Crown's Law (6 page)

“I don’t think so. I have a picture of her in
my suitcase—so I can remember her. Maybe, if you have room, we can
bring her suitcase. She might have hidden some money in there, or
something. Her clothes don’t fit me, though.”

“Where are the car keys?”

“They were in Rachel’s purse. She never left
them in the car,” explained Becky.

They loaded the suitcases and the plastic
bags into Sam’s van. Becky climbed up into the passenger’s seat and
put on her seat belt. Sam debated on whether to tell the cops about
the Toyota, but decided not to. It added nothing to their
investigation, which was cut-and-dried, and they would wonder how
he knew about it. It could not be sold for much. He decided to let
things run their course—let the cops find an abandoned car and do
their thing. He cut across to the I-5 and headed north to Santa Ana
to switch the van for his flaming red Camaro convertible.

It was quite dark by the time Sam and Becky
were speeding south on the I-5 toward Capistrano Beach and his
parents’ beach house. Becky sat silently in the soft leather front
passenger seat of the Camaro. Her world as she knew it was about to
change forever. She just did not know how. She was now an official
orphan at 13 years old. She was tired, depressed, and silently
grieving for Rachel, but she tried to keep her lips from
trembling.

Saturday, August 8, 1998

Capistrano Beach, CA

Sam had called his mother and told her that
he was bringing a waif to the beach house for the night, and he
thought his mother seemed a little bit too agreeable. Sam knew his
parents—especially his mother—were disappointed with their only
son, Samuel, for not producing a grandchild. Sam could not help
it—he hadn’t found a woman with whom he wanted to settle down and
make a family. Maybe he never would. Besides, he enjoyed variety,
having bedded dozens of beautiful women in his life. And he
intended to bed many more. Sam was sure that his mother would have
a great time doting on Becky until he could decide what to do with
her.

As they passed through the Beach Road guard
gate, Becky finally spoke. “Wow! Is that the ocean I hear? Cool!
Right on the beach!”

“Yes. That parking lot we just passed as we
turned in is called ‘Meter Beach’ because of the parking meters
they put in. It’s a state beach. Inside the gate here is all
private beach. You’ll like it here. And you’ll be safe.”

“Thank you for this, Sam. I didn’t know what
I was gonna do without Rachel,” said Becky.

When the two of them entered the house
through the door from the garage, Mrs. Helena Crown was waiting for
them, a big smile on her face.

“There you two are! My goodness, child! So
thin! You must be hungry!” Helena rattled on.

“No, Mother, hungry she’s not. Becky, this is
my mother, Mrs. Crown. This is Rebecca Rogers, Mom,” replied Sam.
“She likes to be called Becky.”

“How do you do, Becky! Welcome to our
home.”

“Pleased to meet you, ma’am . . . Mrs. Crown.
Thank you for letting me spend the night. I’ll try to not cause you
any trouble, but could I have a shower, please? This was to be my
shower day.”

Helena looked at Sam and her face was
signaling that her heart was cracking.

“Of course, dear! Samuel, carry Becky’s bags
up to the south guest room so she can get cleaned up. Then, come
back down here. We need to talk.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Sam, and he led Becky
upstairs to her room.

The room had a queen-sized bed, a dresser,
two night stands with Tiffany table lamps, and a small makeup table
and chair. It was done in Spanish antiques and was the best looking
bedroom that Becky had ever seen! Becky plopped down on the bed and
bounced up and down. She couldn’t believe her good fortune!

“Oh, my! I haven’t slept in a bed in forever!
And never a bed like this! Either I won’t be able to sleep, or I’ll
never wake up! I don’t know which!” exclaimed the excited
child.

Sam showed her the bathroom—and soap,
shampoo, towels, and a new toothbrush.

“Get cleaned up, then come on downstairs.
We’ll talk. Oh, and one more thing, Becky. Mrs. Crown doesn’t allow
bad language—not even from me! So watch your mouth, OK?”

Becky smiled, “Sure, Sam! I’ll try real
hard!”

Sam closed the bedroom door and left her
alone. She took off her shabby clothes and then stood in the shower
for a long time, silently crying. She had not wanted anyone to see
her cry, but now she let it all out. She felt so alone. What would
she do without Rachel? Where would she be tomorrow? She was
scared.

