Mother's Milk (20 page)

A middle-aged waitress in a baby-blue uniform with a plaid apron and matching cap came over to him. ‘Honey, what seems to be the trouble?'

He shivered; gooseflesh popped on his arms. He made eye contact with Marky, standing just outside the restaurant, and saw fury and fear.

‘You look sick,' the waitress said. ‘You sit right here.' She led him to a just-emptied booth at the counter next to the cash register. He didn't take his eyes off Marky.

The waitress followed his gaze. ‘Friend of yours?' she asked.

‘No.' He felt in his pockets and realized that the jeans he was wearing weren't his. He had none of his stuff. ‘I need to make a call,' he said. ‘I have no money. I don't have anything.'

The waitress looked around at her mostly full tables. She shook her head, and pulled out her cell. ‘Use mine,' she said, ‘and I'll get you something to eat when I get a chance.'

‘Thank you.' He watched as Marky turned from the restaurant and stormed back to his van, slamming the tailgate and overhead doors closed.

‘What's your name, honey?' she asked.

‘Jerod,' he said, feeling a ray of hope as Marky drove off. He just wished he could see where he'd gone. Did he get on the highway or was he just waiting, waiting for him to leave?

‘Well, Jerod, I'm Lois,' she said. ‘You call your mother or some relative to come and get you and I'll bring you some … pie?'

‘Thank you,' he said, and tears started to flow.

‘Oh, honey,' she laid a hand gently on his back. ‘There's no reason to cry, everyone has a bad day, just make your call, eat some apple pie, and things will look a whole lot better, you'll see.'

W
alking back to the conference from the subway, Barrett tried to hang on to her half-hour at home with Max – an island of peace in the middle of her day.

Her thoughts were short-circuited by her cell.

‘Dr. Conyors.' Marla's wispy voice. ‘I hate to interrupt you, but a call just came that I thought you'd want to know about.'

‘Yes?'

‘It was Jerod Blank. He sounds like he's in trouble; he said he needs to speak to you.'

‘Did he leave a number?' she asked, feeling a rush of anxiety as she put her shoulder bag down on a bus-stop bench.

‘Yes, but he said it was a borrowed phone and he didn't know how long he'd be there.'

Barrett grabbed a pen and yellow legal pad from out of the bag, and scribbled down the number. ‘How long ago did he call?'

‘I just got off the phone with him. I told him I'd call you right away. I hope that was OK.'

‘It's fine. If he calls again, ask him where he is. Tell him I'll send someone right out to get him. Or tell him to call 911 and have the police pick him up. I got to go … and Marla, please stay by the phone, I might need you to help out with this.' She hung up and immediately dialed the number. It rang three times before a woman with a Jersey accent picked up. ‘Hello?'

‘Hi, this is Dr. Barrett Conyors, I was given this number for a young man named Jerod Blank.'

‘Kind of cute, big head of funny hair, and in some kind of trouble?' the voice replied.

‘That's the one.'

‘Just ran out of here … and I do mean ran,' the woman said. ‘Didn't even stay for his pie, which is surprising 'cause he looked kind of green around the edges.'

‘Where are you?' Barrett asked.

‘Bella's Diner. It's off 84 in Port Jervis.'

‘That's about an hour out of Manhattan?'

‘Just about.'

‘Did you see which way he went?'

‘Hard to say, I was getting him something to eat, turned my back, he was gone, and my phone was on the table. At least he didn't take it.'

Barrett wished he had, at least that way she could have talked him into staying safe someplace till she could come for him, or have someone pick him up.

‘I could tell he was in some kind of trouble,' the woman offered. ‘There was a young man, medium build, brown hair, stood outside, seemed real upset and stormed off in one of those little two-tone Hondas everyone's driving.'

Switching into Hobbs mode, she asked for the details. ‘What color was it?'

‘Kind of a red wine with black trim.'

‘And the man?'

‘Young, early twenties, and the funny thing is I thought his hair might be a wig, kind of lopsided. Wore dark wrap-around glasses, looked like money. I just assumed they were friends who'd had some kind of fight. It's not that, is it?'

