A Child is Torn: Innocence Lost (18 page)

“You know it used to be completely owned and run by the state? Well, Skylar Armistace had a mentally handicapped sister; she was a little bit younger than he was. I believe she had Down Syndrome. My uncle told me once that her parents used to pretty much keep her hidden in the house, but Armistace was really attached to her. Eventually they put her in the state home. I think she was ten, and I guess the family would visit her occasionally. Armistace used to sneak out of the house to go see her and bring her gifts, toys. He was upset they sent her away. Anyway, one day they found her dead in her room.”

Hope shook her head and frowned.

“Apparently, she had been raped repeatedly over the three years she had been there
—
by guards or doctors, no one really knows
—
and she got pregnant. One of the doctors gave her a hack-job abortion and she bled to death. Armistace swore he would never let that happen again, so when he was old enough and rich enough, he made sure it didn’t. Actually, the original hospital mysteriously burnt down a few years later. It was Armistace who paid to have it rebuilt.”

“How do you know all this? I mean, he’s so reclusive. We never see him. Everything goes through his foundation and lawyers.”

Marty took a sip of his coffee as the waitress dropped off the check. He picked it up and slipped his credit card into the leather receipt folder.

“My dad’s older brother and Skylar Armistace were good friends.”

“Wow. Well this answers a lot of questions. I mean, the man is a saint when it comes to what the kids need. It makes it so much easier to take care of them.”

He stared at her, watching the flames from the fireplace reflecting off her face; it made her look even more beautiful.

“I guess we better go. They’re going to start charging us rent,” he laughingly told her.

She chuckled as she stood up, and once again he helped her with her jacket, this time his hands lingering a little bit longer on her shoulders. He was close enough to smell the lavender scent of her hair.

They walked toward the exit as someone came in, ushering a blast of cold air in with them.

He saw Hope shiver.

“Are you cold?” He draped his arm across her shoulders.

“A little bit, temperature’s dropped. Winter is definitely coming.”

The parking lot was practically empty, and the moon reflected off the chrome bumpers of the cars that remained. They both slowed their pace, neither of them wanting to see the evening come to an end.

They finally reached his car and he opened her door. A strand of her hair had fallen by her mouth and he carefully brushed it away. He wanted so badly to kiss her right then and there. Hesitating for a second, still trying to decide whether the kiss would be welcome, he cupped her face in his hand and lifted her chin. Hope was about a full foot shorter than he was, and her head tilted backward. She had closed her eyes, her lids slightly fluttering. He didn’t want to close his; he wanted to remember this moment. His lips met hers and she responded with caution at first, but then she relaxed into his embrace.

Hope broke away first. “Um, that was nice,” she said softly, fingering the front of his jacket.

He grinned. “You taste like mint.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied, looking self-conscious.

“No, I like it. You taste good. It’s been a while,” he added.

Hope looked at him, her aqua-colored eyes squinting, a small worry line emerging on her forehead.

“I mean, it’s been a while that I actually enjoyed a kiss that much.”

“Me too.” She took her hand off his jacket and settled into the passenger seat.

“I guess I’d better get you home, huh Doc?” He got in and started the car.

“Marty…”

“Yeah?” He glanced at her as he looked in the rearview mirror and pulled out of the parking spot.

“Thank you for dinner. I
—,
it was nice. Really nice.”

“If you really want to thank me, tell me we can do this again.” He was nervous now, hoping she wasn’t just placating him. He thought if she said yes… well, maybe she meant what she said, about really liking the kiss.

She lifted her eyes to meet his. “I would love to.”

Marty let out a sigh of relief. He felt excited; his heart thudding in his chest. He put his hand on the back of her head, enjoying how silky it felt. He gave it a little rub.

“How about tomorrow night?” he asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing it.

“Tomorrow night is fine. I would make you dinner, but I’m a lousy cook. But we can bring in Chinese, maybe a movie?”

“You can’t cook?” He pretended to be disappointed. He noticed her face lose a bit of color. “Just kidding, Chinese is perfect,” he laughed. “You want me to pick it up?”

“No, I’ve got a favorite place that delivers. What do you like?” She started to go through her purse searching for a small memo pad and pen she kept for jotting down notes.

“I’ll eat anything, whatever you pick is fine. I’m easy.”

She put the pad away. “I hope so,” she whispered.

Not knowing if he should let her know he had heard, he chuckled to himself. Before long, he pulled up in front of her home. He started to get out.

“It’s okay, I can take it from here,” she told him. “I hate that awkward moment at the front door… will he kiss me or not…”

She leaned over and gave him a kiss. Gentle, but intense. “Tomorrow night? How about seven?”

“That works for me. Goodnight, Hope.”

Marty watched her walk to her door, and waited until she was safely inside. He waited a few moments, giving her what he thought would be enough time to lock the door behind her before he drove off.

He turned on the car radio and sang along with the oldies station all the way home. He didn’t know a lot of the words, and he didn’t care. Marty was feeling good. For the first time in a long time, he was feeling alive.

