Covert Exposure (2 page)

His heart picked up pace at the thought of
working with this beautiful green-eyed creature for the next
several weeks. He glanced at her and accepted his reward from God
for being forced to leave the homicide division.

Spinelli listened as Ms. Fontaine explained
his role for the next several weeks. Basically, he would aid Ms.
O’Hara with child recovery and placement, and whatever else she
needed assistance with. Ms. Fontaine told him how much their
clientele struggle with the holiday season. She further stated that
the holiday season proved to be a season high in domestic abuse,
which resulted in large numbers of children having to be removed
from their homes and placed in foster care.

Spinelli nodded at Ms. Fontaine, accepting
his role, though still wondering how long this banishment would
last.

Chapter
Three

Spinelli followed Shannon to her office,
unable to peel his eyes from her shapely legs. His nostrils
narrowed, sucking in every ounce of the sweet scent that lingered
in the air behind her. She gestured for him to take a seat in a
chair opposite her desk. Her phone rang and she picked up the
receiver as she sat down. As she spoke on the telephone, he scanned
her small office memorizing every detail like detectives tend to
do. He couldn’t help but notice how just a touch of feminine warmth
accented the professional décor. His eyes shifted from the photo of
an older couple, perhaps in their early seventies, to a photo of
three little red-headed boys. He wondered if the boys belonged to
her. He glanced at her left hand, no ring.

Shannon hung up the phone receiver. “I’m
sorry about that, Detective Spinelli,” she said as she thumbed
through the mounds of neatly organized stacks of case files on her
desk, “here it is…the Washington file.”

Spinelli watched as she flipped the file open
and lost herself in the information for a brief moment. She blew
out a sigh and looked up at him. He could easily see the sadness
flood her big green eyes. Shannon cleared her throat. “The
authorities picked up Gilbert Washington early this morning as a
result of a domestic abuse call.”

“What happened? What did he do?” he asked as
he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his
chest.

“Apparently the neighbor placed the 911 call
when he heard Gilbert and his wife, Charmane, arguing. A loud thud
followed the arguing. The neighbor assumed the cause of the thud
was Gilbert throwing Charmane against the wall. As it turned out
the neighbor was right. Unfortunately the kids witnessed the entire
exchange.”

Shannon shook her head. “We’ve offered
Charmane assistance for herself and her children but she refuses to
leave Gilbert. As a result, today we will be removing the children
from the home and placing them in foster care.”

“Why does she refuse to leave him?”

“Scared perhaps.” Shannon sighed and shook
her head. “And he’s probably her crack supplier.”

“Is Gilbert still in lockup?”

“Yes, so it would probably be a good idea to
head over there and remove the children before he’s released.”

“I’ll get my unmarked and meet you up front,”
Spinelli replied as he sprang to his feet and headed for the door.
Before his third step hit the floor he heard Shannon call his name.
He turned to find her standing behind her desk holding up a set of
keys.

He cocked his head to the side. “What?”

“We’ll take one of the vehicles assigned to
Social Services. They’re fully equipped with car seats for matters
such as these,” Shannon said as she handed the keys to him. “You
can drive so I can review the file some more.”

“Car seats? How many children are we talking
about here?”

“Three. The oldest, Lesha is seven, Darius is
three and Christina is nine months old.”

Spinelli followed Shannon to the parking lot.
She pointed at a dark green Dodge minivan. “That’s the one.”

He shifted his eyes from the minivan to
Shannon and then back to the van. “That, we’re taking that?” No red
lights, no sirens, no excitement. Life as he knew it was slipping
away from him.

“Perhaps you could just get in and drive, and
forget the comments,” Shannon said as she climbed in through the
passenger door.

Spinelli got in on the driver’s side and
started the engine. He adjusted the seat to accommodate his long
legs, then the mirrors. Once he finished altering everything, he
glanced over at Shannon.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head. “I’m just wondering how I
got here. Yesterday I was a homicide detective and today I’m
driving a minivan that smells like sweaty socks.”

