Authors: Michelle Weidenbenner
Cache a Predator (32 page)
Brett’s parents shook Sarah’s hand. His mother smiled at her. “Wow, you’re a doctor? You seem so young. You must be an intelligent woman.” She winked. “I’m happy to meet you.”
Sarah smiled. “Happy to meet you too.” She was sure his parents knew about Dean. It had been all over the news, but neither mentioned him or what had happened. For that she was grateful.
Mr. Reed turned toward Brett and explained what would happen once they were inside the courtroom. They waited in a gathering space until Brett’s case was called.
In the courtroom, Sarah sat between Mrs. Reed and Quinn in the first row directly behind Brett and his father, resting her hands in her lap, holding them together to keep them from shaking. The circular room seemed large with just the five of them there. The judge’s seat was positioned in front to the left of the room, elevated two steps from where the rest of them sat. Rows and rows of seats behind Sarah were empty.
When Judge Mary Mason entered, everyone stood. She directed a nod toward Brett and the others in the room, and sat. A court recorder sat to her left, her eyes cast down to her keyboard.
Judge Mason narrated the case to the recorder. Sarah heard bits and pieces. “Brett Reed, daughter Quinn, wife deceased, anger management classes …” The sound of the judge’s voice droned on. Sarah fell lost in thought.
What would have happened if Dean hadn’t taken his life? Would they be in this courtroom at some point fighting for his freedom? She trembled at the thought. He would have had to do time in prison or in an institution. She was certain he wouldn’t have lived through either. He’d probably known it too, which was probably why he’d chosen to end his life.
She didn’t want to think about Dean and what might have happened. She heard the judge mention her name, Peggy’s, CPS, their assessment of Brett as a parent, and their petition to grant him as Quinn’s permanent custodial parent.
Judge Mason asked Brett several questions about the size of his home. Brett explained that he’d moved into Ali’s house since the rental contract was in his name, and Quinn had been staying with his parents until the custody hearing was over. If he was granted custody, Quinn would move back to her original house and have her own bedroom. The home was larger than his apartment. The judge inquired about the anger management classes, and Brett assured her that he’d finish them. Finally, the judge expressed condolences in the death of Brett’s ex-wife. She read the statement of Brett’s rights and finally granted him custody.
When the judge pounded her gavel, Sarah snapped back to the present, leaving her memories of Dean behind.
Quinn squealed and squeezed Sarah’s hand. The child bolted from her chair and sprang into her father’s arms. He lifted her and kissed the top of her head. “You’re all mine, baby.” He closed his eyes and opened them, settling them on Sarah. He mouthed, “Thank you.”
Chapter Thirty
A week later, Brett was standing at his apartment door holding several moving boxes, trying to find his key. He’d come to load up his things. He hadn’t been to his apartment since the day Ali was there, before her accident, the day after CPS had done their assessment.
His landlady, Mrs. Rozella, walked toward him, carrying a mop and a bucket, the smell of bleach permeating the air. She set her bucket down. “I haven’t seen you for a while, Officer Reed. A few weeks ago a woman was here looking for you. She said she was your wife.”
“My wife?” He cocked his head.
She nodded. “She had an envelope in her hand and asked me if I could let her in. She said she’d forgotten to give something to you.” Mrs. Rozella’s bifocals slipped down to the bottom of her nose. She pushed them up. “I couldn’t let her in your apartment on account of the law, and I didn’t want to be responsible for no letter—or whatever she had in that envelope. I told her to slide it under the door, so she did. I waited until she drove off, making sure there was no monkey business going on—like her breaking into your place or something. We don’t want no trouble here.”
“Thanks.” His voice quivered. Why had Ali come here?
Mrs. Rozella nodded, picked up her bucket, and continued to the apartment next door.
Brett turned his key in the lock and let himself in, searching the ground for the envelope. Sure enough, it lay inside the threshold of the door, his name scribbled in Ali’s handwriting on the top. He leaned the boxes against the wall, retrieved the letter, and shut the door.
He sat on the edge of his bed, the envelope in his hand. The moment felt surreal. Ali was no longer living, yet he held a piece of her in his hands. His heart plummeted. Why hadn’t she given him the envelope the day she came to see him? He tore it open and read.
Dear Brett,
At first, I packed to leave. I thought I’d take Quinn with me too. Run away. Start over. But where would I go? I can’t escape myself. Who am I kidding?
Instead, I dropped my clothes off at the shelter for abused women. I left Quinn’s at my mother’s.
There’s only one out for me. I know what I must do.
I always wanted to be a good mother and live with a man who would be a father to my child. Something I never had. I thought if I had your love my life would be complete. I’d no longer feel the pain.
I was wrong.
I had everything I ever wanted with you and look at me. I’m a mess. I don’t understand why God made me this way—why I can’t focus on anything, why I’m sad all the time, why booze or drugs are the only things that can take away the pain. I want silence, no more noise, no more voices in my head.
I’m a failure.
