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He said she kept calling him Scotty and wouldn’t listen when he told her his name was Chase. She locked him in the bedroom as punishment.

“She said I had to stay until I stopped hurting her and called her Mama.” Chase yawned. “Why’d she do that?”

Beth rubbed his back as she looked at John then me, her eyes pleading.

“Mrs. Smith got confused when she saw you because you look just like her little boy, who went to heaven.” John answered with practiced ease. Raising four kids and having thirty some odd years in law enforcement made him an expert at handling situations like this.

I couldn't have come up with an answer half as good, even if I’d had twice the time.

“Like my daddy?” Chase asked his mom.

Yes,” Beth whispered, “like your daddy.”

“It’s so sad that her little boy died,” Chase said, looking sad.

Just then a nurse came out and called for Chase. I waited while John and Beth went back with him. Beth had readily agreed when John had asked earlier if he could go with them. He’d phrased it as offering support and a second set of ears, which was true, but he also wanted to hear anything else Chase might say, and to ask the doctor to test for drugs.

Chapter 37

Beth

Ialmost had a heart attack when John asked the doctor to run a blood test for sedatives and sleeping pills. Had she drugged him? What had she given him? I didn’t have to ask because the doctor did.

“We think she may have drugged him yesterday afternoon,” John looked at me, sympathy written all over his face, while he answered the doctor, “and possibly last night.”

“Whatever it was is likely out of his system by now, but we’ll check just to make sure.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

The rest of the appointment was standard for a physical or checkup. Except it wasn’t in his pediatrician’s calm, colorful, kid-friendly office, but in the cold, sterile ER. Chase was brave and answered all the doctor’s questions. John helped him take the urine test for the sedatives. When it was time for the nurse to draw his blood, I held his hand because, as brave as he was, needles scared him. John stood near the door, offering quiet support.

I wish Doug was here. I appreciated John’s presence, but wanted Doug to hold my hand and tell me everything would be okay. To take care of me the way I was taking care of Chase.

“Can I have a lollipop?” Chase asked when the nurse thanked him for being so brave.

The nurse apologized, she didn’t have any.

Not getting a lollipop was the last straw. The flood gates opened as Chase lost his shit.

A fucking lollipop. It wasn’t even close to the worst thing he’d been through in the last thirty-six hours, but he was five and his reserves had run dry.

So had mine.

John stepped up and calmed Chase down.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself he’d been through hell and had been putting on a brave face.

So was I.

Chase stopped crying when John promised him a banana split with extra whip cream.

I used the tissues John handed me to wipe my face, while John wiped Chase’s.

“Can we get ice cream now?” Chase asked between sniffles.

“Not yet, Baby. We have to see the doctor again,” I answered. “Then we can go.”

“Before ice cream, we get to go talk to the nice policeman who came to help us today.” John phrased it in such a way as to makeit sound fun. And to be fair, it usually was for Chase. “If you want, we can stop and buy him a donut.”

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