Presumed Guilty (18 page)
into the living room of the little “starter” home. In the Valley, where the median price of a home was over half a million dollars, young couples like Lisa and Bob had to start out on the lower end of the spectrum.
But for its very smallness, it was homey and put Dallas just the slightest bit more at ease as she sat.
“I was attacked tonight. In my home.”
Lisa put a hand to her chest. “Attacked?”
Dallas told them the story. She found she was trembling at the end, as if Chad were right there in the room with them.
“Are the police doing anything?” Bob asked.
“They came to the house and I told them what happened. They said they’d look into it, but I know Chad. He’s toyed with the law before. He knows what he’s doing.”
Gratefully, Dallas accepted. Lisa made up the bed in the small guest room of the two-bedroom house. When she was finished, she sat on the bed next to Dallas. “This is all going to pass,” Lisa said. “You’re one of the strongest women I know. You’re holding up under a lot of strain.”
Dallas’s cell phone beeped. She looked at the screen. A number she did not recognize. Her entire body shuddered with a deep chill.
What if it was Chad?
“You going to answer?” Lisa whispered.
“I don’t know.”
But then she decided to take a chance, for only one reason. “Hello?”
“Mom?”
She’d been right. “Jared, where are you?”
“I’m somewhere in North Hills, I think. I just wanted to tell you
not to worry. I’m not going to make your life any worse.” “Jared, wait — ”
But he was gone.
“No, please.”
Lisa put a hand on her arm. “Where is he?”
“North Hills is all he said. I’m afraid he’s going to kill himself.”
Not just afraid. Practically certain.
“Maybe we can find him.”
“How could we possibly?”
“Let me see your phone.”
Dallas gave it to Lisa. She flipped it open, hit a couple of buttons. “Come on.”
She bounded out of the room like an excited schoolgirl. Dallas followed to the dining room, which for the Bensons was also an office. A laptop was on the dining-room table.
Lisa sat in a chair and patted the empty one next to her. Dallas sat in it.
“I’m going to show you an awesome search site,” Lisa said, her fingers already on the keyboard. Dallas watched with a feeling of admiration and unease. She was as far removed from this generation as her own mother had been from Dallas’s. For her, computers were complex and barely tolerable. Oh, she could do common things and even surf the Net, but for Lisa it was like second nature. In no time she had called up a site with little phone graphics all over it.
“I’m going to type in the phone number where Jared was.”
She did. Then hit
return.
In two seconds a result came up.
“We can find out where that phone is,” Lisa said. “All it’ll cost is $14.95. You want to?”
“Yes! I’ll pay.”
“We have to put in a credit card.”
“I’ll get mine.” Dallas retrieved her Visa card from her purse in the guest room, brought it to Lisa.
“You trust me with the number?” Lisa said. “I can order lots of cool stuff with this.”
“Hurry.”
Lisa typed in the card number and expiration date. Hit
return
again.
“Here it comes,” she said. “It’s a pay phone.”
“Pay phone? Does it say where?”
“It sure does. The intersection of Lassen and Sepulveda.”
“Can you drive me there?”
“Let’s do it.”
They drove to Lassen and Sepulveda in Lisa’s Camry, but there was no sign of Jared by the battered pay phone. The sidewalks were deserted. Lisa took the car through some strip mall parking lots, past bus stops and mini-marts.
“Maybe we should call the police or something,” Lisa said.
“Based on what? That I want to talk to my son? He’s an adult. They wouldn’t help.”
“I suppose not.”
“But you have,” Dallas said. “Thanks anyway.”
“Let’s go home. Get some rest.” Lisa turned the car around.
It was good to be going back with Lisa, good to have a friend taking the reins, at least for this night.
I remember vividly my first fight with Dallas.
She was mesmerizing to me. When I baptized her in the ocean, her face was the most radiant thing I’d ever seen. I kept thinking of that story where the sinful woman anoints Jesus’s feet and cries over them, wiping his feet with her hair. Jesus told the Pharisee that because she had been forgiven much, she loved much.
That’s what Dallas’s face reflected, and I was a little jealous of her.
I admit that now. It was wrong, but I was.
Because I had never experienced what I saw reflected in her face.
Later, we fought about that. It was before we were married.
I should say, I fought about that. Dallas was doing volunteer work with our evangelism team, and she could not stop talking about Jesus. She was flush with the enthusiasm that overtook converts in those days. I don’t see it happening that much anymore.
At least not at Hillside.
But one day I told her she needed to cool it a little.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because, well, you’re coming off as a little bit fanatical.”
“And that’s bad?”
“A little.”
“Why?”
“It just is.”
Without any hesitation at all, without any realization that she had no training or knowledge in matters theological, she said, “That seems a little bit strange, coming from someone trying to keep people from going to hell.”
Maybe it was the word
strange
that got to me. But I proceeded to tell her she was making it all too simplistic, that she was missing the bigger picture.
“What’s bigger than showing people how to get to heaven?” she said.
“You’re a little young in the faith yet.”
“Stop trying to control me.”
“I’m not — ”
“You are. And don’t tell me you’re not, because I’ve been with a pro, baby, the big leagues. Don’t play that game.”
