“Oh yeah, that’s why,” a tall, thin girl on the other team laughed.
“Well, how about we even up the teams?” Jake suggested, joining the losing team.
The kids looked at one another, unsure of what to do. Finally the boy holding the ball muttered, “Whatever,” and went back to serve.
It took a few points, but the kids gradually loosened up and Jake worked up a sweat. “Hey, nice shot, Cop Man,” one of the boys on the opposing team jeered as Jake’s hit flew out of bounds.
“Just a little rusty,” Jake shot back, “wait ‘til I really get going!”
“Ooh, now we’re scared, ain’t we guys!”
The heckling intensified and Jake sensed the kids relaxing. He decided it was well worth the sweat he felt running down his back to see the kids having fun and forgetting it was a cop on the court with them. A few other campers had gathered around and were cheering on the teams. Jake noticed two boys he guessed to be in their late teens hovering around the tree line, keeping to themselves. Without being obvious, he committed descriptions of the two to memory and decided he would ask the director about them during their talk.
Finally, after winning the game he joined in progress and then losing the second he had been convinced to play, Jake held up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m done. I’m too old to keep up with all of you,” he panted and wiped sweat from his brow. He took a seat at the nearby picnic table and most of the kids joined him, either sitting at the table or flopping on the grass.
“Having fun here this summer?” he casually asked the group.
He got a few nods and murmured responses. The redhead who was the first to talk earlier and who Jake had already figured out was Jimmy from Sam’s class almost shouted, “It’s so great! We get to swim and waterski and play games and I’m learning how to make stuff out of wood! It’s awesome!” A few of the kids just rolled their eyes, obviously used to Jimmy’s exuberance.
Since Jimmy had opened the door to talk about the classes the kids were taking, Jake took advantage of his opportunity. “Anyone else in the woodworking class?”
He looked around as most shook their heads no. A quiet girl who hadn’t been part of the game but had joined the group watching said softly, “I am.”
Katie, Jake remembered from Sam’s run-down of the class. “How do you like it? Is it really as cool as he says?” Jake asked, hooking his thumb toward Jimmy.
“It’s fine,” she replied. “Miss Taylor’s nice,” she added. Sam was right, he thought. Katie looked sad and distant.
When no one else volunteered anything more, he asked about the other classes the kids were taking and continued to chat with them for a few more minutes before telling them he needed to get going. “I’m already late for a meeting with Mr. Lindahl, I better run before he comes looking for me. Maybe we can have a rematch one of these days? I’ll come ready to play next time,” he said, indicating his sweaty uniform.
He got a few smart comments and some challenges shouted at him as he made his way to the lodge. He checked the tree line for the boys he had noticed earlier, but they had disappeared.
The camp director didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “I understand there’s been some trouble on the lake and you think some of the kids are responsible,” he challenged.
Jake took his time responding, sizing up the director, a short, grey-haired man with keen eyes Jake guessed didn’t miss much. He was new to the camp and to the area. “I don’t have any suspects at this time, Mr. Lindahl, I just hoped you could answer a few questions for me,” he said slowly, looking the man in the eye.
“Okay, what can I answer for you?” he shot back.
“Mr. Lindahl, I’m not here to accuse anyone of anything. There have been some incidents of vandalism and since the victim is one of the volunteer instructors for the camp, my investigation naturally brought me here.”
“One of our instructors?” the director asked, genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know that. I was just told you wanted to speak with me about some possible trouble with the kids.”
“Samantha Taylor, who is teaching a few of the kids woodworking, has had some vandalism out at her place. She lives on the lake, doesn’t seem impossible that one or more of the kids could make their way over there,” he said, and let the thought hang.
“Please, call me Tom,” the director said, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. With a sigh, he added, “I’m sorry, Sheriff, I don’t mean to be uncooperative. It’s just that after years of working with kids who don’t always follow all the rules, shall we say, I’ve learned to expect that visits from law enforcement will be less than pleasant.”
Jake gave a brief nod then asked, “How did you end up with Project Strong Start, Tom?” deciding to let the man talk a little before delving back into his questions.
“I’ve been working with at-risk kids most of my life, spent time in Milwaukee, Chicago, Minneapolis, even went to Texas for a while. I’d like to think I’ve helped a lot of them,” he said with a half-smile, “but I’m tired. It’s not an easy job. Wouldn’t have wanted to do anything else, mind you, but my wife is on me to retire, says I’m an old man in a young man’s job. She may be right but I’m not quite ready to walk away. When a former colleague of mine called out of the blue about this program it seemed like a good way to step back gradually, keep both my wife and myself happy for the time being.”
“It’s a good program. I try to spend a little time out here every summer, the department likes to be a presence in a positive way. I’ve met a lot of good kids. Some today, in fact.”
“I saw you playing volleyball,” Tom said with a chuckle. “Did Jimmy talk your ear off?”
“He had a lot to tell me. Seems like a good kid, happens to be one of the kids working with Ms. Taylor. Why is he here? Doesn’t seem like the type to get into too much trouble.”