You were right. What kind of mother neglects her child? A bad one. I can’t believe I locked Quinn in her room and didn’t remember. There’s something wrong with me. Everything stresses me out. Other women aren’t like me.
I’m freeing you, Brett, so you don’t feel trapped anymore. You never deserved me. Do what you’ve always wanted to do. Go to law school. You’d make a great attorney.
People don’t understand what I feel because they can’t see the pain on my face. But inside, sometimes in my head, sometimes in my body, it hurts and it doesn’t go away. It follows me. I can’t escape it. That’s why I don’t want to wake up some days. The pain is unbearable.
I hope you understand why I’m doing this. Don’t blame yourself. You aren’t causing me to do this. You have given me so much. Thank you.
Quinn will be better without me too. Maybe you’ll fall in love with someone who will be a better mother. I can’t do this anymore. I don’t have the energy. Take care of Quinn. I know you will. You’re a good father.
Please don’t grieve for me. I hope you forgive me.
Love, Ali
So the accident had been premeditated? Ali had wanted to die? Brett rubbed his face. What did this change? Nothing. Did it change the way he felt? No.
Maybe he could have talked her out of taking the drugs and crashing the car, but he’d never know. What he did know was that he could never have changed her. He’d tried.
He shook his head, but didn’t cry. He had no more tears.
#
Six months later
Beauty, Sarah’s horse, trotted in the sandy arena, bucking and prancing for her audience. Quinn and Sadie giggled at the gate, stepping on the first rung of the post and leaning into the corral, wearing hats and scarves. The fresh air of a late winter’s day surrounded Sarah’s farm, leftover snow melting in the dirt. The grass showed its face, reminding Brett of life and how things thaw, grow, and change.
Sarah smiled at the girls from inside the arena, where she lunged Beauty in circles. “She’s almost got the wiggles out of her, girls. Do you want to paint your handprints on her sides today?”
The girls squealed in unison. “Yes!”
Brett, with his elbows on the fence, watched Sarah. The sun winked at them, half hidden behind the clouds, reminding him that somehow, even after the grayest days of winter, or tragedy, the sun rises.
Sarah’s farm no longer caused him anxiety over what they’d been through. Since Quinn’s custody case, he and Sarah had shared new, happy memories on the farm. They never forgot what had happened, but every day that passed made it easier.
He scanned the farm’s golden pastures and knew that in a few months, when spring came, the pastures would turn green again. It reminded him of how his life had been reborn. Good things had come out of the bad, like Sadie’s life.
He patted her head. “How’s the new baby brother?”
Sadie turned and smiled at him, her jack-o’-lantern smile budding with new teeth. “He cries a lot, but my new mom lets me feed him, and he stops. Mom says he likes me.”
Quinn shot Brett a look. “I wish I had a little brother or sister.” She winked and motioned toward Sarah.
He chuckled. “Uh, Quinn,
not-so-subtle
Quinn, you don’t know what you’re wishing for.”
Sadie’s eyebrows lifted. “He’s right. You don’t get near as much attention when the baby comes. He takes up a lot of my mom’s time.”
The girls turned to watch Sarah again, their arms wrapped around each other.
Shortly after the custody hearing, Quinn had wanted to see Sadie. Brett asked Sarah to look into her case. When she confirmed that Sadie’s parents had perished in a fire, Brett set out to find her an adoptive family. Sarah knew a young couple from her church who’d been praying for a child. Through Brett’s father’s connections, they’d made it possible for Sadie to be adopted into their home.
Shortly after the custody hearing, Brett enrolled in training to become a CASA volunteer, a court-appointed person whose sole purpose was to be an advocate for children who didn’t have a voice in the system. As a volunteer, he got to meet everyone involved in a child’s life, including their family members, teachers, doctors, lawyers, and social workers. He gathered information and made recommendations. One of his goals was to help decent fathers get custody of their children, whereas they might not.
It had taken him a long time to see the good in what had happened. Walking through the muck of despair and making it to the other side had taken its toll on him, but now he saw it, because he’d taken the time to look. He took time to reflect and saw the good as plain as seeing the sun. He only had to open his eyes to see God’s brightness, and his heart to feel his warmth and consistency.
Brett saw God’s goodness in the smiles of strangers, the music in a bird’s song, the joy in a baby’s cry, the way Quinn’s smile resembled Ali’s, and the sorrowful glint in Sarah’s eyes.
Sarah winked at him and motioned for the girls to come in the arena. As they played with Beauty and finger-painted her sides, Sarah joined Brett at the fence and locked her hand into his. He smelled the leather from her boots and the mint of her gum as she leaned into him and kissed his cheek. “It’s so nice to have them here.”
“What about me?” he teased.
She chuckled. “It’s nice to have you here too.”
He wrapped his arms around her, and she smiled, showing him the warmth swelling inside her. He squeezed her close. “Not half as nice as having you in my arms.”
THE END
About the Author
Michelle Weidenbenner is a full time suspense writer and blogger at Random Writing Rants where she teaches teens and adults how to get published. When she’s not writing she’s winning ugly on the tennis court.
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