Equal Access (31 page)

Shad’s discovery that Jill had unwittingly
referred to his hidden affliction one day emerging again made Shad
more appreciative of Jill’s intuition. But even with the gift of
insight that ran deeply in the women descended from Margaret Leeds,
none of them had guessed why Shad was brought among them. Erin was
the first to sense he shouldn’t go into state custody, and Mam
followed through. They didn’t know why it was important, they
simply obeyed. Shad hoped they would never find out, at least not
before the day they stood before God.

He could have been born with his affliction,
but the darker demon had been nurtured through Shad’s suffering.
Without serious intervention the two would have combined to make
Shad into a predator of dreadful stature – of this he was certain.
Mam and Pap had no idea the meek child they brought into their
lives harbored a pestilence that grew as Shad grew older. It wanted
Shad to accept his affliction because through it the demon would
prosper.

So until Shad’s senior year in high school he
struggled back and forth with the pedophilia, which seemed to match
his struggle with accepting faith. Sometimes he mastered it as
wrong, but more often he flirted with the notion this was the way
he was made, so Shad should allow that impulse to eventually be
satisfied. Had he gone into foster care, Shad knew he would have
remained in an urban or suburban atmosphere. He would have been
where little girls would be accessible. He would have given in.

Mam and Pap provided more than a stable,
loving home life, which even a foster family could have given him.
The gift that kept Shad from becoming a monster was the isolation
that their rural lifestyle and peculiarly old-fashioned ways
enforced. School, church, and Boy Scouts comprised Shad’s social
life. Otherwise he was with his family or alone. Never, ever, did
the opportunity present itself for Shad to give in to his baser
self, and thus he was able to say that he had never inappropriately
touched a child ... thank God.

Shad was more Jungian in his approach to
psychology, but there was one aspect of Freud’s theories he had to
admit wasn’t so nuts, after all: The fabric of society all boiled
down to sex. Culture was the main difference that separated
humanity from the animals, and culture existed because primitive
women gave birth to the most helpless infants of all Earth’s
creatures. Survival of the fittest meant she who selected the man
who consistently dragged something back to the cave was able to
rear their children to adulthood, who in turn would have children
of their own. And by giving herself exclusively to that man,
guaranteeing the children he provided for were his, relationships
became based on bonding and trust. Families expanded into societies
that flourished through cooperation, not by submitting to the will
of the guy who could beat everybody else up. Virtuous women kept
men civilized. Shad knew he was no saint, yet he made many
improvements in his life in order to meet the standards Shad knew
Dulsie would have, and there was no measuring his gratitude that he
was the one she selected.

Back in the mid-eighteen hundreds Quaid
promptly married Grace because it was scandalous for him to
otherwise remain under her roof after he healed from his wounds.
And while it was true people had misbehaved throughout history, it
was also true that expectations had changed. Today the denizens of
popular culture saw nothing wrong with cohabiting before marriage,
assuming they bothered to marry at all. Physical intimacy was
quickly wrested from its practical, more evolved application, and
became demoted to recreation or self-realization. Thus began the
slide back to the “Dark Age” as each variant of sexual misbehavior
accepted by society led to another, unraveling its very fabric.

Today most people were scandalized by the
thought of adults having sexual relations with children. But Shad
could see how in another century or two the efforts of the
activists could pay off. “Child Love” might be the last aberration
admitted, but once every other “alternative” became approved, why
not? Their plea for tolerance would become accepted in a culture
that had already decided sex was just another commodity anybody
could enjoy in any form they could imagine.

The consultation in Charissa’s bedroom had
been the most challenging event for Shad in regard to the
pedophilia, and he felt an extra dose of self-loathing as he
reconsidered her dilemma now. But what about all that time she had
spent with Vic before today? After an initial flash of panic, Shad
consoled himself that if there was any intuition he did possess, it
was the ability to pick up cues from abuse victims. At least as of
the last time Shad was with her, the only symptoms of abuse he
noticed were those imposed by her father.

So what had Vic been waiting for? Shad felt
distinctly uncomfortable trying to analyze this criminal’s mind. He
was still convinced Vic’s motivation was rooted in entitlement, not
attraction. In other words, Shad was dealing with somebody like
Brody, not Wally. That urge to crawl out of his own skin swept
through him again.

Vic had obviously been one to play it safe if
he chose victims who were unable to divulge his activity. His
initial interest in the ring’s website was probably just to indulge
in another genre of pornography. But he would have recognized
Charissa’s vulnerability and most likely found it provocative.
Maybe Vic had been biding his time, waiting for Charissa to reach
some opportune moment that would keep his assault hidden.

For Vic to break out of his routine he had to
decide this action was worth the risk. If he figured the police
were going to come after him anyway for his involvement in a murder
conspiracy, Vic might have decided to take Charissa with him as
“consolation” while he went on the lam. Shad berated himself for
his knee-jerk reaction of trying to keep Vic away from Charissa.
His request had probably alerted Vic that the secret had been
uncovered.

So many secrets and so little time. Everybody
including Shad had something to hide. Secrets were really such a
simple thing, but they added complications in so many ways. As
often as they were used to conceal something dark and despicable
they were also useful in plans to share joy and celebration.

Secrets....

Charissa’s voice drifted to the surface of
his memory. “Vic is gonna take us to his friend Drake’s houseboat
one day. But he said not to tell Mom because it was a
surprise.”

Charissa had told him one of Vic’s secrets.
Could that be the clue Shad was looking for?

But what houseboat? Like any other vehicle it
would have to be registered, but in a region with two large rivers
and a nearby reservoir, that meant there could only be, what, a
thousand or more? And who was this friend named Drake?