***

Downstairs, Sam filled his mother in on
Becky’s situation, telling her everything he knew about Becky,
including the sexual abuse.

“Poor child! You should find those people and
have them punished, Samuel!” she exclaimed. “You’re good at finding
people.”

“She doesn’t want that, Mom. She’s afraid if
the authorities find out about her, she’ll get thrown into the
foster care system. She says she’ll run away before she endures
that. I think there has to be a better way. Do you realize that she
is tutoring college students in calculus? A kid like this has to be
saved from the system! I have to think of something!”

“She’s such a polite child, too. It’s a
wonder she has survived so well, considering her
circumstances.”

Sam laughed, “She’s a little Jekyll and Hyde!
She has a pretty foul mouth when she slips into her street mode.
Then, out of nowhere, she can start using big words that I don’t
even know the meaning of. She can exhibit unbelievable maturity one
minute, then slip back into frightened child mode the next. It was
quite a mixed bag when she told me her background. I don’t know
what to think of her.”

“Well, for tonight at least, we’ll get her
cleaned up and let her get a good night’s sleep. Then, tomorrow
we’ll think things through. Your father should be back from his
fishing trip tomorrow. Maybe he’ll have some ideas—he’s spent his
life planning unreal things. One thing is for sure: I will not let
that child go back into the streets!” exclaimed Helena.

***

Becky came down the stairs dressed in clean
clothes, but they were as shabby and faded as the ones she had
removed. Her blonde hair was clean and shiny now, and she had
brushed it out. It hung loosely to her shoulders.

“Thank you. I feel much better now, Mrs.
Crown,” she said. “I hope my presence is not a great inconvenience
to you.”

“And you look much better, too! How about
some milk and cookies now?” beamed Helena. “It’s been awhile since
Samuel gorged you with that terrible junk food. You’re going to
have to start eating more nutritious meals. You’re all bones!”

“Milk and cookies sound nice. Thank you.”

“Good. Let’s go into the kitchen and have a
nice talk,” said Helena.

Sam could tell that his mother had slipped
into grandmother mode. He hoped she didn’t overdo it—at least not
until they knew more about the child genius. Helena was not dealing
with a normal child. Plus, the girl must be grieving inside—holding
her grief in. Probably not a good thing. Of course, he had always
been good at that, so he could relate to her.

Over milk and chocolate chip cookies, Helena
extracted a little more information out of Becky. She had just
finished the 8th grade at an Irvine middle school on June 21 and
was scheduled to go to Irvine High School in September. Becky said
the hardest thing about the 8th grade—she was a straight A student,
of course—was remembering what she was supposed to know, and what
she wasn’t supposed to know. She did not want to divulge what she
really knew and draw too much attention to herself. The only reason
she went to school at all was so they would not come looking for
her and find out she was living in a car with her sister—and turn
her over to Child Protective Services. She spent most of her time
in libraries reading and absorbing facts and concepts—knowledge.
She was a speed reader with a photographic memory, so she had
already learned everything she needed to know to graduate from high
school and was well into upper class college courses. She was also
working her way through the Encyclopedia Britannica to increase her
general knowledge.

Helena had to ask, “Have you ever . . . er,
worked with your sister?”

“You mean have I been a hooker?” replied
Becky without hesitation. “No. Rachel wouldn’t let me—not that I
wanted to.”

Later, Helena walked Becky up to her room and
tucked her in the soft bed. Becky lay there for a long time,
listening to the waves, before she finally fell asleep.

Back downstairs, Helena said to Sam, “That
poor thing doesn’t even have a nightgown, and her underwear is a
disgrace! Tomorrow I’m taking her shopping to get her some decent
clothes. She doesn’t even have a bathing suit so she can take a
swim! Well, we’ll do something about that!”

“Don’t get too involved, Mom! We have to
decide what to do with her,” said Sam, but he knew the shopping
trip would take place no matter what he said.

***

Sunday morning, the three of them had
breakfast on the large redwood deck under a blue-and-white-striped
umbrella. Becky did not say much, and stared out to sea a lot.