I unloaded on her for that. And she just looked at me with these eyes that said she understood more than I did.
Now I know she brought something of her worldliness to her new faith and was more on fire than I had ever been.
I knew I had to have her for my wife. I did not mean to put out her fire.
Jared’s first thought was that this was not his father. It was some actor, cast in a TV movie about Ron Hamilton. A good likeness, but not the man who raised him, whom Jared had idolized, then run away from.
His eyes were not familiar. The assurance and certainty of purpose they once held was gone. He had wounded eyes now, redrimmed with affliction.
Why had he even come? Last night, after calling his mother, he drove to the top of Chatsworth, a place he’d gone to many times to get away. He slept in his truck, trying to figure out if he wanted to see his dad one last time.
He did know he was going to get out. Leave L.A. He didn’t care about the DUI or anything else. He was messed up, and hanging around here was just making life worse for his mom.
Time to cut the cord. And that, in the end, was what brought him to the jail. Two cords needed to be severed.
“Hello, Jared.” His father’s voice was tinny coming over the wire.
Jared nodded.
“Thank you for coming. I didn’t think you would.”
“So how you getting along in here?”
“Oh, not so bad, considering.”
There was a taut formality between them, which Jared grasped lightly as a protective covering, like an awning against rain. Who would be the first to take it down, dare to get wet?
“I really came here to help Mom get through this thing,” Jared said.
“That’s good. That’s really good. How are
you
getting along?”
“I been working. Up in Bakersfield.” He decided not to go into any greater detail. What his father didn’t know about his recent past was best left hidden.
“That’s good,” Ron said.
But Jared heard the subtle disheartenment in his father’s voice. It stretched out in a ribbon of silence.
“Don’t believe what the papers are saying,” Ron said. “I did not do this.”
Jared shrugged.
“You have to believe that, Jared. I couldn’t stand it if I thought you didn’t believe me. I couldn’t do such a horrible thing. Ever.”
You have no idea what horrible things you, what anybody, can do.
“Sure.”
“There’s just no way.”
But Jared did not believe him. There was a desperation about him now. He would say anything. In a way, Jared understood. His father was a man who put great stock in appearances. How could Jared expect him to come clean in front of his son?
Lies. He’d been taught his whole life that lies were sin. Now his father used them for his own sanity. Jared couldn’t really blame him for that. Sanity was something hard to keep hold of.
“I really wanted to see you again,” Ron said.
“I know.”
“Jared, please pray for me.”
Jared said nothing.
“Will you do that for me, Jared?”
“Just don’t hurt Mom anymore.”
“No, I don’t want to. Jared, please tell me you believe me, will you? Can you tell me that?”
Jared looked at the table.
“You do believe me, right?”
Jared started to stand.
“Don’t go yet. There’s so much I want to know about you.” “No. You don’t want to know, Dad. I’ll see you.” “Wait!”
He did not wait. My son.
Why?
Why didn’t it all work out as planned? My family was supposed to
I remember being embarrassed about Jared. When he started to show signs of rebellion, I didn’t want it known. It would have hurt my reputation.
When he got in trouble at school, I sent Dallas down to do the dirty work. I didn’t want anybody to see me show up.
I wanted to sweep Jared under the rug.
He knew that. Kids always know.
I tried to reach him. But I did it with that stupid concept called “quality time.” He needed time, period.
I found that out too late.
Jared sat in the truck in front of his mother’s house, wondering if he should continue waiting for his mom.
Maybe it would be best to forget the good-byes and just go. He could always call later and not have to face her. There would be tears and it would get all complicated.
He didn’t need that.
As he gripped the steering wheel he knew he’d never be back. The last good time he could remember in his life had been in that house. It was when Cara came to his room one night and they didn’t fight. Instead she’d confided in him about boyfriend troubles and asked for his advice. For once he was the one who had the wisdom, and she’d actually listened.
After, she kissed him on the cheek and hugged him, and he felt loved by his sister, and that was good. The last good time.
A tap on the window startled him.
Tiana was standing outside his truck, Jamaal behind her.
Jared got out. “What is this?”
“Hey,” she said.
“What are you doing here?”
“Came to find you.”
“Me? Why?”
“I wanted to tell you something.”
“How’d you get here?”
“Bus.”
Jamaal stuck his head out from behind his mother and smiled at Jared.
“How you doin’?” Jared said.
“Good,” Jamaal said.
Tiana knelt down. “Jamaal, go over and sit on the steps there, will you, baby? I need to talk to Jared.”
“I wanna stay.”
“Go on.”
“I wanna
stay
.”
Jared looked at him. “If you go do like your mama says, I’ll toss the football with you some, huh?”
“You will?”
“Sure.”
“Deal.” And he ran off toward the front steps of the house.
“So what’s going on?” Jared asked.
“Something’s up with Rafe. Something that has to do with you.”
Jared shook his head.
“After you came to see Jamaal that day, he whaled on me good. He said something was going on with you and me.”
Jared put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re not going back, you hear me?”
She closed her eyes. “I just came to tell you he said he’s going to do something to you. Mess you up.”
