by Kathryn Shay
Dressed in what probably were his best clothes, long khaki pants and a collared shirt, he dropped down across the desk in the empty chair. “You feelin’ better?”
“Yes, enough to be in the office today.”
“Was it scary coming in? After what happened?
“I guess I was so happy to have something to do, I didn’t think much about that.”
“Man, I woulda been scared.”
“I don’t know if you would have. You seem pretty tough to me. Now, let’s discuss how this will all shake out.”
“Yeah, let’s.”
“I’ve set up a meeting with the Office of Children and Family Services for next week.”
“They wouldn’t even let me have a face-to-face appointment.”
“When you get the law involved, they often comply. Let me say that I think the OCFS does really good work. But they can make mistakes and have glitches. Let’s hope you were one of those.
* * *
“Hello, Darcy.” Julianne handed a nametag to the first little girl to enter her room at Westside Elementary. This summer, she’d met with all the families of children who’d be placed in music therapy. She got to know each child a bit, talked to the parents about her programs and left them some printed information.
“Hi, Ms. Ford.” Darcy slapped the plastic square on her shirt and walked inside. “Take a stool on the mat.”
Soon, all the students arrived and she closed the door.
“Where’s the desks?” a boy named Perry asked.
“Stacked over there in the corner. When we need a flat surface to write or draw on, we’ll use them.”
“So, wha-da-we-do today?” Junita wanted to know.
“We’re going to have a drum circle.” She pointed to six hand drums in the center of the mat. “We’ll use those.”
The purpose of this first lesson with her students was to encourage socialization, interaction and cooperation. It also inspired creativity.
Darcy frowned. “I don’t know how to play a drum.”
One child, Mackenzie, scowled but said nothing.
“No problem. I’ll show you how to do it. Everybody can pick one out now.” She waited until they each grabbed a drum, then returned to the circle. “The first thing to do is to hit the drum like this.” She simply patted the canvas of the one she’d saved for herself.
With various vigor, each child patted his or her drum.
“Next, do this.” She made three-pats. Stopped. Then one pat.
All of the kids were able to complete the pattern.
She made up another one, more complicated.
They followed suit.
After a couple more drills, she stopped and smiled at them. “See, you know how to use drums. Now listen to this.” She created a minute-long pattern.
“That doesn’t sound like nothin’.” Joel spoke up.
“It says how I feel.”
“It does?” Drew’s eyes were wide.
“Yep. Let me play it again and you can guess how I feel.”
The kids were wide-eyed but a few contributed guesses, that she felt happy, calm, good. “You’re all right. Now, I want you to bang out anything on the drums. You can stop when you get tired or if I hold my palm out like this.”
Nothing. Then Darcy started with gentle taps. Junita joined in with harder ones. Everybody played and the noise picked up…but Mackenzie. She let the girl observe the group. After a bit, she held up her palm. “Raise your hand if you drummed how you felt, like I did.”
Again, all but Mackenzie.
“That’s great, you guys. You expressed yourselves with the drums.”
After a few more exercises, class ended. Julianne rolled up the mat and put the drums away so she could leave the room in order for the next teacher to use. She’d successfully blocked thoughts of Terrance all morning, but now that she was finished here, it came back…
He said as he was leaving, What the fuck, lady. Who do you think you are?
I’m so sorry you were caught up in this, Terrance.
You will be. I could…never mind. You’ll see, Ms. Ford.
She left school upset all over again. She stopped to pick up a salad on the drive back to MusicWorks. Once inside, she headed to the back room, did a little paper work for the studio and ate her dinner. When she heard a knock out front, she hurried to the entrance, checked the window and opened the door. “Hey, you two.”
“Hi, Julianne.” Logan was smiling. “We’re not late this time.”
“No, you’re not. You want to come in?”
“I have a ton of phone calls to make tonight so I’ll just do it in the car. Have Maddie come out when she’s finished.”
“How’s the concerto coming?” Julianne asked Maddie when she sat in the instruction area.
“Slow. My mom was a teacher, and she was great when I practiced. Dad tries to listen too, but it’s not the same.”
“Do you miss her, Maddie?”
“Yeah. It gets better every year, though.”
To distract Maddie from sad thoughts, she said, “How about if we work on the concerto and play our duet the last ten minutes?”
Julianne tried to put something fun in each lesson for students. Some kids just wanted to play the song for their lesson. Some wanted to play with her. Others wanted to experiment with another musical instrument that she kept for that purpose. It made the time at the school more enjoyable.
When they’d finished a rousing violin duet, Maddie grinned. “That was fun.”
They both stood. When the girl went to gather her things, Julianne said, “I’m leaving, too, so if you wait one sec, while I get my stuff, I’ll walk out with you.”
Julianne tried to leave the studio with her last student, especially because it got dark earlier and earlier this time of year.
In minutes, they were out of the studio and Julianne locked up. Logan clicked off the phone when they reached his car, and buzzed down the window. “Hello, again.”
