“You can tell her.”
Sabre observed Alexis’ discomfort. She needed Alexis to trust her, so she tried a subject less threatening. “Alexis, I hear you do really well in school. Do you like school?”
“Yeah, I love going to school. At least, I did in Atlanta. I haven’t made any friends here yet because we just started.”
“What’s your favorite class?”
“I like music. I love to sing, and Father says I sound like a canary when I sing.”
“Wow, maybe you could sing for me sometime. I can’t sing at all. I sound more like a sick cow than a canary.”
A little smile spread across Alexis’ face. “Maybe, but I don’t feel like singing right now.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to sing now. Some other day.” Sabre felt like she’d made progress, but she could see it wouldn’t be easy gaining the little girl’s confidence.
“What was it like living in Atlanta?”
“Fine,” Alexis responded, but her chin dropped into her chest and she pulled Jamie closer to her, as if she needed to protect him.
Sabre sensed something terrible had happened to Alexis, more than just the fighting between her father and Peggy. “Do you have family in Atlanta?”
“My Grandma Ruby used to bring me Christmas and birthday presents, but she doesn’t anymore.”
“Is she your father’s mother?”
“Nope, she is my mother’s mother. My father’s parents are Grandma and Grandpa Murdock. They’re real nice and they live in a really big house.”
Sabre remembered reading in the detention report how Alexis’ mother had left when Alexis was about five years old and had never returned. “Alexis, do you remember your mother?”
“Yup. She was real pretty, but I was a bad girl.”
“Why? What did you do?”
“I don’t remember, but if I wasn’t bad she wouldn’t have left us. So I try real hard to be good. Maybe she’ll hear about it and come back to me.”
“Did someone tell you your mother left because you were bad?”
“Sometimes Peggy says she’ll leave like my mother did if I’m not good. And she’ll take Jamie with her. I don’t want Jamie to leave.” Alexis squeezed Jamie tighter.
Sabre wanted to take her in her arms and just hold her and make her feel loved, but when she reached over and touched her on the shoulder to comfort her, Alexis pulled away. Sabre removed her hand and looked into eyes filled with sadness. This part of her job pained her, seeing the heartache in these innocent little children. It drove her to continue to work sixteen-hour days, seven days a week.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure your mother didn’t leave because of you. Adults sometimes do things that affect the people they love, not because they want to hurt them, but because they have their own problems. Lots of reasons come to mind why she may have done what she did. Maybe some day you’ll find out the truth. In the meantime, don’t blame yourself. Even though I don’t know why your mother left, or why she hasn’t returned, I’m absolutely certain it had nothing to do with your being bad.”
Alexis looked up at Sabre with eyes that said, “I want to believe you.” For a moment Sabre almost connected with her. Then her demeanor changed and she slipped into the little, bubbly girl who had first entered the room. She seemed to put on emotional armor and tune out the rest of the world.
“I got to help this morning in the classroom. The teacher’s real nice. She let me tutor the little kids, too. She said I was real smart, and so when I finished my work, I got to work with the others. Most of the kids didn’t finish, so she was real happy when I did. And I got an ‘A’ on my spelling paper, too. I love to help the little kids, especially with their spelling.” Alexis smiled and continued her chatter.
Sabre picked up the house phone on the wall to let the front desk know she had completed her interview, and the children could return to their rooms. She continued to chat with Alexis, with the little girl doing most of the talking, until the attendant came back to pick them up.
When they rose to leave, Sabre wanted to hug her and hold her close to let her know someone cared for her, but she didn’t. She knew not to impose herself on Alexis, even if she appeared desperate for attention. Enough boundaries had been crossed.
Sabre watched as Alexis chatted with the attendant. Alexis walked towards the door. Just before she went out, she turned and looked at Sabre. “That confidential thing you talked about–you can’t tell anyone, right?”
“Right.”
“Not even my father?”
“Not even your father.”
Alexis turned just as quickly and walked away, picking up her chatter where she had left off.
3
Sabre exited the building in search of her friend Bob, knowing if he had finished his interview he would be outside having a cigarette. She hated his smoking. Sabre couldn’t stand the smell of it, but most of all she felt concern for his health. She nagged him about it every day, trying to shame him into quitting.
She spotted his prematurely gray hair above the fence outside the gated area, far enough away so the children from the facility couldn’t see him. “I thought I’d find you here, sucking poison into your lungs. You know, if you weren’t such a wuss, you could quit that nasty habit,” she teased him.
“Hey, I know I can quit. I’ve done it a thousand times,” Bob retorted. “How did your visit go?”
“I’m not sure. Alexis is a sharp little gal. She’s real bubbly and she loves to talk, but she’s not letting anyone in right now. It’s going to take some time to gain her trust and learn the family secrets. I’m afraid if we don’t reach her soon, we never will.”
“Well, Sobs, if anyone can do it, you can. You’ll win her heart, just as she’ll win yours. So what’s next?”
“I’m going to speak with the social worker and see if she’s come up with anything else. Maybe I’m reading too much into this. It’s probably a simple little case we can cover with some classes and a quick reunification.” Before Bob could respond, she went on, “It’s just . . . I see fear in her eyes. I have no idea where it’s coming from. It may have nothing to do with what’s going on in her life right now. Perhaps it’s just my imagination, but I need to help her if I can.”
“Go with your instincts, Sobs. You don’t miss many. In fact, my queen, I can’t remember your being wrong yet.”
“Right,” Sabre said with a snicker. “Do you have a trial this afternoon?”
“Yeah, how about you?”
“No, my case settled this morning. I’m meeting with the social worker on the Murdock case in about half an hour. I have just about enough time to drop you back at court before our appointment. We better get rolling.”
