Catalyst

by Ross Richdale

  "A thrashing that leaves scar tissue six years later because your daughter played on a swing at a park?" Koberstein's mannerism portrayed disgust. He turned to Linda. "You can place your jacket back on and return to the witness stand, Linda."

  "There are more serious accusations against Vadimere Wycherley," Renee added. "I would, however, like to approach the bench to discuss them."

  "Why can't it be heard in the open hearing, Miss Bonnett?" Johan Koberstein was the neutral judge again.

  "Because of the delicate nature of the evidence, I would like you to decide on the suitability of presenting it openly, Your Honor."

  "Comment, Mr. Clarence Squartrili?"

  The plaintiff's lawyer frowned at Renee but her expression was unreadable. "As long as I can be present, I don't object, Your Honor."

  "Very well. We'll meet in my chambers. This court is adjourned for twenty minutes."

  ****

  "Okay, what have you got in your little bag, Renee?" Clarence growled when the three were together in the small office.

  "I have evidence to support my statement," Renee replied. "We invoked the privacy act, so Linda could gain access to her old medical records."

  "Go on," the judge said grimly.

  Renee took out a photocopy of a medical record and laid it on the judge's table. "This record was hushed up and I believe a large sum of money was paid to have it destroyed. Luckily, a junior doctor in the clinic sneaked a photocopy of the report and filed it under Linda's name."

  "What is it?" Clarence Squartrili asked.

  "Sperm taken from the pubic hair of my client when she was fourteen was examined. She was a suspected rape victim at the time and indeed she was."

  "Continue," Judge Johan Koberstein stated. His mouth was a thin line and eyes were like steel.

  "The sperm is from her father," Renee said.

  "Oh hell," Clarence Squartrili replied. He turned to her with new respect in his eyes. "How did you get this, Renee?"

  "I have contacts," Renee replied without a trace of a smile.

  "You were correct in asking for this closed session, Renee," the judge added. "Tell me, if we took matters further could your client go through the anguish of being a witness in a criminal trial?"

  "We discussed it, Your Honor. She is prepared to testify against her father if it came to trial."

  The judge glowered at Clarence. "Comment, Mr. Squartrili."

  "If everything Miss Bonnett says is true, I will recommend this case is closed with Linda Wycherley remaining a state ward in her present foster home. Can I have time to study these documents?"

  "After I have read them," the judge retorted. "We'll reconvene at three this afternoon. Meanwhile, Clarence, please advise Mr. Vadimere Wycherley of his rights. If what Miss Bonnett has stated bares out and I believe it will, I shall be issuing a bench warrant for his arrest on the charges of sexual violation of a minor and incest."

  The reconvened court session lasted two minutes and the three o'clock session was also brief.

  "Linda Wycherley," the judge said. "You are to remain a state ward until your eighteenth birthday and placed under the continuing foster care of Miss Renee Bonnett and Mr. Lem Erksberg. Do you have any comments?"

  Linda stood with her body shaking. "There is one request, Your Honor," she whispered.

  "And that is?"

  "My mother, Your Honor. I believe she was a victim as much as I was. Can she visit me if she wants to?"

  The judge looked across the room to where a devastated Lydia Wycherley stood with her face a picture of torment. Clarence Squartrili had told her everything and her husband had been arrested.

  "Do you wish to have contact with Linda, Mrs. Wycherley?"

  "Yes, Your Honor," the woman sobbed.

  "So be it," the judge declared. "You can have visitation rights but only when one of Linda's guardians or an adult they nominate is present. You are not to approach her in a public place and must give two days notice whenever you wish to visit. When in contact, you will not discuss religious beliefs or influence her on moral issues. If these conditions are not met, the right to see your daughter will be withdrawn. Do you understand the conditions, Mrs. Wycherley?"

  "Yes," Lydia whispered and she looked at Linda. "I'm sorry, Love," she sobbed and surrounded by several women dressed with scarves on their hair, left the courtroom

  "This hearing is closed," Judge Johan Koberstein ordered.