“I don’t care about that. I don’t want you and Jamaal going back.”
“What have you got to say about it?”
“I don’t want you back there.”
“Who cares what you want? I’ve got nothing else.”
“You’ve got me.”
The words stunned him. But he knew he meant them.
Tiana shook her head. “What’re you talking about?”
“The three of us are going to figure it out together, and you’re not going back. Stay with me. I’ll take care of you.”
“How?”
“I’ll figure it out. First thing we do is get a place. I know where we can go. You coming?”
She paused, then looked past him. Jared turned around. Jamaal was looking at him.
“Can we throw the football now?” Jamaal said.
Tiana said to Jared, “What have you got in mind?”
“I’ve got two things to talk to you about,” Jeff said as he closed his office door. He did not look pleased.
Dallas took in a labored breath. “Bad news?” Of course it was bad news. That’s why he hadn’t told her anything over the phone. Instead, he told her to come to his office even though it was nearly six at night.
Jeff smoothed his tie — red with understated palm trees on it, very L.A. — and sat on the corner of his desk.
“I got the arrest report on Jared’s DUI,” he said. “And I think I can get a dismissal.”
“You mean completely gone?”
Jeff nodded. “There’s a little thing called a driving requirement for a DUI. The person actually has to be driving. Even if it’s only an inch. But according to the report, Jared was passed out in the car. That’s not going to cut it.”
“Any good news at this point is welcome,” she said. “And I have something to tell you.”
Jeff waited.
“Chad, the guy I told you about, he came to my house last night. He attacked me.”
“What?”
“I managed to call 911. The police came, but he got away.”
“This is terrible.” Jeff walked to the window of his office, which looked out on Ventura Boulevard and the Valley beyond. The tone in his voice was so ominous it made Dallas think of horror movies. She was about to be lowered into some sort of pit.
“Jeff, what is it? What’s the other news? Did Mr. Stegman talk to that witness I found?”
“He tried.”
“Tried?”
He turned back to face her. “Dallas, I’ve always been up front with you about this case, and I don’t want to stop now. Are you with me on that?”
Fighting back a jitter, Dallas said, “Yes. I want to know everything.”
“Then I’ll tell you. First of all, that witness you found, like I told you before, is not going to be very helpful. There’s a gang connection, and the issue of mental competence.”
“But it’s
something
.”
“Less than that, Dallas, believe me. I’ve been doing this a long time. But yes, it was the one thing that had any sort of connection.”
“What do you mean
was
?”
Jeff paused as if looking for the right words.
With all the strength she had, Dallas fought against the anguish trying to open a hole inside her. “Tell me, Jeff. Tell me right now.”
“It’s going to hurt.”
“Tell me.”
“Dallas, this morning I received several reports from the prosecution. Evidence they intend to introduce in a trial.”
“What sort of evidence?”
“They completed an inventory of what they found on Ron’s computer.”
“And? ”
Very slowly and deliberately he said, “Dallas, it’s loaded with pornography.”
A momentary darkness hit her behind the eyes, as if someone smashed out the lights with a club. Air rushed from her lungs.
“Pornography?” She could barely say it.
“I’m afraid so.”
Dallas fought to keep coherent.
This can’t be happening.
“You said
loaded
?”
“According to the report, there are over seven hundred images.”
Seven hundred!
Dallas conjured an image of Ron in her mind, sitting in front of his computer with a devious grin on his face. She scratched it out of her brain. That couldn’t be right. The deception involved. She would have known. She would have —
“Where are they?” she said.
“Where are what?”
“The reports. I want to see them.”
“Dallas, don’t go there — ”
“Show me!”
Jeff pursed his lips and reached for something on his desk. It was an inch-thick sheaf of papers. “Don’t punish yourself,” he said.
“Give it to me.”
It was page after page of thumbnail pornographic images. At about the fifth page she dropped the report on the floor, fell from the chair to her knees, and sobbed uncontrollably — huge, lungcollapsing sobs.
She felt Jeff’s hands lifting her like deadweight. But that was the only sensation outside of her manifest grief and shaking body that she was aware of.
The sobs melted into audible gulps, full of more despair than she could ever remember.
She had entered the office clinging to a safety line. She’d begun to think there would be a change in trajectory soon, that God would not allow more than she could bear.
Now this. No more clinging, no more line. She was falling.
Jeff handed her a tissue and she stabbed at her eyes with it.
“I’m so sorry, Dallas. We’ll talk about the case later.”
“What case?” she said bitterly. “He’s guilty. He did it.”
“Dallas — ”
“He lied to my face. Again. He’s never stopped lying! There’s no way he’s not guilty.”
“He insists — ”
“I don’t care what he insists! I don’t care what happens to him. Let him rot in prison.”
“Dallas, let’s give this a day or two — ”
She stood up. “I don’t need a day. I don’t need another second. What you do with Ron is up to you. I want no part of it anymore.”
Jeff looked at the floor. “I can’t say that I don’t understand. Listen, if there’s anything you need, call me.”
“There is something I need.”
“What is it?”
“The name of a divorce lawyer.”