“I wanted to say goodnight.”
“Did the lesson go well?”
“Like always. She’s so talented.”
His face fell. “Like her mother.”
“Yes, I know.”
He tried for a smile.
“I should get going.” Julianne stepped back. “Goodnight, Logan. Bye, Maddie.”
Though the neighboring businesses shared the parking lot, hers was the only car left, now. She stopped short when she reached it. Oh, my God.
Long, angry lines dug the exterior. She circled the front. On both sides. The car had been keyed.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
She fished out her phone and called Anabelle Sanders.
The Rogers’ car pulled up and Logan got out. “What’s wrong? You didn’t get inside.” He glanced at the vehicle. “For the love of God. Did that just happen?”
“Sometime between four and eight. Did you see anybody out here the last hour?”
“No, but I had the windows closed and was talking the whole time to some customers. I didn’t notice anybody near your car, but I was preoccupied. You should call the police.”
She held up her phone. “Already did that.”
He squeezed her arm, to offer comfort. “We’ll wait for them in my car, in case the person is still around.”
Her heart beat a clip and she nervously scanned the area. Could it be the person who broke into her house? Would he do her harm?
Chapter 5
* * *
Seth opened his front door and found his brother had stopped over unannounced. He was still wearing his uniform. “Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Seth asked.
“Yeah, let me in.”
Seth stepped aside and Gideon entered his home. “Julianne’s car was impounded.”
“What? Why?”
“Because when she left her studio tonight, she found both sides keyed. She called Detective Sanders, who went to inspect it.” He looked around the modest living space of Seth’s apartment. “Can I hav
e a beer? I’m off duty now.”
“Yeah, sure.” They got brews and sat at the kitchen table.
Seth sipped the Molson’s absently. “Was she alone?”
“No, she was smart enough to leave when her last student finished up.”
“She told me she always does that.”
“The girl’s father was waiting for her and they stayed in his car until the police came.”
“I wish she’d called me, or you.”
“I guess I do, too.”
“How’d she get home?”
“Anabelle Sanders drove her. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s good at her job. Especially investigations.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed. “I can’t leave this unaddressed, Gideon. I have to see her.”
“Look, Seth, I haven’t said much about the two of you, but you can’t keep going back and forth like this. It’s ruining your life.” His low tone meant he was serious.
He stared over Gideon’s shoulder. “She’s done with me. I’m the hanger-on.”
“You’ve gotten over her before.”
“I know. And I promised myself today I’d give up on her.” He raked a hand through his hair. “I need a keeper.”
“I’m not volunteering, buddy.”
That made him laugh. Gideon could be a bear when people didn’t do things his way. But he could also be great company. “Not asking, bro. But stay for a while. I like having you here.”
* * *
“It’s up here on the left,” Julianne said.
Detective Anabelle Sanders kept her eyes on the road. “I know. I came over when the break-in happened. You were gone, though.”
“That’s right. My mind’s muddled, I guess.” And she’d never ridden in a police car or had her own vehicle impounded.
They turned into the driveway. Anabelle cut the engine and faced Julianne. “I’m coming in with you.”
“All right. I’m shaky.”
Anabelle didn’t get out right away. “Julianne, you’re a sweet person. Don’t you have a friend or family you could call to stay with you during all this?”
“My mother moved to Florida and I have a sister in D.C. She works for the governor. She’s busy, but we’re close long-distance.” Julianne’s heart twisted in her chest. “I have some acquaintances when I work in the schools, but I’m not there long enough to socialize. I guess my work has isolated me.”
“What about the Casellas? We’ve talked about them before.”
“Carmella’s like a mother to me. I could stay over there but the reasons I won’t are complicated.” She shook her head. “I was engaged to her son and when we broke up, that put a damper on my friendship with all of them, especially his sister Alessia, who I was close to.” Her voice got throaty. “Mostly, I never needed any friends because I spent all my free time with Seth. Even in high school, he was my whole world.”
“I see.”
“We broke up several times. For good, now.”
A wry smile, that Julianne could see in the lights from the house. “Yeah, I have that in my past, too.”
She cranked open her door and Julianne did the same. They headed into the house. She didn’t have the garage door opener so they walked to the front. Her hands trembled when she unlocked the door. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
Anabelle drew her gun. God, was that standard practice? She crept inside. And Julianne distracted herself by wondering what it was like to be a female cop. Did she have a personal life? Did she date other cops?
Anabelle returned in five minutes. “All clear. Come on in.”
Julianne stepped into the foyer. “Thank you, Anabelle.”
“You’re welcome. Would you like me to stay for a while?”
“Are you on duty?”
Checking her watch, she said, “Not as of now. Though detectives work the case, not hours.”
“Let’s go to the breakfast nook.” When they were seated, Julianne said, “Before you clock yourself off, what did you find out about the guys I dated online?
“I got the report today but it isn’t complete. I didn’t want to bring it up tonight after what happened. You sure you want to do this now?”
