We’ll have some fun, baby,” he promised.

There was no party. Shawn had wanted a good time and knew Caroline was good for one. She had quite the reputation; she was the topic of conversation in the boys’ locker room on a regular basis. His parents were away and he had the house to himself. Once Caroline arrived, in her short skirt and low cut blouse, he plied her with alcohol. Shawn knew where the key to the liquor cabinet was, and he let Caroline help herself.

“You’re drunk,” he told her as he led her into his bedroom.

“Soooo.” Caroline could barely walk. She leaned into him and let him guide her. Once in the bedroom, she was on her back, against his mattress. He wasted no time, pulling up her skirt and ripping off her underwear. Caroline seemed oblivious to what Shawn was doing. Once he had a condom on, he plowed into her and had his way.

Caroline had passed out during the deed. Once he had finished and rolled off her, Shawn had gone and taken a shower. He figured he’d let her sleep it off and later, he could have her again. Out of the shower, Shawn peeked in on her. Caroline was still asleep. He watched TV for a few hours and realized he hadn’t heard Caroline stir. And he was horny again. Shawn went into his room, thinking he would wake her up. He found her in his bed, cold and dead. 

Mikey didn’t hear about his sister’s death for over a week. Usually, they talked on the phone a few times a week. They only saw each other sporadically every few months. It was the day before Mikey was supposed to have lunch with Caroline that he was told the news. He had missed the funeral and had never been able to say goodbye.

If that fuckin’ judge had let me be on my own---she would have been living with me! She’d still be alive! Hate coursed through Mikey. He had lost his father, then his mother, and although there had been a missing persons case opened, she had never been found. Mikey figured she had to be dead. And now so was Caroline. Yeah, that judge is gonna pay, Mikey promised.

The first sliver of hope in revenge happened a few years later. Judge Howard had suffered a sudden, fatal heart attack. Mikey read about it in the Boston Herald. Accompanying the newspaper article was a picture of the judge’s widow and only son at the grave site during the funeral ceremony. At the end of the article, there was a mention that the son was not following in his father’s footsteps; he had plans on becoming a law enforcement officer. Up until now, Mikey had been working odd jobs, floating through life. Now, there was purpose. He was going to the police academy.

Mikey finished the police academy and managed to get himself assigned to the same precinct as the Howard kid. Both were beat cops. Mikey first met Jason when they had both responded to a store burglary in the dawn hours. He had recognized Jason as the same man from the newspaper photo. Although it had irritated him, Mikey had been impressed with Jason’s thorough crime scene assessment and confidence. A small voice within Mikey asked if perhaps, Jason wasn’t cruel like his old man had been. And then another, louder, stronger voice screamed that it didn’t matter. The Howards owed him and he intended to collect on that debt.

 

THE PRESENT

X.

Durrell was pissed. He had been calling Detective Howard for two days, leaving messages, yet, there had been no response. Was Howard stupid or guilty as hell? He wasn’t sure. But Howard had already been MIA for the first scheduled questioning with internal affairs. He had one second chance and it looked like he would blow it. The meeting was this afternoon and Durrell still hadn’t talked to Jason.
Where the hell was he?!
They don’t pay me enough to babysit this prima donna, Durrell thought.

The first snow began to fall as Mia made coffee. She had the day off and intended to spend it with Jason. She had planned on grocery shopping and driving the forty-five minutes to the nearest mall. The snow had dashed those plans; it was too cold and the roads to slick.

With the coffee brewing, Mia padded into the bedroom where Jason hadn’t gotten up yet. She slipped back into bed and kissed him. His eyes opened and he smiled. “Morning.”

“Good Morning.” She snuggled against him under the down comforter. “I’m making coffee. I was hoping you’d make a fire. Winter is here.”

Jason rubbed his eyes and glanced out of the bank of windows that overlooked the backyard and gave a peek of the ocean. He saw thick, fluffy white flakes falling to the ground.

He wrapped his arms around Mia and smiled again. “If you want a fire, I will make sure you have one.”

“Good.” Mia disentangled herself from Jason and returned to the kitchen. Jason stretched and moved out from the warmth of the bed covers, reaching for his jeans and T-shirt that were on the bedroom floor. “How do you want your eggs?” Mia called from the kitchen.

              Jason didn’t answer right away; he had checked his cell and saw the missed call from the union rep. Shit. I am not going back today, he thought as he played the voicemail. That’s exactly what they expected. “Screw ‘em,” he muttered out loud.

              “What?” Mia asked from the other room.

              “Ah…scrambled,” Jason answered, deciding not to tell her about the voicemail. No need to ruin the day. He headed into the living room to start the fire.

              They spent the day in front of the fire, curled up on the couch watching old movies. Jason had gone outside once, after lunch, and shoveled the porch and a path out to the garage. He had cleared around both cars and was anxious to finish and get back inside in front of the fire. The winds coming up off the harbor intensified the cold and even with several layers under his jacket, Jason found himself shivering.

He had just gotten back inside, and taken a quick hot shower. He was in the process of dressing when he heard Mia’s soft voice talking to someone. Who would come out on a day like this? Jason threw the clothes on and went into the kitchen.

Mia stood her straight back against the kitchen counter, arms crossed on her chest, with a weary look on her face. She was discussing---no, arguing with Lt. Ross. “You can’t just keep coming here and harassing. You searched the place and found nothing. And that’s what you’ll keep finding.”

“I appreciate your candor, Dr. Hitchcock, but I am not here to search today.”

“Then what? Can’t you leave us alone?” The irritation in her voice couldn’t be missed.

Lt. Ross looked away from Mia and towards Jason as he entered the kitchen. “What do you want?” Jason demanded. “I asked you to leave her out of this.” His jaw was firmly set as he tried to maintain control. Lately, his temper had flared all too often.

“I am not here regarding the doctor,” Ross answered. “I need you to come down to the police station with me.”

“Really?” Things were getting too surreal. “And if I refuse?” asked Jason, testing the waters.

Ross sighed. “Then I’ll put you under arrest and bring you down to the station. Make it easy. Just grab your coat and come with me willingly.”

Panic rose in Mia. What was going on? There was no way Jason could be involved in the poisoning---why didn’t they see that?! Jason recognized the look on her face and silently condemned the Lt. “It’s going to be okay,” he told Mia as he took her into his arms for a quick hug. “I’m gonna go with him and not make a scene, okay? Trust me, baby, it’s gonna be fine.” He pulled away and looked into her anxious eyes. “Okay?” Jason repeated.

“Should I call a lawyer?” she asked him. Mia had no idea what she was supposed to do in such a situation.

“I’ll let you know.” Jason grabbed his jacket that he had draped over one of the kitchen chairs, still damp from the snow and slipped it on. Mia watched as he exited and Lt. Ross guided Jason into the back seat of the police cruiser. She felt nauseous as they drove away.

The two men were quiet on the short ride to the police station. The brick building was old; it had been built over a century ago and the façade showed its age. Jason studied it intently as the police cruiser pulled up in front. He was trying to concentrate on anything but his currently reality and his growing nausea.

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