‘No, and if Jerod comes back call the cops and tell them he just escaped from a New York forensic hospital. He hasn't done anything bad, but they need to take him into custody and keep him safe. Is there anything else you can think of that might help me find him?'

There was a pause. ‘I couldn't say for certain, this is a busy place and all, and there's a lot of ways out of here, but he said that he didn't have any money, so I bet he hitched a ride with one of the truckers.'

‘Which means he could be anywhere.'

‘Sorry I can't be more help; if I think of anything or he comes back I'll be sure to do as you say.'

Barrett thanked the woman, got her name, and hung up. She pulled up Hobbs's cell number and pressed. She gave him the update, while trying to fight down a growing sense of frustration.

‘My guess,' Hobbs said, ‘he'll head back to the city. He's either going to try and find you or find dope. And nice as you are to him, I bet he'll find a fix first.'

‘Which sends him right back into harm's way. Shit! Ed, we're dealing with something big, and these kids are just disposable bits. I'm at this stupid conference right now … maybe not so stupid, but well intended and pointless, and I shouldn't be here.'

Ed chuckled. ‘No, really, Barrett, how do you feel about it?'

‘What about the narcotics squad,' she asked, ‘are they finding anything … like who's setting up these kids to sell dope in the dorms?'

‘Whoa,' Hobbs said, ‘don't look to narcotics for the answer. They're interested in working back as high up in whatever organization as possible. They don't move fast.'

‘What about the girl, then? Jerod as good as ID'd her. She can't have just vanished off the globe.'

‘My guess … she's doing Internet porn,' he offered. ‘Maybe she doesn't want Jerod to know or … possibly against her will. Someone drugged her, stripped her … God knows what else.'

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘It's disgusting to contemplate, but what comes to mind is white slavery. She was being displayed, like something for sale.'

‘Not so far-fetched. White slavery is real … especially for wholesome-looking girls. Occasionally they find these kids years after the fact, they're either dead, or so traumatized that they wished they were.'

Barrett looked down the street as fellow conference attendees streamed back from their lunch break. Mostly state employees, or else working for non-profit agencies that were funded by the state. ‘Ed, three of the four kids – Bobby, Jerod, and Carly – were products of the foster and group-home system. The only one who wasn't was Ashley Dix, who just happened to fall for drugs and the bad boy who could get them for her.'

‘You don't think it's a coincidence.'

‘I don't know, but I have a feeling that Jerod might. There's stuff he wasn't telling.'

She felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. ‘Hey, Barrett.' She turned to find herself staring into Chase's eyes. In the bright sun, they had specks of gold and amber. ‘Hobbs,' she smiled at Chase, finding it hard to catch her breath, ‘give me a call later.'

‘You got it, and I'll see if I can do a bit of street work. If my hunch is right, the kid is going to be like a homing pigeon back to his supply.'

‘I hope you're wrong,' she said, ‘call me if you find him.'

‘Problem?' Chase asked, as she put her cell back into her bag.

‘Just some kid who got himself into big trouble.'

‘The one you were so worried about?'

‘Yeah.' She broke from Chase's gaze.

‘Anything I can do to help?' he offered. ‘If he was one of the department's recent graduates I might be able to access his records.'

‘Aren't those sealed?'

‘In theory.'

‘But not in reality.'

‘Not so much,' he admitted, ‘especially since they scanned everything and made it electronic. Maybe he has some family or something that he'd try to go back to.'

Why would he think that?
she wondered, like he knew something. Before she could ask, she spotted Janice in sunglasses, stepping out of a cab. For an instant she hoped she'd not been seen, but Janice nodded in her direction as she smoothed down her skirt, and headed toward them. ‘Barrett, so glad you're here.'

Not that you left me a choice
, she thought, her jaw tense. ‘It's interesting,' she said, keeping the futility she felt about such projects to herself.

‘Amazing how many people they roped into this,' Janice replied. She sighed, ‘It's too big, but it's what the Governor wanted.' She looked at Chase. ‘I'm surprised to see you here.'

‘You two know each other?' Barrett asked.