“I’m sorry you’re not pleased with your
assignment but we need to get going if we are going to remove the
children before Gilbert makes bail.”

Spinelli put the minivan in drive and headed
toward the Washington home located just north of downtown, on
Cherry Street. He knew that area could mean trouble. His senses
moved into “full alert” mode.

As he drove, Shannon explained the procedure
for removing the children. She would do all the talking and he
would stand in the background as an authority figure to help keep
peace during the process.

Spinelli parked in front of the Washington’s
apartment building. Shannon reached for the door handle but
immediately halted when Spinelli wrapped his hand around the upper
part of her left arm. “Wait a second,” he said as he scanned the
area.

The neighborhood left a lot to be desired.
The old multi-story apartment buildings screamed for repair. The
most up-to-date gang signs cluttered the apartment’s exterior and
clusters of homeless people paraded about the sidewalk picking
through the litter sprawled about the area as they pushed their
belongings in wheeled carts. At least on this particular day the
sunlight lit up the street making it easy for Spinelli to see and
assess his surroundings. Just the opposite of the last time he
visited this neighborhood when darkness filled the street making it
difficult to find his enemies. In fact, if it weren’t for the
stench of death penetrating the night air he may never have located
and apprehended Magoo and Slapshot, two hoods responsible for the
deaths of four members of their rival gang.

When Spinelli deemed the area secure, he gave
Shannon the okay to exit the minivan. He caught a glimpse of her
eye roll. “Hey, I’m just making sure it’s secure for your own
good,” he growled.

Spinelli followed Shannon into the apartment
building and up three flights of rickety stairs, gripping the
handrail more firmly with each passing step. Stale dry air swept
through the narrow corridor, stinging his lungs with each breath he
took. The floor felt spongy under his feet and the hallway lights
cut in and out, as they pleased. The intense aroma of decaying mice
made his eyes water. He absently patted them with the sleeve of his
jacket.

Shannon knocked on the Washington’s apartment
door. A young girl answered. Spinelli studied her. He figured she
must be Lesha, the oldest of the children.

“Mama, Ms. O’Hara’s here,” Lesha yelled over
her shoulder.

“No school today?” Shannon asked as she
stepped through the doorway.

“Daddy told Mama that we couldn’t go anywhere
until he gets back,” Lesha innocently replied.

Charmane rounded the corner from the hallway
and stepped into the living room. When she glanced toward Shannon,
she started to smile until she noticed Spinelli standing in the
doorway. Charmane threw her hand over her heart and the black and
blue eyes she sported immediately swelled with tears.

Well, I guess she knows why we’re
here…Christ,
Spinelli thought.

As Shannon explained the process to Charmane,
Spinelli scanned the small filthy apartment. Mildew lined the tan
colored fabric on the couch where Lesha sat and watched television.
Dirty dishes and soda cans covered the end tables, and dirt-smudged
toys littered the floor. The bubbling wallpaper reeked of dampness,
a piece of plywood covered one of the two windows in the living
room, and the entryway closet door hung crooked by only one hinge.
The apartment wasn’t fit for a litter of feral cats.

Charmane began to sob hysterically and begged
Shannon not to take her children. Spinelli shifted his eyes to
Lesha and watched her as she continued to stare at the television,
not once looking in her hysterical mother’s direction. He noted how
Darius, on the other hand, clung to his mother’s leg and sobbed
along with her. He wondered if three-year-old Darius even
understood why his mother cried. And if that wasn’t enough, the
screams of baby Christina began to bellow from down the hall.
Charmane shook Darius from her leg, and headed down the hall. She
returned moments later with Christina in her arms and Darius
resumed his leg-clinging position. She continued to beg Shannon not
to take the children.

Spinelli watched as Shannon turned her
attention from Charmane to Lesha and held her hand out toward her.
“Lesha, honey, it’s time for us to go.”

Lesha simply rose from the couch and took
Shannon’s hand. Shannon held her other hand out to Darius but he
refused to let go of his mother’s leg. “Come on, Sweetie, we need
to go now,” Shannon said softly. Darius still refused.

