I head for the front door. She j
u
mps off the stool and r
u
ns after
m
e, her face twisted with a s
u
dden surge
o
f panic.
“That
’
s not all. There
’
s more. You have to help
m
e. Please.”
She puts her hand on my ar
m
. I shake it off.
“I’m
a
f
raid April
is going to put her baby up for adoption. That’s why I need to know wh
er
e she is. If her father
finds her first, he
’
ll encourage her. He doesn
’
t want her to keep it. That
’
s
m
y
gr
a
ndchild. One day she wants it, and the next day she doesn’t. If she gives it away, she’ll regret
it
fo
r the
r
est of
her li
f
e. I c
a
n’t let t
h
at happen. That
’
s why I’m here, Doctor. Don
’
t you understand? How could I live knowing that
m
y own flesh and blood is being raised by strangers? I’ll look at
every baby I see and wonder if that’s
m
y grandchild. I told April I’d leave her father and we could raise the baby together.”
“
W
hat did she say
?
”
Belle gives a small yelp as tears cascade down her cheeks in glistening streaks. “She told me she’d rather drown it.”
She collapses against the wall, the fleshy part of her upper arms shaking with every sob. I steer her to the couch in my living room and go back into the kitchen to get her a glass of water. Just in case she is telling me the truth about her husband pushing her down the stairs, I look up the number to the women’s shelter nearest her house and return to the living room, glass and phone number in hand. She swigs the water in noisy gulps, but when I hand her the phone number, her face fuses into a bitter mash, and she refuses to take it.
Chapter Twenty Nine
The days drag forward. I greet the
m
ail car
r
ier in hopes of having a short conversation, but he is clearly on a schedule t
h
at doesn
’
t give him
t
i
m
e to console the lonely with idle conversation. He hands
m
e a sheaf of super
m
arket circulars
f
astened with a rubber band. Folded in b
e
tween the t
h
rowaways a
r
e t
w
o bills and a letter from
the Board of Psychology signed by “Marsha Hudson, profess
i
onal conduct investigator.” Ms. Hudson wants to in
f
orm
m
e that she has te
m
porarily halted her investigation because the co
m
plainant is not responding to letters or telephone calls. I am to understand that this is a postpone
m
ent, not a dis
m
issal. It is Ms.
Hudson’s opinion that there is sufficient in
f
or
m
ation to warra
n
t a sustai
n
ed c
o
mplaint and that the investigation will continue when the c
o
mplainant
c
an be loc
a
t
e
d.
On the one hand, this is good news. Only
the other hand, dragging this out just adds to t
h
e agony of waiting. I ca
n
’t
s
t
and sitting around doi
n
g nothing while peo
p
le I barely know
are deciding
m
y fate. So
m
ething
s
m
all and irritating has been bothering
m
e all week.
E
ddie told
m
e
that Ben almost went to work for the Sierra Sheriff’s office, but they turned him
down at the last
m
i
nute.
W
hy would a s
m
all rural depart
m
ent that probably paid next to nothing not want Ben, especially in the
m
i
ddle of a national recruit
m
ent crisis when agencies are
o
ffering signing bonuses and interest free ho
m
e loans to attract new officer
s
?
I call the business nu
m
ber at the Sierra
S.O. and get a recorded
m
essage. An abrasively cheerful fe
m
a
le voice thanks
m
e for calling, assures
m
e my call is i
m
portant and asks
m
e
to leave a message. And in case I am
an idiot, she instructs
m
e to call 911 if my call is urgent. I push the redial number
repeatedly until a
r
eal person answers.
”Good afternoon,” I say. “My na
m
e is
Marsha Hudson. I’m
a professional conduct investigator with the California S
t
ate Board of Psychology. May I speak to the person in charge of personnel and hiring
?
”
“That would be
m
e. My na
m
e is Do
r
i
s Johnson, ad
m
i
nistrative assistant to Sheriff Colli
e
r. How
m
ay I assist yo
u
?”
“I’m
investigating a psychologist by t
h
e na
m
e of Dr. Dot Meyerhoff. Dr. Meyerhoff has been i
m
plicated in the suicide of an officer who had applied to your depart
m
ent but was rejected. The officer’s na
m
e
is Benja
m
in Go
m
ez. I would like to know why your departm
e
nt rejected hi
m
.”
“I’m
sorry. I can’t disclose that infor
m
ation without a signed release from the officer in question.”
“The officer in question is dead.”
She puts
m
e
on hold and the phone switches
to a radio station. The announcer is in the
m
i
dst of a
m
anic episode. A logging tru
c
k has just jack knifed
in the
m
i
ddle of the freeway, blocking traffic in all directions,
a
nd
W
i
ndy’s Furniture is having a parking lot sale on the weekend. He announces both events
w
ith the same frenetic intensity. There is a crackle on the phone.