Chase nodded at Janice. ‘I don't care if she knows,' he said, and then added, ‘She was my counselor when I was in foster care. Now that she's a big commissioner, you'd never know it, but she is an amazing therapist. If it wasn't for her, I know that I wouldn't be here right now.'

‘Please,' Janice said, and then to Barrett, ‘You've got to watch this one, he knows how good-looking he is, and he uses it.'

Her tone was light, but it threw Barrett – was this some kind of peace offering?
Show up to the conference and I won't be such a bitch.
‘I liked what you said up there, frank, to the point.'

‘Just words,' Janice said, ‘but that goes with the job, and I do understand that the patient always has to come first. So whatever happened to that kid who broke up our meeting?'

‘It's a mess,' Barrett said, and stopped herself from adding,
he's gone missing and someone is probably trying to kill him.

‘Sorry to hear that,' Janice said, and then looked back toward the broad steps of the administrative building. ‘We're going to be late,' she said, sounding less than eager.

When she turned, Barrett noted how crumpled her silk shirt had become – and it wasn't all that hot. Her skin was flushed and up close her makeup was clumped, revealing the mesh of fine lines around her mouth, eyes, chin, and nose – almost like she'd taken the break to go work out and hadn't showered and applied fresh foundation, just slapped on some lipstick. It felt odd and too convenient – Chase asking her about Jerod and then Janice … and now this coincidence, that she was Chase's counselor. ‘Actually, he's gone missing,' Barrett said, keeping her expression neutral and wanting to see what reaction she'd get.

‘You think he's in trouble?' Chase asked.

‘I do.'

‘Jerod, wasn't it?' Janice asked.

‘Yes,' Barrett said, starting to feel like a mouse batted by a cat's paw. They were both too interested. ‘When they gave your introduction,' she said, wanting to shift the focus, ‘I'd not realized you set up Mother's Milk.'

‘I was extremely young then … and naive. If I'd known then what I do now, I probably wouldn't have done it.'

‘Why not?' Barrett asked, trying to find her footing with this different-acting Janice.

‘I bit off too much,' she said. ‘The need is endless, just a stream of kids dumped onto the street with no place to go, no skills, half of them don't even have a high-school diploma. It's amazing they didn't fire me when that first center opened. Almost every day the cops were there, because it became a hub of drug activity, some of the kids started turning tricks from the park across the street … it was a big mess.'

‘But you turned it around,' Chase said.

‘Eventually … but that's how we learn.' She looked at Barrett. ‘You get thrown into something and you sink or swim. I so don't want to go back in there.'

‘Really?' Barrett was thrown. ‘I thought this was …'

‘A big deal,' Janice said, glancing up the stairs, ‘I know, I'll eat my words. We have to be here … I was still in my twenties when I'd been through my third Governor's Blue Ribbon Commission on the problem of these kids. I was excited at the first one, determined to see something come out of the second, and by the third realized putting a lot of administrative types and state workers into a room won't solve anything; it's doomed from the start.'

‘Why's that?' Barrett asked, shocked that she shared Janice's views, or that her boss would be so candid.
Who is this woman?

‘Let's face it, we make our living off the tragedy of these kids, or in the case of the Department of Mental Health, the adults they grow into. If the problems were ever truly addressed, there'd be a lot of people out of work – the unions would never go for it. To be blunt, the agencies mostly serve themselves. Our employees want nine-to-five jobs for problems that happen around the clock.'

‘But not Mother's Milk,' Barrett said. ‘My understanding is they're open twenty-four–seven every day of the year.'

Janice smiled. ‘I didn't use union labor … or state workers.'

‘Then, how?'

‘I spun it off as a non-profit, half of the staff are volunteers, and I worked my butt off getting the funding – mostly grants. At this point they're self-supporting; I just sit on the board, really have little to do with them.'

Barrett looked at Chase, and realized that he had to have been one of Janice's last patients. ‘Do you miss the direct work?'

‘At times,' again glancing up the steps and the stream of conference-goers headed in. She turned back to Barrett. ‘And that's your struggle right now, isn't it?'