Marcus shook his head.
“Did you ever see anyone beat your dad up for real?”
“One time we were sleeping in the alley behind the pizza place. I woke up and saw two guys punching him. When they saw I was awake, one guy kicked me and then they left.”
“Were these the same guys in your dream?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t see their faces. In my dream my dad kept dying over and over again.”
“I’m so sorry,” Sabre said.
Marcus’ sad face cut into her heart. Sabre moved over to the bench and put her arm around him. He leaned into her. They sat there for a couple of minutes, neither of them talking.
Finally, Sabre said, “Tell me what happened after you woke up this morning.”
“I went down to breakfast and I got mad and threw my plate. I didn’t mean to hit my grandma.”
“What made you so mad?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I just can’t help it.”
“You said something when you came in like, ‘I know. I know.’ What did you mean by that?”
He shrugged, “I dunno.”
Sabre put her hand under his chin and raised his face slightly so she could see his face. “Marcus, do you know who killed your dad?”
He moved his head away and looked down at his feet, shaking his head from side to side. “It was just a dream,” he said.
Sabre tried to get him to explain what he meant, but he wouldn’t or couldn’t, and when Sabre rose to leave, Marcus said, “Please don’t tell my grandparents I used the computer. They’ll kick me out.”
Sabre turned back to him. “Why would you think that?”
“Because.”
“Because why? Did someone say something?”
“They get mad when I do bad things.”
Sabre put her hand on his shoulder. “Honey, parents and grandparents get angry sometimes. They have to correct children, teach them, and keep them safe. That’s why they have rules, but it doesn’t mean they’re going to make you leave because you did one little thing that you were told not to. Adults get afraid sometimes, too, and when you lashed out at your grandmother and she fell, it scared everyone. But they love you very much and they want you to come back home.”
“But I do a lot of bad things. I try to be good like Riley, but I’m just bad.”
“You are not bad,” Sabre said emphatically. She sat back down and hugged him, her heart aching for this little boy. She just wanted to keep him from hurting and take away the eleven years of pain he had already suffered…but all she could do was hold him and maybe give him a moment of comfort.
Chapter 9
Juvenile Court was more crowded than normal, even for a Monday morning. Sabre entered the attorney lounge and picked up the detention calendar. She checked the schedule and saw Regina Collicott’s and Richard Wagner’s names on the list with her. She sighed when she saw Wagner’s name. It’s not that she didn’t like him. He was actually a decent attorney, but doing cases with him always meant you were at the end of the calendar. He never seemed to be where he was supposed to be, and as a result the court clerks just put him at the bottom of the stack and called his cases last.
When Regina walked into the lounge, Sabre said, “We’re on detentions together. There are three of them, a tox baby, a six-year-old boy whose stepmother put red-hot chili peppers on his genitals so he wouldn’t touch himself, and a two-year-old with gonorrhea.”
“Geez,” Regina said, shaking her head.
“We also have Wagner on with us, so it might be awhile,” Sabre said.
“We can go ahead and divide up the cases. I just spoke with Wags in the hallway. I told him to come in so we could sort out who we’ll be representing. He said, and I quote, ‘Just give me the fathers on the cases. I don’t have time to make any home visits this week to see kids and I’m sick of dealing with crazy women.”
“Well, he’s in rare form this morning.” Sabre picked up the reports and started to peruse them.
Regina pointed to one of the detentions. “I already represent the mother on that one, the State case. I represent Tammy State and Bob has the dad, Bill State. This is their seventh drug baby. They’ve lost them all to adoption.”
Just then Bob walked into the lounge and said to Regina, “I just saw Billy State in the hallway. Did they have another drug baby?”
“Yup, number seven.”
“Just the name they gave him alone is reason enough to go straight to a .26 hearing and terminate their parental rights,” Sabre said. She handed the petition to Bob. “Who names a child California Is a Police?”
“State,” Bob added the last name. He smirked. “You have to give them credit for creativity.”
“It’s as bad as the last two names they gave their kids,” Regina said. “They named them after universities.”
“Actually, it was their favorite football teams, Michigan State and Iowa State,” Bob said.
Sabre asked, “But California Is a Police State? Really. Do they blame everything on the system?”
“Pretty much,” Regina said.
Bob was still smiling about the name. ”They can call him Cal for short. Hey, did you notice? His initials are CPS, as in Child Protective Services. I’ll bet they didn’t mean to do that. I can’t wait to point it out to Billy. He’ll be furious.” Bob took his report and petition and started toward the door. “I’m going to see Billy and listen to him rant. He always spices up my morning.”
Sabre read through the report on the chili pepper case. “I thought I recognized these names. This was my first drug baby case when I started here. He was adopted by a nice young couple.”
“What happened?” Regina asked.
Sabre read further. “It says the adoptive mother was killed in a car accident two years ago. The father remarried six months ago. Stepmom apparently isn’t doing too well with little Dylan.”
“Okay,” Regina said. “You get little Dylan. Wags gets the father and I’ll take the stepmom if they appoint for her. I have the mom on the State case so you get baby Cal.” She took a quarter out of her purse and flipped it in the air. “Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
“Heads it is,” Regina said, as she looked at the coin on the back of her hand. “Your call.”