“Sheri
f
f
Colli
e
r here. H
o
w can I hel
p
?”
I
r
epeat my story.
“Yeah, I know. He killed
h
i
mself rig
h
t here in
m
y juri
s
diction. I heard he got
d
u
m
ped by his depart
m
ent and couldn’t face telling his wife. It’s a da
m
n sha
m
e, if you ask
m
e. He would have got hi
m
self another job.” His deep basso voice rolls over the phone with an easy cade
n
ce.
“
W
hy didn’t you hire hi
m
?
”
“The psych. My psychologist gave him a D+ rating. I don’t hire D+ people any
m
ore. I used to take my chances with
the
m
, but they cause too
m
uch trouble. They drink or they’re way too badge heavy.
W
e got
a lot of
rich
fo
lks and to
u
rists co
m
e through here on their way skiing. They don
’
t take well to the good old boy style of policing.”
“Your psyc
h
ologist
g
ave Mr. Go
m
ez a D+ rating because he was too aggressive?”
“Hold on. Let
m
e pull the fil
e
.” I can hear him
shuffling papers. “I’ll be da
m
ned. Looks like he had the opposite proble
m
. He was too ti
m
id. The Doc said he would make a better co
m
m
unity service officer than a
cop, but we don’t have CSOs here any
m
ore. Had to cut the program
cause of the budget.” He laughs. “I got to get a new psychologist. He
m
akes recommendations and doesn’t e
v
en know how
m
y depart
m
ent works. Anything else, Ms. Hudson?”
“Did you ever
m
eet Mr. Go
m
ez
?
”
“Indeed I did. As you know, the law says I
have to interview him
and give him
a conditional job offer before I can send him
to
a psychologist. Struck
m
e as a one-thing-at-a-ti
m
e kind of guy. You know, take the box to the shelf, put it down, go back and get another box.
Police work
isn’t li
k
e t
h
at. You
’
ve
got be able to
m
ulti-task in this job or you’ll get hurt. Even if I assigned
him to the jail, he’d have to
be watching ten things at once. He was a nice enough kid, but I didn’t think he had his head
in the ga
m
e, know what I
m
ean?
I’m
looking for so
m
eone who’s got the eye of the
tiger.
So
m
eone
who’s going to ha
v
e fun putting
bad guys in jail. Not that he wasn’t trying real hard. Must ha
v
e had applications in all over
the place.
W
hat’s the sudden interest in this guy?
I heard there was so
m
e cop nosing around about him
too.”
“One other question. Do
you know the decede
n
t’s father-i
n
-
law, Mr. Vincent Patcher?”
T
here is a pa
u
se.
“Yeah, I know Vinnie. We were in so
m
e traini
n
g classes to
g
ether
y
ears
a
go and occasio
n
ally
we go hunting,
m
aybe once a y
e
ar, if that.
W
ho did you say you were representing, Ms. Hudson
?
”
I hang up.
I take a cha
n
ce and call the Sacra
m
ento Poli
c
e Depart
m
ent. It would have been a lousy fit, working for a depart
m
ent in the sa
m
e
c
ounty where your fruitcake
father-in-law is the DA. On the
other hand, it was a logical ch
o
i
ce
b
ecause it w
o
uld have ke
p
t April close to ho
m
e, something both her p
a
rents seem
intent on doing.
This ti
m
e I get the run around. The depart
m
ent is so large they have their own behavioral science unit.
It takes
m
e nearly an hour of transfers and disconnects to reach the head of the unit, who tells
m
e in no uncertain ter
m
s that, according to
de
part
m
ent policy and
s
t
ate law, he ca
n
not disclose any infor
m
ation over the telephone without a signed
release. I ask if I
could fax the request for records
s
i
gned by the decease
d
’s wife and
m
ail t
h
e ori
g
inal later. I explain that I am
in a hurry.
“Your offices are here in Sacra
m
en
t
o, Ms. Hudson,” he says. “Just bring the originals
in
person.”
I draw
m
y lips out in a thin line, like a
m
ethod actor, trying to capture the essence of Marsha Hudson sitting at her desk, rigid with contained impatience. “My offices are here, but I’m not. I’m
in the field as part
of this inves
t
igation. I plan on being here several days. I need your cooperation. I assure
you, ti
m
e is of the essence.
It
is
in
your int
e
rest to a
s
sist in th
e
se
m
atters. In
c
o
m
petent and unethical psychologists cast a pall on the entire profession.”