Tom’s face grew serious, accepting the change in the direction of the conversation. “In Jimmy’s case it’s not him so much as it’s his brother. The goal this summer was to put some distance between the two. His older brother William, or Blade as he’s known to his ‘friends,’ is bad news. And believe me, I don’t say that easily. Blade has been involved in a gang in Minneapolis for years, been in jail a couple of times for theft, aggravated assault, other offenses. The police like him for two gang-related murders but haven’t been able to get the evidence they need to charge him. The older Jimmy gets the more the brother is pressuring him to join his gang. Jimmy’s resisting but the pressure and the threats are getting stronger.”
Jake thought over the information. He didn’t see Jimmy as the gang type but knew what pressure could do to a kid who didn’t have a strong support system. “Do you think Jimmy could be fulfilling some kind of gang initiation here by doing damage out at Ms. Taylor’s place?”
“No. No, I really don’t think that’s a possibility. I’ve spent quite a bit of time with him and I’m convinced that, at this point, he has no interest in the gang and is determined to keep his distance. I don’t think he’s figured out yet how to do that, but he doesn’t give any indication that he’s leaning toward joining.”
Jake nodded, agreeing with the director’s assessment based on what he had seen himself and what he had heard from Sam about Jimmy. “What can you tell me about the rest of the kids in her class?”
Tom shuffled through his desk drawer and pulled out a file. “Let’s see, in addition to Jimmy she has five other kids. Katie Jacobson, a quiet girl who wouldn’t hurt a fly. She keeps to herself, mostly. Has a couple brothers who are troublemakers but nothing serious, mostly just do their best to annoy the foster families who take them in. I don’t think we need to worry about her.”
“I met her outside, definitely not high of my list of likely suspects.”
“Davis Philips,” Tom continued, “been in quite a bit of trouble at school, suspended and eventually kicked out of his first high school. He has a history of vandalism,” Tom said, leafing through the pages
in Davis’ file,” but it looks like it’s been limited to the schools he’s attended and a church where he was supposed to be part of a youth group.”
“Sounds like a definite problem with authority.” Jake considered what Tom had said. “If he’s looking at Ms. Taylor’s class as another school setting, it might not be such a stretch for him to want to do some damage.”
“I guess it’s a possibility,” Tom conceded, “but there’s still the issue of one of the kids getting to her place. We don’t just hand them car keys and let them run wild. They are supervised at all times.”
Jake raised a brow but said nothing. “Let’s go through the rest of the kids before we start thinking about how they might get over there.”
Tom looked like he wanted to argue but continued with the list of kids. “Mario Ramirez has a history of drug use, nothing too serious yet, but he has trust issues. He doesn’t have much of a home life, has a hard time letting anyone close. I’ve seen it far too often when kids like him turn to serious drug use as a way of escaping. There’s no mention of violence or vandalism in his file.”
Jake let Tom continue. “Jackson Rogers. An interesting case, caught my attention when I first read his file. Said to be a good student when he bothers to show up for school. There’s also mention of some gang involvement, nothing for sure, apparently he’s just been seen with some known gang members. What Jackson has going for him is a mother who simply won’t give up. Believe me, that’s not common with most of the kids I’ve worked with over the years. His mother attends every school conference, checks on his attendance, even drives him to school to see that he gets there in the morning. She fought hard to get him into Project Strong Start. I’ve spoken with her a couple times when she’s called here to check on her son. I can tell she’s a good mother.”
Again, Jake nodded but stayed silent. He had heard a similar story from Sam. He watched Tom grow uncomfortable as he stared at the file in front of him, obviously struggling with what to tell Jake.
Finally, Tom began slowly. “The last student in Ms. Taylor’s class is Zachary Fields. He’s…something of an unknown, I guess. He ended up here as an alternative to time in juvenile detention in St. Paul. He was caught stealing from a convenience store, not for the first time. It was the first time with a weapon, however. He had a knife on him when he was arrested. He hadn’t used it but it was in his possession. He’s always acted alone, from what the police reports say, which is unusual for kids. Most times when kids get started stealing they do so in a group, feeding off one another and afraid to look like a chicken in front of their friends. Zach doesn’t seem to have many friends but according to school reports, has been in trouble countless times for texting and using his phone when it’s not allowed. That’s something of a red flag for me.”
“Any idea who he’s texting or calling?” Jake interrupted. “Heavy cell phone use could be a number of things. Dealing drugs comes to mind.”
“No, no mention in his file that anyone is aware of who it is he’s contacting. I agree with your guess at drugs, dealers tend to be glued to their phones. And before you ask, there’s nothing to indicate he’s active in any gangs. What worries me most about Zach is the only person he’s had anything to do with here at camp is Tyler Loomis. Tyler has the most serious record of any of our campers this year. He really didn’t qualify for camp, he has convictions in his past that make him ineligible, but his probation officer argued long and hard that the serious crimes are in his past, he’s been doing well for almost two years, and deserved a chance. The final decision was made before I was hired so I didn’t have any input, but I have to say, I would have tried to keep him out.”
“What sort of things in his past?” Jake asked.
“Convictions for arson, robbery, destruction of property, accused of rape but never convicted. He’s been getting into trouble for years.”