  Linda turned into Renee's arms before she moved on to Courtney, Ken and Lem, all in court to support her.

  "Oh my God." She sobbed. "Thank you, Renee."

  "Come on. We can go home."

  "My home, too," Linda whispered.

  "Yes, Linda," Lem added. "As long as you want, it is your home, too."

  Arm in arm, the five walked from the courtroom into a warm Seattle summer's day, climbed into a pearl white Cadillac and headed out the car lot. AS they drove away, Renee noticed a frail, handcuffed Vadimere Wycherley being hustled into a parked police wagon.

  ****

  Linda never had the trauma of being a witness against her father, for at a lower court hearing the next day, he pleaded guilty to the charges filed against him and was remanded in custody to a higher court hearing a month later for sentencing.

  "So what happens now?" she asked Renee when she was told the news.

  "Your father will get between seven and twelve years in jail. With good behavior and the usual parole conditions, he could be out in four or five."

  "I see," Linda replied in a solemn voice. Her eyes reached to Renee. They were dry but serious. "The worst part was feeling utterly alone. There was no way to stop it." She sighed. "We did at the end, though."

  "And that took courage, Linda. Remember, you were a victim. I think at the end your father knew that and this is the reason for his guilty plea."

  "Possibly," Linda replied. "He won't be able to cope with imprisonment, you know. It will kill him."

  "And do you care?"

  "Strangely, I do, not for what he did to me or how he treated Mom but he was part of my life for fifteen years. I can't forget him, Renee. There were good times, you know. Is that wrong of me?"

  "No," Renee whispered. "It shows what sort of person you are, Linda. We're all so proud of you."

  "And I'm grateful for everything you've done for us all, Ken, Courtney and myself. We love you and Lem. If you ever need our help you only need to ask."

  "I'll remember that," Renee replied in a humble voice. "Thank you." She smiled at her youngest charge and reached out to squeeze her hands.

  ****

  CHAPTER 24

  "My God, I'm exhausted," Courtney exclaimed as she watched a weary Linda pack up for the day. The two girls were employed at Law Bonus for the summer vacation and had completed another week's work. "I never knew there was so much paper work to do."

  "Yeah," Linda replied. "I wonder what they did before there were computers."

  Renee walked in and smiled at the girls. "So you still want to be a lawyer, Courtney? It's ninety-five percent hard work and five percent glamour."

  "I do. And Linda is, too."

  "Are you, Linda?" Renee looked surprised. "I thought you were interested in technology and electronics."

  "I know but after the hearing I realized how important your occupation is. They talk about justice and freedom but it doesn't just happen, does it?"

  "How do you mean?" Renee replied.

  "Take me," Linda said quietly. "If you hadn't fought for my rights, the law would have sent me back to my parents and my father never would have been punished." She gulped. "He may have started attacking me again. The right things don't happen automatically, do they?"

  "No," Renee said. "They don't."

  "Jake never got caught," Courtney added. "I'll bet he's still in Florida attacking women and getting away with it because they're too poor or scared to get help."

  "Possibly but he might be caught," Renee responded. "Nobody is beyond the law. As for poor p
eople, I guess half my clients would fall into that category, you know."

  "That's what we want to do, isn't it, Linda?" Courtney said.

  The younger girl nodded and reached for a stack of documents piled in front of the computer. "Perhaps by the time we graduate, all this documentation will be replaced by voice-controlled computer records. You know, 'Computer. Give me a two thousand word summary of all custody cases Miss Renee Bonnett has won in the last two years.'"

  "Yeah," Courtney added. "And judges will be replaced by computers fed information."

  "But who feeds the information?" Renee asked.

  "Other computers." Linda laughed. "On second thought, perhaps I should go into electronics after all."

  ****

  Across the city Lem walked into the factory's panel and paint shop and found Ken hard at work sanding down his Mustang. The youth had a vacation job at Epsilon Products and Lem let him bring the car to be repainted. Every lunch hour and after work for over a week, Ken had been hard at work preparing the vehicle.