This production went on for what seemed like
an eternity to Spinelli, and he knew for sure that the noise level
produced by Charmane, Darius, and the baby would permanently deafen
him if he didn’t remedy the situation immediately. He walked over
to Charmane and simply plucked the screaming baby out of her arms
and plunked her into Shannon’s free arm, then he reached down and
broke Darius’ grip on his mother’s leg, lifted him up and perched
him on his hip, and then motioned for Shannon to follow him.
Charmane dropped to her knees threw her hands over her face and
wept into them.

Spinelli turned on his heel and refused to
look back. On his way out of the apartment he stopped by the hall
closet and retrieved three small jackets looking close to the sizes
needed and he exited the apartment.

Spinelli followed Shannon out of the
building. When they reached the minivan, she loaded the kids in and
took her place in the passenger seat. She spoke not a word.

Darius and Christina continued their wailing
as Spinelli drove to the address of the foster home. He watched and
listened to Shannon as she interacted with the children. He
couldn’t help but notice how her soft soothing voice and warm eyes
calmed them.

Spinelli helped carry the kids into the
foster home and then went back to the minivan and waited for
Shannon to complete her business. He leaned his head back against
the headrest. He found himself daydreaming about his good old life
as a homicide detective. Only hours passed since he last worked on
a homicide case but at this very moment, it felt like decades to
him.

Spinelli snapped out of his daydream when
Shannon opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

“Where to now? What’s next on our agenda?” he
asked as he signaled and pulled away from the curb.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Shannon
suck her plump ruby red bottom lip into her mouth and chew on it
for a moment. She released her lip and sucked in a deep breath.
“Back to the office. Just take me back to the office.”

The coolness in her voice sent a shiver
throughout Spinelli’s body. Half an hour ago, this woman’s voice
seemed so soft and soothing but now it seemed cold and hard as
ice.

Spinelli stopped at a red light and turned
his head in her direction. “Well how does this work? We do this
type of thing all day or what?”

Spinelli observed her face. Sometime in the
last hour or so, it transitioned from its soft smooth looking milky
white color to the reddest of all reds. The heat escaping her pores
warmed the entire vehicle without the help of the van’s heater.
Spinelli unzipped his jacket. Shannon sat silent, staring forward.
“What, what the hell’s the matter?” he asked.

She slowly turned in his direction and when
her eyes met his he felt as though they grabbed a hold of his and
clamped on like a vice grip. He fought to break free from her stare
but she wouldn’t release him. He admired her strength yet it scared
the hell out of him. A car horn sounded behind them and he tore his
gaze from her and focused it on the green traffic light. He pressed
the accelerator toward the floor.

Spinelli parked the minivan in the parking
lot. Shannon sprang out of the van like a jack-in-the-box on speed.
In two long quick steps, he caught up to her. He reached forward,
wrapped his hand around her wrist, and tugged slightly to slow her
down. She stopped and spun on her heel to face him. She looked up
at him and just stared for a moment, then shook her wrist loose
from his grip, spun around and headed into the building.

He stayed on her heels as she nearly sprinted
up four flights of stairs.

“Ms. O’Hara,” Spinelli called, his voice so
high-pitched his own ears hardly recognized it.

Shannon stopped dead in her tracks and turned
to face him. She pulled her eyebrows together, and fixed her green
eyes on him. He struggled for a voice. Moments passed before he
finally asked, “What’s wrong? What did I do to piss you off so
much?”

Shannon took a step toward him, raised her
hand, and pointed her petite pale finger in his face. She clenched
her teeth and then spoke through them. “You, I have never
encountered such coldness from another human being in my entire
life. Do you have any idea what you put that family through,
ripping the children from their mother’s arms like that?”

Spinelli watched as her body shuddered. He
cocked his head to the side and pulled a frown. “Let me get this
right, you’re pissed at me because I yanked a couple of screaming
kids out the arms of a crack whore. Aren’t you the reason we showed
up on her doorstep in the first place? Wasn’t it your call to
remove the kids from the home? The way I see it you should be
thanking me for getting your job done for you.”