Page 9 of The Consequences of Love and Vengeance

“Sure.” I lean forward, planting my elbows on my desk. “She accused the child’s father of wanting to harm her and their baby. The mother claims he isn’t happy about the child’s existence. I’ll be speaking to my superior after this call, but we will be investigating her claims as well as some others she made.”

Silence.

“Mrs. Hearn, are you there?”

“Yes, Detective, I’m here. My apologies. I was processing what you told me. And...” Again, she pauses, which gives me an uneasy feeling. I’m about to ask her when she proceeds. “Based on the information you’ve given me, I can’t place the child with a foster family. Not knowing what I know now.” She sighs. “If there is danger involved, I can’t put someone else or other children in harm’s way. I hope you understand this.”

She sounds sincere, but what does that mean for Gabriel? Where is he supposed to go now?

“Okay,” I say for the lack of not knowing what else to say. “Mrs. Hearn, if Child Services cannot take him, then what am I supposed to do with him?”

He can’t stay here.

“My suggestion would be to do as you mentioned, speak to your superior. Protective custody sounds like it would be better suited for the child in this circumstance.”

I allow her advice to sink in.

Protective custody.

He’s young and parentless. I’m not sure I agree with her on this. Gabriel needs a loving family to care for him.

“Are you positive you don’t have anyone that can take him? Even if it is just over the weekend? I’m not convinced that protective custody is the right call for this little boy. He’s an infant and—”

“Ahem.”

I jerk my head toward that sound. Mike is propped against Connie’s—a fellow detective and my partner—desk. Her workstation is directly across from mine, so I’m surprised I didn’t hear Mike walk up.

He shakes his head. I take it to mean he wants me to stop what I’m saying, so I do.

“Mrs. Hearn—” I start as I continue to look at Mike, but she decides to cut in.

“Detective, please understand. If there weren’t safety issues involved, this wouldn’t be a problem.” She lets out what sounds to be a tired sigh.

“Yes, of course. And I appreciate your call. I will do as you’ve suggested and speak to my superior right now. Have a good night.” I rush to end the call, not waiting for her to say goodbye.

Once I place the receiver on the holder, I wait a few seconds for Mike to speak, but he doesn’t. It’s evident to me I’ve made an error in his opinion, I’m just not sure what exactly.

“How much did you hear?” my curious mind inquires.

“A good bit, but why don’t you start from the beginning. Tell me about the woman and the baby that’s nowup front with Stephanie,” Mike says, his southern accent thicker tonight in his tired state than it usually is. I rarely remember he’s not a native Californian like I am, being from Mississippi.

I catch Mike up to speed and tell him exactly what happened and even hand over my notepad where she hand-wrote a small paragraph that’s supposed to be her statement.

“This sounds like a complete box of shit.”

I laugh at his statement.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I tell him.

“And she refuses to press charges or even get a restraining order, yet she says she’s scared for her life?” Mike glances away.

“Yep.” I nod my head. “She’s lying about something.”

He looks back at me. “Maybe. But that’s not your call to make. Not yet. Your job was to take a statement, and you did. Your job was to try to get her to press charges, and from what you told me, you did. You can’t make her. I agree the story doesn’t sound right hearing it from your point of view. Where’s the photo you mentioned?”

I turn around in my chair to face the computer screen, and with a few clicks, I’m logged in and pull up my email. With two more clicks, I have the photo I practically made Miss Carlisle send me pulled up on the twenty-two-inch screen.

I glance over at Mike, jerking my head toward my shoulder in a quick motion. “Walk around.”

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