Chapter Ten

October 2011

Jean

Jean had Brad Madison’s file out and was looking at it when Moran got to the office. He had checked into the Ginns family, leaving nothing unturned. He had found nothing. She was going over the file, trying to find something he might have missed.

“Don’t you have that damn thing committed to memory?”

“Actually, I was thinking of trying to get in touch with the father’s family, see if they could shed any light. Maybe they know something the Evan’s family isn’t saying.” She put the folder down.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. I can’t decide if I think the uncle is full of shit, or if I feel sorry for him.”

She picked up a restaurant menu that was on her desk.

“Glenn and I are going out tonight. I was thinking of trying this place.” She glanced down, studying the items on the brochure.

“Don’t bother. Connie and I went there last week. I thought it was okay, but it gave her heartburn. She was popping Tums all night,” he chuckled.

“Damn, you have any other suggestions? I’m so sick of the same old restaurants. I need something different! Maybe we’ll just go into Monticello. You guys want to join us?”

“No, I promised Connie I would go to some chick flick with her. Its AARP night, senior citizen discount. Oh, the joys of growing old.”

“Well, what do you think?” She asked, picking up the Madison file again.

“I think, Jean, you have a one-track mind. Besides we have no reason to question the Madisons. They haven’t done anything wrong. You heard Ginns, they hardly had anything to do with the kid.”

He walked over to the table where the coffee machine sat and lifted the pot, silently asking if she wanted some. “Besides, we’d never get the go-ahead from upstairs. There’s no way they’d okay that expense—going to Massachusetts, seeing the fall foliage, bringing our spouses, staying at a bed-and-breakfast. Now that, I could get into. A little bit of fishing…”

“Thanks,” she said as she took the steaming mug from his hands. “Yeah, you’re right.” She took a sip. “Maybe Dr. Rubin has spoken to them. I’d like to hear what she’s got to say.”

“I think the boss might spring for a phone call to Armistace,” he said with a wink.

“I like her. Seems like a dedicated lady.” Taking another sip, she decided to add another spoonful of sugar.

“Yeah, hot too. Nice body. I heard she’s going out with Keal. How does he do it?”

“If you looked like Keal, Moran, you could get some hot young blood too. But those days are long gone.”

“Ah, I wouldn’t know what to do with something like that anyway. I’ll stick with my Connie—she thinks I’m better looking than Keal, anyway.” He glanced in the mirror, wet his fingers with some spit, and ran it over his hair.

“Gross, Moran, just gross.” She scrolled through her computer’s address book until she found Dr. Rubin’s number. She called and got connected to her voice mail. She was going to hang up, but changed her mind and left a message requesting a callback.

“Maybe I’ll just order in a pizza,” she thought out loud. “What movie?”

“Huh?”

“What movie are you going to see?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know, you’d have to ask her. I’m just the driver. I plan on nodding off after the first five minutes.”

She looked at him in disgust, shaking her head and walked away.

A few hours later, Jean was at her computer looking up bed-and-breakfasts in the Berkshire Mountains. Every once in a while, Moran would come up with a good idea. Maybe she could mix business with pleasure. No one needed to know what she was up to; she could just take a few days off. Glenn had some comp time coming. Biting her bottom lip, she began to rationalize her thinking.

She could just drop in and see the Madisons, get their take on the relationship their son had with his family. Get their take on Uncle Eddie.

She looked through the Madison file again and found the phone number of Evan Madison’s parents in Massachusetts.

It was a masculine voice that answered.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Madison?”

“Who’s calling, who’s this?” His voice was grave.

“Mr. Madison, this is Detective Whitley with the Fallsburg Police Department.”

“Yeah? What do you want?” He practically barked out the words.

Jean was caught off guard. She hadn’t been expecting him to be overjoyed with her call, but she wasn’t expecting rude.

“Mr. Madison,” she said as she tried to keep calm and not get offended. “I’m going to be in the area next weekend, and I was hoping I could meet with you and Mrs. Madison.”

“What for?”

“I’d like to talk to you about your grandson’s case, if you don’t mind.”

She was thinking perhaps she had made a mistake; she should have just shown up on the creep’s doorstep.

“About what? Look there’s nothing to talk about. I don’t want you coming here screwing with my wife. She’s been through enough.”

“Sir, I sympathize with your wife, but I’m trying to help your grandson.”

“Look lady, we don’t want to see that kid again, okay? As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead—he’s dead to me. He’s as dead as Evan.”

The next thing Jean heard was a click on the other end of the line. He’d hung up on her.

“Schmuck!” she blurted out aloud.
Well there goes my vacation
.

The guy had gotten her blood boiling. Now she was angry for two reasons; she was ticked off at this arrogant asshole, and she was disappointed she wasted the last few hours daydreaming. She had already been looking forward to a weekend alone with her husband—spending the weekend sleeping in, cuddled together on a cozy feather bed.
Yeah
, she thought,
I am pissed
.

Her mumbling got Moran’s attention and he poked his head over her cubicle.

“What’s up? Problem?”

“That bastard hung up on me.” She threw her pen across her desk.

“What bastard?” he asked, keeping his distance.

“Madison, Keith Madison. Guy’s an idiot.” Her eyes were beginning to well up, her lashes becoming wet with moisture as she fought back tears of frustration.
Do
not
cry
, she told herself.