She ate heartily, however, and spoke whenever
she was spoken to. She wolfed down eggs, bacon, hash browns, four
pieces of toast with grape jelly, and lots of milk. She felt very
sad and alone. She wondered what these nice, friendly people would
do with her. She knew their only option was to turn her over to
CPS.

Becky thought,
Well, they’ve fed me, so I guess they’ll break the news to me
now! CPS, here I come! How do I escape? I’ve got no place to
go!

Becky was surprised when Mrs. Crown said,
“Now, Samuel, let’s clear these dishes away and you can take Becky
and I shopping. We’re going to get her some new clothes. I won’t
see her in these rags another second! Besides, she needs a bathing
suit so she can take a dip in the ocean.”

Becky said, “I can’t afford any clothes,
ma’am. I only have a couple of dollars. I was going to get $20 for
. . .”

“Never you mind, child! My platinum credit
card will take care of everything quite nicely,” replied Helena
with a wave of her hand.

“Well, can we make it Wal-Mart then? They’re
cheaper, and it will take me awhile to pay you back as it is,”
Becky complained.

Poor dear!
thought Helena.
So proud! I guess I
should play along
.

“All right, dear. If that’s how you want it
to be. We can go up to Alicia Parkway, Samuel. There’s a Wal-Mart
up there I think. I was thinking South Coast Plaza, but this will
be closer. Now, let’s get a move on! Mr. Crown called from his boat
and said he’ll be home around 3 o’clock. We’ll want to be back by
then.”

That will be the fastest
she ever shopped for anything!
mused Sam.

***

Becky was panicked at the large amount of
clothing Mrs. Crown was buying. Her cash-register brain was adding
up the cost as Helena threw things in the shopping cart.

I’ll
never be able to pay for all of this! She’s buying so much!
But . . . everything is so beautiful! I’ll figure out a way to
repay her . . . somehow!

When they got back to the beach house, Helena
helped Becky put her new clothes in the closet and the dresser.
Then she gathered up all of Becky’s tattered clothing and took them
away.

“You won’t be needing these anymore,” she
said.

Becky put on one of her new bathing suits—a
pretty red one-piece—and donned her new white coverup. Then she
slipped on her new chic sandals and went downstairs to join Sam and
Helena on the deck. It was 2 o’clock and Mrs. Crown had fixed tuna
sandwiches and Hawaiian potato chips for lunch.

“I can’t thank you enough for the clothes,
Mrs. Crown. I wrote down the amount. I’ll repay you someday,” said
Becky as she chomped a potato chip. “That’s a promise!”

“I’m sure you will, dear. Now, let’s eat, and
later you can take a swim. You do know how to swim, don’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m a good swimmer. I haven’t
been in the ocean for awhile, though,” replied Becky.

Sam went swimming with Becky because he
wanted to see for himself how good a swimmer she was. He didn’t
want to be responsible for her drowning. While they were in the
water, Sam’s father came home from his fishing trip and was briefed
by Helena on the Becky situation. Helena gave him the task of
figuring out what to do with Becky, subject to Helena’s rules: one,
no CPS; two, not on the street again; and three, solve the
schooling problem. Becky should not be forced to go through the
regular school system as intelligent as she was.

“That’s a big order,” replied John Crown as
he tamped tobacco into his pipe. “That’ll take a lot of
figuring.”

“Take your time. She’ll stay with us until
you come up with something. You can discuss it with Samuel. Maybe
he has some ideas. And I don’t want the child to know this, but
either you or Samuel will find the mother and that depraved
stepfather and see that they are properly punished!”

“Now, Helena . . .”

“Just do it! I mean it! He could be hurting
some other poor child! Take care of it! I know you know how to do
it.”

“Yes, dear.”

***

When Sam and Becky came up from the beach,
John Crown was drawn under Becky’s spell immediately. It could have
been that he thought of her as the grandchild he had always wanted,
but mostly it was Becky herself. She had a way about her that got
under people’s skin.

John Crown sat out on the deck, smoking his
pipe, and chatting with her while Sam and his mother began
preparing dinner. Sam was going to barbeque some steaks. Becky
asked John about his fishing trip, and his boat, and what kind of
bait he used. She asked him what kind of work he did before he
retired, and when he said he had worked for the CIA, she had some
more questions.