If Vic decided to lay low for a while, maybe
wait for the cover of darkness, he would need somewhere private to
stay. Could it also be possible that as the accessory Vic would
hide out with the actual triggerman? Shad felt the rage stir and
pushed it back down.

It was a long shot, only one of many
scenarios Vic might decide to play out, and one that law
enforcement might not be able to investigate immediately. Even if
Shad tipped them off, he’d never forgive himself if that trail
proved to be cold while the police missed the one that led to
Charissa. Let them follow the more promising leads, but Shad owed
it to Charissa to ensure no stone was left unturned.

Hopefully a name like Drake would prove
unique, but Shad needed access to the internet. Everything
metropolitan was behind him – there were only small towns on this
highway from here to Jeff. Restaurants, book stores, and hotels
were few and far between. Shad pulled the car off on a little side
road long enough to unpack his laptop and open it on the seat
beside him. He was about to give the term “drive-by download” a
whole different meaning.

When Shad neared the next town he turned the
computer on and monitored it while he coasted the car well below
the speed limit. His gamble paid off. The laptop connected to a
signal and Shad immediately turned the car toward the building that
had to be its source. Parking was located right in front of the
shop, and as Shad looked up while he turned off the engine he
noticed it was an antique store. The irony didn’t escape him.

Shad diverted full attention to the computer
while he hacked into the website that would give him the
information he needed. On one hand it didn’t take long because it
was a domain he’d trespassed many times, and the Department of
Revenue would probably be the highest bidder for his hide if they
knew how often he’d been here. On the other hand the connection was
a bit weak and Shad had to endure frustration as the computer
occasionally stalled.

It didn’t take long at all for the car to
heat up. Shad rolled down the windows and continued to scan the
listings for that one name. After several more minutes he had to
pull out his handkerchief in order to dab his brow
occasionally.

Nothing, nothing, nothing.... Time kept
ticking by and still Shad didn’t see the name he was looking for.
The sweat was beginning to soak through his shirt and his mouth was
unquestionably getting dry. What if he never found it? What if he
missed it?

And then there it was. Houseboat owner Drake
Anderson lived in the next county south of where Monica lived.

Shad copied the address and switched to his
favorite map program to locate how to get there. He did make a
quick stop at a nearby convenience store to get a drink of tea and
a bag of peanuts before Shad drove toward the residence with the
car’s air conditioner on full blast.

Peace is a gift, but it does not come magically
through our passivity. Only in our faithful response to God’s call
do we receive God’s peace.

--Sandra Cronk

The house Shad sought out looked the way he
expected, except there were no other houses nearby, which did
surprise Shad a little. The light blue, frame structure was built
up on pilings, which anybody who dared to live right next to a
river as dynamic as the Osage would be wise to have. And as Shad
approached the premises he noticed there was a white houseboat
docked at a pier behind the house.

There were no vehicles parked in front, and a
closed garage didn’t offer much suggestion if anybody was already
here. Shad parked the car and shut off the engine. He picked up his
cell phone and dialed the number to the Sheriff’s office. When the
dispatcher picked up Shad gave his name and the address of his
location, and then simply stated, “Send a patrol car out here if I
don’t call back in five minutes. It’ll mean there’s been a
disturbance.” Shad hung up.

His heart seemed to be pounding at its
regular rate but with more effort than usual. The logical place to
go would be the boat. Even if there was anybody at the house,
talking might be useful only if the boat were empty. So Shad left
the car and walked down beside the house and into the back
yard.

His phone in the shorts pocket began to ring,
and Shad quickly glanced at it to see the sheriff’s office was
calling him back. Shad ignored the call and set his phone to
silent.

A patio that sloped up to the house on one
side led toward the large floating dock on the other side. At the
end of the dock was moored the large, white, tiered boat. A
ten-foot jon boat with a prop motor was tied to the other side of
the dock. His heart still thumping, Shad stepped over to the patio
and walked out on the dock.

The river was a little higher than it had
been lately, the current swifter. Last night’s rain had been
widespread, and it was possible the electric company had also
released water from the dam upstream to keep everybody’s air
conditioners running. These were not prime conditions for swimming.
He stopped at the edge of the dock, looked back at the house, then
hopped down onto the deck of the boat.

The vessel seemed well cared for although it
did show signs of wear over the years. Shad stepped over to the
entrance of the boat’s cabin and ducked his head inside. The
interior had the ambience of twilight, and Shad scanned over the
kitchen and dining area. There was nothing more than small cabinets
around a tiny sink and a table set only with an empty, black bowl
in its center.

Shad stepped inside and realized he was
barely breathing because he was listening so intently. The murmur
of the river was almost a distraction. The inside of the cabin was
otherwise silent.

There was a small wooden door at the other
end of the cabin which Shad figured led to the sleeping quarters.
It took him only a few steps to reach it, but when Shad placed his
hand on the knob to open it, he discovered it was locked. Shad
placed an ear against the door, listened, but still didn’t hear
anything.

Shad kept his voice clear and low.
“Charissa?”

A muffled squeal erupted from the other side
so immediately Shad almost jumped. He rattled the doorknob again,
and then banged his shoulder against the door. The squealing
continued unabated as Shad stepped back and kicked the door in.

Charissa was kneeling on a platform bed just
inside the door. Duct tape was wrapped around her mouth and her
hands were bound by thick cording behind her back. Her eyes widened
as her squealing became louder.

“Charissa!” Shad strode to her and starting
picking at a corner of the tape near her ear. The girl cringed as
he tugged at it, but Shad realized what he was going to have to do.
“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t give Charissa time to wonder what
he meant. Shad ripped off the tape with a swift pull.

“
Ow
!” Charissa winced and pulled away
from him.

Shad started digging out the buffalo-horn
handle pocket knife he always carried from his shorts pocket.
“Everything’s gonna be all right. I’m gonna get you outta
here.”