Jake gave a low whistle. “That’s quite a record for a kid. The alleged rape is nothing to take lightly.”
“I don’t take any of it lightly, Sheriff,” Tom said forcefully then backed off again. “Look, I’m here to watch out for and advocate for these kids. That doesn’t mean I’m not vigilant or I’ll look the other way if I suspect anything illegal. I believe most of them still have a chance to turn their lives around. Some of them, unfortunately, won’t. After thirty years of working with kids, I have a pretty good idea of the ones who won’t.”
“Is that your feeling about Tyler?”
Tom answered with a frown and a nod.
“And you’re worried he’ll get to Zach,” Jake said more as a statement than a question.
“Yes, that’s my concern. Zach seems impressionable and as I said, Tyler is really the only other kid he’s spent any time with.”
Recalling the two kids lurking around the tree line during the volleyball game, Jake gave descriptions to the director.
“That sounds like Zach and Tyler, both the physical description and the behavior fit.”
“Can you give me a run-down of your security procedures? How do you assure the kids are where they’re supposed to be?”
Tom described a typical day with the kids spending their mornings at their chosen field of interest, returning for lunch, some free time, chores, and structured activity until lights out at eleven o’clock. He stressed that at no time were the kids left unsupervised.
“And overnight?” Jake asked.
“The sleeping quarters are locked with a staff member on duty in each building at all times. There are alarms and monitors. It would be very difficult for anyone to leave during the night.”
“But not impossible.”
Tom was quiet and Jake could see the anger starting to burn in his eyes. He finally answered, “No. Not impossible.”
Jake let the idea fester for a couple minutes before changing the subject. “What about the safety of your volunteers? They are alone with a group of kids. Who or what is ensuring their safety?”
“The kids here aren’t perfect, they’ve made their share of mistakes, but we don’t take kids who have a history of violence and place them with volunteer mentors. Now, I know what you’re thinking—Tyler. He doesn’t work with a community volunteer, I wouldn’t allow it. He’s spending his mornings with the maintenance man here at camp, learning some basic plumbing, repair work, that sort of thing. Jeff, our maintenance man, is a former Navy SEAL and is trained in working with kids. I don’t have any worries for his safety.”
“Supposing one of the kids is responsible for the damage at Ms. Taylor’s place, do you still feel comfortable having her working alone with them four days a week?”
“Honestly, I was reluctant to take her on as a volunteer from the start and told her as much during her interview. I’ll admit the thought of a woman alone and more or less isolated with a group of teenage boys with troubled pasts concerned me. She’s a hard woman to say no to, though,” he added, shaking his head. “She just insisted this was something she wanted to do and that she knew what she was getting in to.”
Silently, Jake agreed. “Did you discuss safety with her? Tell her what to do in the event something might happen?”
“Of course, it’s part of the required training for all of our volunteers. We also do periodic visits with all of our volunteers, stopping in when they’re working with the kids to see how things are going. We’ve been out to Ms. Taylor’s once already, early on, and will be visiting again…” he paused as he checked his calendar, “next Wednesday.”
Deciding he’d gotten all the information from the director he was going to get for the time being, Jake rose to leave and extended his hand. “Thank you for your time, Tom. If you hear any talk around the camp or notice any unusual behavior, I’d appreciate a call.”
“Of course, Sheriff. I’ll be meeting with my staff this evening and will brief them on our meeting. If there’s anything to hear, one of them will hear it and will let me know.”
After a few more words, Jake headed back to the office, making a swin
g by Sam’s place on his way.
8
Just before noon on Saturday, Sam found herself standing in her kitchen wearing shorts and a t-shirt over her swimming suit and wondering for the hundredth time why she ever agreed to spend the afternoon with Jake. She had been tempted to call him and cancel telling him she had too much work to do but she figured he’d show up anyway with a crazy offer to help. As she threw a hat, towel, sunscreen, and sunglasses in an oversized bag, she let a combination of nerves and melancholy get the better of her.
She assumed Jake had plans for them to be on the lake and Sam wasn’t sure she could face it. Moving here had been hard enough but she had convinced herself the new house wasn’t a part of her past and had been doing her best to block out the often-painful memories. Aside from throwing a stick into the water for Rigi to chase, Sam had avoided the lake even though she had been itching to swim. It was silly, she knew, but the lake held even more memories for her than the old cabin did.
She had spent countless hours in the water with her cousins. She couldn’t help but smile to herself as she remembered the diving and cannonball competitions they had forced their parents to judge. There had been an old raft, really nothing more than some plywood mounted on barrels with a couple cinder blocks for anchors, that the kids had dragged out first thing every year. They had spent hours playing their version of King of the Raft, wrestling and pushing each other off in the hopes of being the last one standing and having that moment of glory, raising your arms in victory before someone climbed back up and sent you flying into the water. Sam could remember being so tired and so out of breath, climbing back onto the raft had been almost impossible. At least one of the parents had always been on lifeguard duty, sitting on the beach counting kids, and always seeming to know when it was the right time for a break.
Misty Lake: Book One in the Misty Lake Series Page 7