“I can’t believe it. I just cannot believe what he said.” She willed away her tears. “This moron said the kid was dead to him.” She shook her head in disbelief. “He actually said the kid was dead to him.”

“Jean,” Moran said, sitting down at her desk “they lost their son—the kid killed their son. You heard Ginns. They weren’t close to Brad.”

“That’s no excuse, Moran. He’s just a little boy. It’s a good thing they weren’t in his life. Can you imagine?”

“Look, maybe you’re getting too close to this thing. There’s really nothing you can do. Kid’s where he needs to be. It doesn’t matter anymore. Why are you making it such an issue?”

“I don’t know, I just… I think we’ve missed something, something that could help this boy.”

“Look, you need to get out of here. How about you come for a ride with me. The store called, the necklaces are ready. Come with me. Maybe you can pick something out, and then I’ll drop some hints with Glenn.” He smiled, his graying mustache wiggling like a caterpillar.

“Sure,” she sighed, “Let’s get out of here.” She grabbed her jacket.

As they were walking out the door she asked him, “Annie give you a date yet? You know when she’ll be home?”

“Three weeks, and my little girl will be home. Three more weeks… she has fifteen days leave before she has to report back.”

She knew he was going to make the most out of every day that girl was home. She hadn’t seen him this happy in a long time. Actually, she hadn’t seen him this happy since before Annie joined the Marines. He’d spent every day since then worrying about her; now he was going to be able to relax for at least fifteen days. She envied him those fifteen days.

November 2011

Hope

An early snowstorm hit the eastern coastal area. The snow blanketed the once-green pasture like a giant, white down comforter. The sun hung high in the sky, its reflection glittering off the soft snow like millions of diamonds.

Things had been really quiet at work, which was unusual because the bad weather had kept the kids indoors more often than not. When they got cabin fever, they tended to act up. For some reason, things at Armistace were unusually benign.

Brad seemed to have settled in. He was participating in games, and was doing well in his studies. He had become fairly compliant. I was able to have his IQ tested, and he tested way above average. All his medical tests came back negative, and I was still baffled. He had developed a strong relationship with Gabby, following him, talking to him, and trying to help him with his duties whenever he could. He even got some of the other boys to help Gabby with his work.

Many a time, I would walk into the hallway and see Brad and his roommates taking turns sitting on the floor polisher as Gabby maneuvered the machine on the tile floors. Other times they were cheerfully wiping down the walls with soapy rags.

To everyone’s amazement, even Ricky started to take Brad’s lead, and was slowly becoming potty trained. It wasn’t unusual to catch Brad laughing and smiling; everyone who met him loved him.

Some of the staff were beginning to wonder if it had all been a mistake; that this child couldn’t have done what he was accused of.

I had met with Jean Whitley a few times, first as therapist and detective, and then slowly we began to build a friendship. I found her funny and compassionate, and enjoyed being around her. Brad had given us a reason to bond—and I loved her perspective on what I needed to know about dating a cop.

A couple of times, Marty and I ran into her and her husband at the Liars’ Den, and we’d join them for dinner and drinks.

Marty and I had seen each other eight or nine times since that first date; he’d even come to the hospital on his days off. He would play ball with the kids, or take them sleigh riding on the freshly fallen snow. The kids loved him, and I was beginning to wonder if love was also within my reach. Marty had somehow gotten under my skin and was crawling his way into my heart. I was still skeptical, but brick by brick, this man was tearing down my defenses.

Marty and I would spend hours on end, talking about everything under the sun. Sometimes the discussion would turn to Brad and how well he was doing, though we were still baffled by the horror which had brought him to Armistace in the first place.

Everything was quiet. I was in my office, reading a report on one of the patients when I heard the screaming outside. It wasn’t your typical scream of one child trying to take a toy away from another—it was an ear piercing, high-pitched scream. I dropped the paperwork on the desk and. I ran out to the hallway.

One of the staff was trying to pull Brad off of Scottie who was screaming in pain. Brad had the remote control from the TV room and was holding it in his fist, slamming it down on Scottie’s face.

Scottie was bellowing in pain and fear. The attack had come out of nowhere, and it took a few seconds before anyone could figure out what was happening. Jerry, one of our teachers, was fighting to pull Brad off, and he was having a tough time doing it. His face was turning red as he grabbed Brad by the waist, trying to lift him up.

Before I had a chance to move, I saw the large, muscular arm of Gabby grab hold of Brad and lift him up into the air. He held him tightly against his chest. Brad was kicking now, thrusting his legs against Gabby’s thighs, his back arching as if he was having a seizure.

I went over to Scottie. He seemed more scared than hurt, but a red welt was appearing on his chubby left cheek. He was covering his face with his hands, afraid of another attack.

While I was trying to calm Scottie down, Judy had arrived and administered a tranquilizer to Brad, who finally yielded to Gabby, his frail arms hanging over the big man’s shoulders. I heard Judy ask Gabby to carry the boy to room twelve; Gabby looked heartbroken. I turned my attention back to Scottie, who was beginning to calm down.