“I’ll take the child on the gonorrhea case. You get the mom; Wags gets the dad.”
Regina gathered up the petitions and reports. “I’ll take Wagner his paperwork. Are you ready on Foreman?”
“Yes, I’ll meet you in Department Four.”
Bob had been running from one courtroom to another in an attempt to complete his calendar when Sabre met up with him in front of Department One.
“They’re ready on the Foreman case. I’ll be in Four,” Sabre said.
“I’ll be right there.” Bob turned to speak to a gaunt, fidgety, African-American man. “You have to test clean if you want any chance of seeing your kids,” Sabre heard him say as she walked away.
She thought about how many times she had said the same thing to her clients. Get in a program. Stay in a program. Test clean. Sometimes she thought if drugs and alcohol weren’t involved, her caseload would drop by about ninety percent. As she walked down the hallway she looked at the rows of dejected people sitting on the benches waiting for their hearings. Most of them didn’t stand a chance of getting their lives in order, and the children were the ones who would suffer the most. They were hauled into court, a Band-Aid was put on the wound, and once in a while one of them made it out healed. But even those clients carried the scars for life and the children had the biggest scars of all.
The crowd thickened and the noise level increased as Sabre entered the lobby area. Most of the people were waiting to speak with their attorneys or be called into court. Sabre squeezed through an extended Mexican-American family gathered outside of Department Three; passed the information desk and the metal detector; left the lobby; and entered the hallway leading to Department Four. Bob arrived within a minute or two and they
went inside to hear the Foreman case.
The court clerk called the case. The County Counsel then announced his presence, “David Casey on behalf of the Department of Social Services.”
“Robert Clark, attorney for the mother, Dana Foreman, who is present in court.”
“Regina Collicott, attorney for the father, George Foreman. Since my client is deceased, Your Honor, I would respectfully ask to be removed from this case.”
“So ordered,” Judge Hekman said.
“May I be excused, Your Honor?”
“Yes, counselor.”
Regina left the table, but remained in the back of the courtroom. Sabre stood up. “Sabre Brown, on behalf of the minors who are not present in court.”
“Are we prepared to go forward this morning?” Judge Hekman asked.
County Counsel said, “We are, Your Honor.”
Bob stood up. “We’re requesting a continuance, Your Honor. As you know, the father passed away on Friday. There are a lot of unknown circumstances surrounding his death, and as you may well expect my client is pretty distraught. In the alternative we would ask for a trial date.”
Sabre responded, “We have no objection to continuing this matter. My client, Marcus, is on a seventy-two-hour hold at Alvarado Hospital and I’d like him to have a psychological evaluation.”
“No objection, as long as it’s not used for jurisdictional purposes,” Bob said.
“No objection,” County Counsel said.
The judge said, “Do you expect Marcus to be released in seventy-two hours, Ms. Brown?”
“I do, Your Honor. I’ve already set a hearing.”
“And do you want him returned to his grandparents, assuming they want him back?”
“They do want him back, Your Honor,” County Counsel said.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea, since he hit the grandmother?” Judge Hekman asked.
County Counsel responded, “It appears to have been an accident. We don’t believe he intentionally struck his grandmother. We do realize something needs to be done about his rage if he is to remain in any home placement.”
The judge looked at Sabre. “Ms. Brown?”
“Yes, Your Honor, I think the grandparents offer the best solution at this time. Right now he seems to need family more than ever. He’s pretty upset about his father’s passing.”
Dana whispered something to Bob. He raised his hand and said, “One moment, Your Honor.” He spoke with his client and although Sabre couldn’t hear what they were saying, it was evident Bob didn’t agree with what she wanted. Bob stood up. “The mother is not certain that returning to the grandparents’ home is the best alternative for Marcus.”
“Why is that, Mr. Clark?” the judge asked.
“She wants to make sure Marcus receives the treatment he needs and she thinks that his needs might be better served elsewhere.”
“Anything else, Mr. Clark?”
“No, Your Honor.”
The judge turned to her clerk and said something the attorneys couldn’t hear, then turned back. “The case is set over for one week from today. Hopefully, we’ll have more information on the death of the father by then. Psychological evaluations are ordered for both Marcus and Riley, neither to be used for jurisdictional purposes. When Marcus is released, he will return to the home of the grandparents. All other orders remain in full force and effect.”
Dana started to complain about the ruling, but Bob cut her off and shuffled her out of the courtroom.
When Bob returned for the next case, Sabre said, “What was that? The mom doesn’t want Marcus to go back to his grandparents’ home?”
“Nope. I told her it was her best shot at getting him back to her, but she doesn’t want him there.”
“Why? Is there something I should know?”
“Not that I know of. She doesn’t get along with her mother. My guess is that they’re fighting again.”
“I hope that’s all it is. I don’t want Marcus going back there if it isn’t safe.”
CHAPTER 10
JP felt a tingle when Sabre’s name appeared on his phone. He wondered what it was about that woman that always made him feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers. He tried not to show it when he was around her and she never let on if he did. So either she didn’t notice or she was kind enough to not embarrass him.