Sabre walked into the cubbyhole Marla called an office, partitioned off like the other nineteen, eight-by-ten-foot cubicles surrounding her, her desk piled a foot high with papers and files. On top of one stack sat a partially eaten box of white, powdered donuts and a huge cup of soda.
Amateur drawings wallpapered every wall. A bulletin board of children’s photos, from newborns to teenagers, some laughing and playing, and others with sad faces, depicted Marla’s life. These were her children. Not her birth children, but the product of her work, and she loved them all. Marla yearned for children of her own, but the doctors had told her she’d never conceive because of the cancer she had had at the age of four. Marla was twenty-nine now, single and looking, her dream of marriage and raising a family fading. She’d always planned to adopt, but her belief that a child deserved two parents made her reticent to be a single mother – and Mr. Right was yet to be found.
“Hi Marla, how’s life treating you?”
“Probably better than I deserve.” She chuckled. “Are you here about Alexis and Jamie?”
“Yeah, I just came from Jordan Receiving Home.”
“So you met them, then? Aren’t they precious? Did you get any information you can share with me?”
“I hoped you’d be able to fill in some of the blanks for me. I’m not sure what it is, but there’s definitely something wrong. Alexis appears to be afraid of something. By the way, does Peggy have any drug history?”
“I don’t know. We’re still waiting on the records from Atlanta.”
“What about Murdock?”
“Nothing on him yet, either. Same story; we’re still waiting. You’d think, in this information age, we could obtain things a little quicker. If we don’t come up with something before the next hearing, we aren’t going to be able to keep those kids in the system. Maybe we shouldn’t – maybe they’re safe at home – but I sure couldn’t stand to see one of them end up in the morgue like . . . ” She stopped mid-sentence, pain evident on her face.
“Marla, you have to quit blaming yourself for the death of the Sanders boy. It wasn’t your fault. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
“But I made a home visit the day before, and I didn’t remove those boys. I keep thinking that little boy would be alive today if I’d made the right call.”
“You made the only call you could. You didn’t have a legal basis to remove those children at the time. You had no way of knowing the parents had a meth lab in their van and it would blow up and kill him. The police didn’t even know. How were you supposed to? Everyone, except you, realizes you’re not at fault. The investigation by the Department completely cleared you. You need to stop beating yourself up.
“Anyway, this case is totally different. We have these children now, and we’ll keep them safe. When we have all the puzzle pieces, we’ll figure out this family secret, if there is one, and we’ll make the best decision we can. You know you can’t return the children without my concurrence, and I’m not giving it until I know it’s safe. So if you have a problem with your department head, or with the parents, just blame it on me.”
“I may just do that.” Marla smiled. “So do you think you can get through to Alexis?”
“I’m not sure. She did tell me her father didn’t hit Peggy that night. She said they argued about Peggy using drugs and Peggy came after him with a soup ladle. When he tried to take it away from her, she fell and hit her head. It’ll be interesting to see what we find in the police report from Atlanta. I’m going to put in a call to them and see if they can help.”
“Sounds good. I’ll follow up with what Alexis said. If Peggy uses drugs, it’s interesting Murdock didn’t tell us or the police about it. Please keep me informed if you hear from Atlanta, and I’ll do the same.”
“Will do. Listen, Marla, you take care of yourself. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.” Sabre gave her a hug and headed down the hallway between the cubicles, toward the exit, greeting other workers as she passed. She knew almost everyone in the building, most of them diligent workers who really cared about their clients, but few as dedicated as Marla.
Sabre drove back to her office to catch up on some paperwork and the slew of phone calls she knew she’d have to respond to.
When her cell phone rang, Sabre looked at her watch. It read 3:03 p.m. “Hi, Mom. I’m glad you didn’t give birth to me in the middle of the night,” Sabre said as she answered the phone. Her mother always called exactly on her birth minute.
“Happy twenty-eighth birthday,” her mother said. “I hope you plan to do something fun today. Remember, this is your special day.”
“Yeah, Mom. I’m going out with my friends this evening,” she lied. In reality, she never told anyone her birth date except her best friend, Bob, and she made him promise not to make a big deal of it. Sabre hadn’t celebrated her birthday for the last five years. Birthdays had always been such a family affair, but things were different without her brother Ron. It had been bad enough when he had moved to Dallas, but his disappearance was almost unbearable.
Back at the office, Sabre dialed the phone and heard a pleasant voice say, “Atlanta Police Department, how may I direct your call?” She gave her name and briefly explained what she needed. “One moment please, I’ll connect you to Detective Carriage. Have a pleasant day, ma’am.”
“Thank you,” Sabre responded, amused at being called “ma’am.” She heard the phone ring and then a deep, southern voice came on the voice mail. “This is Detective Joe Carriage. Please leave a message, and I’ll get back to you just as soon as I return.”
4
R
ing, ring.
Sabre bolted upright in her bed early on Saturday morning, too early for light to be shining through the window.
Ring, ring.
The bright red numbers on her clock read 5:32 a.m.
“Hello.” She cleared her throat.
“Good morning, ma’am. May I please speak to Ms. Brown?”
“This is Sabre,” she said, trying to sound awake. “Who is this?”
“Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry. Did I wake you? I just realized how early it is in California. I’m calling from Atlanta, Georgia, and it’s 8:30 here. I was returning my phone calls and this one came up next. I’m so sorry. Go back to sleep, ma’am. I’ll call you later. Oh, this is Detective Carriage, Joe Carriage. I’m sorry, ma’am,” the smooth, southern voice continued.
“No, no. It’s fine. It’s time to get up. It’s a good thing you called,” she fibbed. “I called you about a case I’m working on here in juvenile court. I’m a defense attorney, and I represent the children in a dependency case.”