“Yes.”
Anabelle took out her phone and scrolled through it.
“Your first guy, Tristan Marshall, was home the afternoon of the break-in according to his GPS and phone records. Mitch Preston, the middle school music teacher, was away for a week in South Carolina. That’s confirmed.
“Carlo Monti, the Italian one, the possessive one, didn’t show up in any data bases, so I had to talk to him. His alibi was his girlfriend. He was surprisingly cooperative but just in case, I’ll check on where he was tonight. The last three are still being investigated.” She sighed. “There’s one disturbing thing. We can’t find anything about Jason Zyzeri. You said he’s texted you in the last week?”
“Yes, wanting another date. I did like him and would have seen him again if it wasn’t for this mess.”
“We’ll need to get your computer to try to access his IP address.”
“It’s on my laptop here. You can take it tonight. I have another one in the studio and a desktop here if I need it.”
“I’ll return it as soon as I can.”
“I’m impressed you got all that in four days. You must be an excellent cop. Thank you, Anabelle.”
“You’re welcome. Now, I’m officially off.”
“In that case, would you like a glass of wine?”
Anabelle yanked the tie out of her hair and the blond mass fell to her shoulders. She shook it out with a toss of her head. “Love one.”
Julianne enjoyed their camaraderie, but when Anabelle left, Julianne dropped down onto the couch, thinking about what she’d said in the car. You’re a sweet person. Don’t you have a friend or family you could call to stay with you?
She remembered thinking the same thing when Seth was stabbed, feeling the loss…
“Julianne should go in and see Seth, now that he can have visitors in the ICU.” The remark came from Rafe.
“I don’t want to infringe.”
“Families don’t infringe, darlin’. Go on, take a turn.”
When she walked into the room, and saw him lying there, she started to cry. Rushing to the bed, she sat down, and took his hand. She kissed it then laid it on the mattress. Oxygen tubes had been inserted in his nose and IV lines poked in his arm. Machines beeped and buzzed, monitoring his vitals.
“I miss you so much, Seth. I’m trying to hide it, but I can’t tonight.” She swallowed hard. “I have no friends, other than you and your family. I need you.”
He stirred, and she waited. Nothing.
“Maybe we can try again. Maybe one more time.”
Her comments sounded like a deathbed confession. But she didn’t care.
“I always wanted your children. Can you imagine how blond and blue-eyed they’d be? As handsome as you, or pretty as me.”
The one-sided conversation lasted until the nurse came in and told her he needed to rest. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek and left the room…
When he was better and she was clear-headed, she never fulfilled her promise to him.
But now, one thing was clear. She wouldn’t live her life in isolation any more. To that end, she picked up the phone and punched in a number.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Alessia, it’s me, Julianne. Do you have time to talk?”
“You sound awful. Let me just disconnect the call I was on and I’ll be right back.”
Already, Julianne felt comforted. While she waited, she made a note to phone Liliana and her mother, too. Julianne didn’t have to be alone in this. Anabelle had helped her see that.
* * *
Seth and Johnny sat in the Office of Children and Family Services, the OCFS, facing a man with gray hair and somber dark eyes. Herman Clark said to Johnny, “I understand you were already denied in the phone interview.”
“Yes, sir, I was.”
&nb
sp; “Do you know why?”
“No, sir. Do you?”
The man seemed taken aback. Seth allowed Johnny latitude, because his question was valid.
“I do not. All I know is that I was asked by upper management to interview you.” He transferred his gaze to Seth. “Legal Aid made a formal request for this and the administration agreed.” As if they had a choice, now that the law was involved.
He’d called up a screen on the computer and Seth could see it was an application form.
“I’ll type and you answer questions. You’re 21, right Mr. Cordello?”
“Yes.”
“And the woman who will supervise the children while you’re at work is 67?”
He nodded.
“She had hip surgery six months ago?”
“She did, but she’s feelin’ great now.”
“You’ll provide health certificates from your doctors to document that, and your physical fitness, if we go further?”
“I will.”
“Give me the names of the medical personnel you see.”
Johnny recited them to him.
Clark sat back. “Now, are you married Mr. Cordello?”
“No.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No, Mr. Clark. I don’t date girls. I date boys.”
The man seemed taken aback and didn’t speak right away.
Seth jumped right in. “Mr. Clark, I hope I don’t have to tell you if the application was or is denied because of Mr. Cordello’s sexual orientation, I’ll get the ACLU involved. And I’ll go through the courts.”
Clark sat up. “No need to remind me. My surprise is only because I don’t see many single gay men apply for foster care at this office.”
“An estimated three percent of foster care is provided by gay men and lesbians.” Seth had done his research.
“Which, as I said, is small enough for me to be surprised.” He asked John, “Do you have references from four people outside your family?”
“I have them right here.” He passed over an envelope.
Clark took the papers out and entered the names into the application then slid them in one of his folders.
“Will you allow a Criminal history background check, an SCR clearance and fingerprinting?”