  "It's looking good," Lem said when Ken switched off the sander and removed his safety goggles.

  "Yeah, it's almost ready for the undercoat," Ken replied. He wiped a grubby rag across his sweaty brow, stood back and admired his work. The Mustang was in pristine condition with every dent and scratch removed.

  "So what color is it going to be?"

  "Fire truck red with a black strip along the side," Ken said. "Courtney picked the colors. I was going to have yellow but reckon red will be pretty cool."

  Lem grinned. Ken and Courtney seemed serious about each other and both were like different people now. Of course, Courtney always chatted a lot but Ken had been a real introvert.

  "By the way," Ken interrupted. "Who owns that RV over there?"

  He nodded at a medium-sized RV parked across the garage. It had been repainted a two-tone blue and one of Lem's employees had added French Maiden in curly yellow letters above the windshield.

  "Well, actually it's mine," Lem responded. "Want to have a look inside?"

  "Sure."

  The RV was self-contained with a shower cubical and toilet unit. Along one wall was a tiny sink, while the nearside held two couches and a table that folded out.

  "The bedroom is at the back," Lem explained and pushed open a narrow door adjacent to the shower unit. Beyond was a bedroom with a double bed and a small but serviceable wardrobe. "The couches in the main room slide out to become beds. It was a four berth but I've added an extra bunk above the driving area."

  He walked to the front and opened a curtain to show a top bunk in a curved space big enough for someone to lie down.

  "Why five bunks?" Ken asked.

  "Well, I can hardly let you squeeze in with Courtney every night, now can I?"

  Ken frowned, then he realized what Lem was saying. "You mean you're planning a vacation for us?"

  "That's my idea." Lem chuckled. "I reckon we can head up to British Columbia, through the Rockies to Alberta and back down to the States. I want to revisit those Wyoming caves where I met Renee and Courtney. I'm planning on two to three weeks. Interested?"

  "Am I what?" Ken replied with a grin. "What do Renee and the girls think of the idea?"

  "I've no idea," Lem replied. "It's our big surprise. I've persuaded Renee to take a vacation but she doesn't know about French Maiden. So don't say anything yet. Okay?"

  "Sure," Ken replied with a smile. He spent several moments examining the fittings before he went outside and walked around the RV. "Did the name come with it?"

  "No. It was called Mamma and Poppa but that didn't sound like us, so I changed it.

  "But why French Maiden?"

  "Well," explained Lem with a chuckle. "Renee is a French name and she is a maiden, isn't she?"

  "Of course. I didn't realize. She'll love it."

  "I hope so." Lem replied and broke into a wide smile. He had bought the RV in rundown condition months ago but had only recently decided to renovate it. "I plan to bring it home on Sunday. The paint will be dry by then. If everyone agrees we can head off late next week."

  ****

  "There it is." Linda shouted. "I've never been out of Washington State before, let alone the whole country."

  French Maiden had been waved through United States Customs and was passing the Peace Arch on the border. Ahead was another customs but this had a massive red maple leaf flying from the flagpole.

  Lem pulled the vehicle to a stop. Linda stared, fascinated at the different uniforms and grinned at the young Canadian officer who stuck his head in the driver's window.

  "All Americans or Canadians aboard, Sir?" He asked Lem but was gazing at Linda and Courtney who shared the front seat.

  "Americans," Lem replied.

  The customs officer asked a couple more questions, glanced at Lem's passport and waved them through after a pleasant, "Welcome to Canada. I hope you have a enjoyable stay."

  Linda was astounded. "I thought they'd make us get out, check our identities and search the RV," she said as Lem accelerated.

  "He spent his time sizing you up and down," Ken said.

  "Yes," Lem added. "There's nothing like a pretty face to make it easy. I reckon if Ken was with me they'd have had us in a side bay for half an hour and have all the wheels off the RV."

  "Would they?" Linda was all eyes and quite serious.

  "He's teasing you." Renee laughed. "It's usually quite straight forward going over the border but they do have random checks at times."