“Hi, kid,” he said.
“Good morning…or is it afternoon?” Sabre said.
“Nope, it’s still morning. What can I do for you?”
“Are you working on Foreman today?”
“Yes, I’m on my way to see the grandmother right now. I’m just about to pull into the driveway. Why?”
“See if you can find out what’s going on between the mom and the grandparents. Dana doesn’t want Marcus to return to that home when he’s released from the hospital.”
“Will do.” He stopped in front of the house, still overwhelmed by the view and the size of the residence. “These folks sure don’t ride to town two on a mule,” JP said.
“What?” Sabre asked.
“This family has a lot of money. It just goes to show you that even money can’t solve everything.” JP shut off the car. “Anything else?”
“Yeah, join us for lunch if you can around noon.”
“Pho’s?”
“Yup.”
JP stepped out of the car and walked up to the door. Frank Davis answered the door and led JP into the sunroom where they had met the last time. The view was even better today. There was no cloud cover and JP could see miles of ocean.
“You’re here to see Celia, correct?” Frank said.
“Yes. We have an appointment.”
“I’ll go get her. She’s been resting. Would you like some coffee?”
“That would be great.”
Frank left the room. JP took out a little notepad and set it on the table. It was at least five minutes before Frank returned with Celia, a thin woman in her early sixties. Frank carried a silver tray holding two white china mugs with a fancy, cursive H scrawled across the side of each one, a little dish with sugar cubes, and a vase-shaped dish full of cream with the same design on the side. Frank presented the tray to JP and as he reached for the mug closest to him he breathed in the delicious smell of rich gourmet coffee along with a hint of brandy. When he took his first sip he knew the liquor was in the other mug, not his. Frank set the second one down on an end table next to an antique, straight-backed chair near the wall of windows.
Celia wore a light blue, silk dress with a darker blue cardigan sweater. Her hair was in place and her makeup perfectly applied, not exactly what JP expected of someone who was resting.
“Thank you, ma’am, for joining me.”
“No problem. Please have a seat.”
JP noticed a slight quiver in her voice as he sat down in the nearest chair. He wondered if she was nervous or if she always sounded that way. He would ask Sabre what she had observed. Celia seated herself in the chair next to her coffee mug. Frank sat down on the love seat closest to her.
“Frank filled me in on a lot of things, but I have a few questions for you, ma’am,” JP said.
“Go ahead,” Celia said and reached for her coffee cup, wrapping both hands around it.
“What was Dana like when she was young?”
Celia’s face lit up just a little when she spoke of Dana’s childhood. “She was such a happy little girl and so well behaved. We’d sit for hours playing games and talking. We lived in El Cajon back then. We were close to downtown and we’d walk to the stores and look in the old thrift shops. Together we’d make up stories about old pieces of furniture or little trinkets, about the lives of the people who owned them.”
“When did things change for Dana?”
Frank answered, “When she was about fifteen she really rebelled.”
“She changed before that, Frank,” Celia said, and although she was speaking to Frank, she didn’t look at him. “You didn’t know her before my
divorce. It crushed her. She was never quite the same after the split. Life was harder. We had to move to a small apartment and I had to go to work, so we didn’t have as much time together. She was still a very good girl, but kind of sullen.” Celia lifted her mug to her lips, both hands still attached, and took a long, slow drink of her coffee.
“How old was she when you divorced?” JP asked.
“She was eight years old when her father left. It was a nasty divorce and I know that didn’t help. Things were a little better after I met Frank. She loved Frank and the lifestyle he gave us. She made new friends and was involved in lots of activities at school. Everything was good again. And then she met George.” She took another drink and continued to do so after each question JP asked her.
“What was it like in the beginning with George?” JP asked, as he jotted down the different ages he had just been given.
“We didn’t even know about him at first. Dana didn’t bring him home for a long time. I’m sure she knew we wouldn’t approve. She dropped her cheerleading and her debate team and her grades fell. She started dressing like a floozy and wearing a lot of makeup. I tried talking to her, but she would just sass me. Frank tried, too, but it didn’t do any good.”
“So, how did you finally find out about George?”
“I went through her room and found his name scribbled on a lot of her papers and on her notebook. When I confronted her, she said she loved him. We told her to bring him to dinner. We thought maybe he wouldn’t be so bad. But we were wrong. He came to dinner and he didn’t even attempt to make a good impression. He was rude and obnoxious. He kept leaning over and sticking his tongue in Dana’s ear. He bragged about how tough he was and how he had already dropped out of school. It was disgusting. He was disgusting. And he never got any better.”
JP sipped his coffee and listened as Celia continued to tell her story, periodically writing notes on his notepad.
“When she turned up pregnant I was devastated. I was so angry at them both but I kept it to myself in order to keep my daughter home with us. But as soon as she turned eighteen she left. I kept hoping she’d come to her senses and leave him, but she never did. I tried to help her financially at first, mostly for the sake of the children. Eventually I realized she and George were just wasting the money. Frank continued to help Dana. He could never say ‘no’ to her.”
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