  I-5 now became Highway 99. A massive sign stated the distances in kilometers rather than miles, the car license plates were increasingly British Columbian but everything else seemed the same.

  It had been a hectic week after Lem had brought the RV home. As Ken had predicted, Renee was thrilled with the surprise. She was somewhat overwhelmed by the size of French Maiden but had been persuaded by Lem to drive it a short distance. They spent the first night on the farm with Jack and Diane and left at six in the morning to head north.

  It was only a little after eight-thirty and the traffic was bumper to bumper as commuters headed to work. Lem took a highway east to avoid Vancouver itself, joined the Trans-Canada Highway 1 and headed towards towering mountains ahead.

  Now they were in Canada. It felt as if their holiday had really begun.

  ****

  Ten days later, after stays at Jasper, Calgary and across the provincial border in Saskatchewan, the five headed back into the United States through Montana. After several more days when they stopped at remote campsites, they drove into the same campground in Wyoming that Renee and Lem stayed at before the accident in Misty Depths Catacombs. Even though it was almost a year since they were trapped in the cave, Renee felt as if it was the next day.

  The log cabins looked the same, barbecue grills smoked and picnic tables were full of people munching food. Children were everywhere, while harassed parents tended to their chores.

  "You know," she said to Lem as he pulled French Maiden next to the administration building. "I reckon those are the same two old guys sitting at that picnic table gossiping."

  "Probably are. Often vacationers come back year after year to the same place to meet old friends. I'll go and find our site number."

  Moments later they were in one of the circular lanes not far from the cabin Renee had originally stayed in and the three younger members of their party went off to orientate themselves.

  "Well, Sweetheart," Renee said. "It's a long way to come on the off chance of finding a jacket but I'm glad we did." She lifted her sun hat and wiped a hand over her tanned face. "My God, it's hot. I hope the swimming pool isn't too crowded."

  ****

  The next morning, Lem rented a Jeep Wrangler and the five set off to Misty Depths Catacombs. The road had been widened and the top parking lot was extended around a new national park office erected at the site. Even though it was still early, a dozen vehicles were parked and people were in a group listening to a guide giving instructions.r />
  Renee accompanied the others into the office and looked around. The small but practical, building smelled of new paint and included an entrance foyer with one wall made into a notice board.

  "Look Lem," she said as she tucked her arm through his. "They've got a map of the caves."

  Lem nodded and walked across the room. "Look at this." He traced his finger across one section of the map. "It shows the lower cavern where we were trapped. See, that's where we fell in…"

  "Excuse me," a stranger's voice interrupted. "It's Renee, Lem and Courtney, isn't it? Lem phoned last night about visiting the site of the cave-in where you were trapped."

  Renee turned to see a woman national park ranger smiling at them. "Why yes. We couldn't resist returning."

  "I'm Stephanie Jelgersma," the ranger replied. "I helped in your rescue."

  "Of course," Courtney said. "You kept our morale up by talking to us over the speaker and later we could see you on that tiny television monitor."

  "That's correct," Stephanie replied. "As you can see, we have made quite a few improvements here."

  "Yes, I noticed they've included the cavern we were in on the wall map," Lem replied.

  "The tunnel they bore through to rescue you has been widened and the aluminum cylinder has been reinforced and made into a permanent structure. At the end they have built wooden stairs down to the lower cavern." She waved her hand. "It's quite a tourist attraction. People come from all over the country to see the glowworms."

  Lem frowned. "But what about the higher levels where the slip occurred?"

  "They're closed to the public. A few locals have gone in to inspect the damage but with this new section open, the rest has been left." She glanced up. "I know you told us you wanted to go there. Is there any special reason, Lem?"

  "I lost a jacket in the area, that's all," Lem replied. "I think I dropped it before the avalanche. Why, is there a problem?"

  "I'd like you to speak to Chuck Nguyen, if you don't mind. He's one of the Native American elders who took part in your rescue last year."

  Renee noticed Lem's glance and grimaced. There was uncertainty in the woman's tone.

  "Of course," Lem said. "When can we meet him?"