The Common Thread (28 page)

“No offense taken. I laugh at them, too.”

“Are you close?”

“We are. Ricky is a computer geek and he moved to California, so we only see him on vacations. My family usually goes away together to someplace fun like Peru or China—it’s a great time to bond. Rhonda is a teacher and lives in the house next to my parents, with her two kids and two dogs and a big, hairy husband.”

Nic stifled a yawn. “What’s your brother-in-law’s name?”

“Ned.”

“Oh, wow. How’d he slip through?”

“Ron was pregnant, so their hand was forced.”

Nic wondered what it might be like at the Rhodes house, with a big R on the garage and a multitude of intelligent people debating things like liquor licenses in the state of Pennsylvania and a destination for their next exotic trip. It would probably be a bit more entertaining than a family meal at her parents’. As she drifted off to sleep, she imagined herself in the picture with them, she and Ned wearing monogrammed N sweaters, drifting in a sea of Rs
.

During her time in the hospital, and later when she was recovering from her ankle surgeries, Jet often dreamed of a day in court. She’d stand before the judge, who towered over her, and be pronounced guilty. In her dream his voice echoed.
Guilty, guilty, guilty.
With her heart pounding and her body drenched in sweat she’d awaken, the sweet relief of consciousness burying once again what she couldn’t bear to face.

Her day in court had never come, and the nightmares had faded over time, but their memory was so powerful that just the thought of a courthouse triggered a panic like she’d never known. So, in addition to the fears she faced with Katie in the SICU and her shooter on the loose, Jet now faced the nightmare of a courtroom.

Sometime during a long night, after Katie’s twin sister had fled the building and before the change of shift, a social worker had appeared at the hospital. The woman’s concern was with Chloe and Andre, and she’d approached Jet and Jeannie for information. When neither of them gave her satisfaction, she announced a hearing, to be held in the morning, to determine the custody of Katie’s minor children. Anyone with knowledge of their whereabouts was asked to come forth, as was anyone interested in taking custody of them.

Jet knew there was no one else, so while her body and mind begged for rest, she was forced to face the fears that had haunted her, knowing that having Chloe and Andre go into foster care was an even bigger nightmare than what she’d endured.

She sipped her coffee and waited for it to work, needing to get through this hearing and through the day. Her parents still had Katie’s kids, and Jet didn’t see a point in having them come to the courthouse. They were safe in a bubble of ignorance, protected by her parents and the innocence that gave credence to the excuses being made for their mother. They’d stay in Ambler, oblivious, until her parents told her that strategy was no longer working. Then she’d take them home, to her apartment, and care for them until Katie could.

In her heart of hearts Jet knew Katie would want Chloe and Andre to be with her, and she intended to do her best to prove herself worthy of Katie’s trust. She could handle the kids. Hell, Katie did it every single day, and somehow she managed. Jet needed to just keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep them safe, and also let them know how very loved they were.

She’d stopped by her apartment for a quick shower and a change of clothes before heading to the hearing. She’d worn scrubs in the ER for years, and wore casual clothes to the clinic, but for this occasion she pulled her only suit from the dry cleaner’s plastic. With a crisp white shirt and shiny black loafers, Jet thought she looked worthy. Although the hearing was a technicality—no one else in the world had a claim to Chloe and Andre—she wanted to make a good impression on the judge. Now as she waited in the hallway, sitting erect on a hard wooden bench, she felt the decision to present herself in a professional manner had been wise. All around her people shuffled about, some on their way to meet their own fates, others just doing their jobs, young and old, people of all races. They all had made the same effort as Jet, though, looking clean and wearing clothing appropriate to the occasion.

A few minutes before the appointed time, Jet noted with disdain the appearance of the social worker, dressed to kill and wearing a matching expression upon her face. A slight nod as she passed Jet was her only acknowledgment. Her demeanor the night before had been professional; nothing in her words or actions indicated she held any opinion in the matter of the guardianship of Katie’s kids, yet Jet had a
feeling
the woman had passed judgment on Katie. She had another feeling now, and it was telling her something was amiss.

As soon as the woman entered into the courtroom, Jet followed. Unsure of protocol, she didn’t want to miss the proceedings while she waited in the hallway for a summons. This woman knew the ropes, and Jet figured if she kept an eye on her and followed her, she’d be just where she needed to be.

The courtroom was unimpressive, with plain oak paneling on the walls and a white plaster ceiling shining light down onto six rows of gallery seating, and beyond the bar two small tables, the jury box, and above it all, at the very back, the bench. The seal of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania adorned the wall behind the bench, and flags of the commonwealth and the country stood beside it.

Others were already seated in the first row on the left, and they turned to survey her skeptically as she walked in. Jet had a seat on the right. That section was all hers. In front of her, the social worker was speaking with a man in a suit, talking in an animated manner but with a hushed voice that didn’t reach Jet’s ears. A stenographer was seated to the left of the bench, talking with the bailiff. No one else was in the room.

Jet studied the four people across from her—an older man, who appeared to be in his eighties, with hunched posture and wearing an ill-fitting suit. A woman of fifty, probably his daughter, with bleached-blond hair and too generous a supply of cosmetics, no doubt to hide the wrinkles that had appeared in all the usual places. Her business suit was just a little too tight, and though once she’d probably had the figure to wear it, that day had passed. Two teenage girls accompanied them, also wearing too much makeup, also with hair a shade too light to be natural, and both wearing skirts that barely covered their ass cheeks.

As Jet watched them, she noted the two girls arguing in a hushed tone. She couldn’t hear their words, but their gestures told Jet all she needed to know about them. They were trouble. The girls elbowed each other, made faces, and gave attitude to both their elders. The grandfather shook his head in a gesture of apparent disgust, and behind his back, their mother pointed her middle finger at them and told them, in a voice that resonated through the room, to shut their traps.

Jet tried not to make presumptions but sent a silent prayer that, if they were also before the court on a child-custody matter, His Honor wouldn’t rule in favor of these unsavory people.

On cue, Judge Michael Rova entered, and the proceedings began. The social worker sat at the table to the right, and the man in the suit sat at the left. “Where are these children?” he inquired after the intent of the hearing was stated.

The suited man jumped from his seat at the table, eager to answer the judge. “Your Honor, that’s a great question. They haven’t been seen since their mother abducted them from police custody almost thirty-six hours ago.”

Jet wanted to jump up and defend Katie, but before she could, the social worker spoke. “We don’t know their present location. We hope to get to the bottom of that today.”

“Well, clearly, Your Honor, this matter must be resolved. Two small children are out there somewhere with no one looking out for their welfare.”

Who was this guy? How the hell did he know anything about Chloe and Andre and their welfare?

Jet stood and raised her hand, as if back in school. How else did you get the attention of a judge if you weren’t seated at the attorney’s tables? He noticed her and nodded in her direction as he addressed her. “You, do you know something about this matter?”

“Actually, I do. My name is Janet Fox, and my parents are watching Chloe and Andre. They were babysitting for them when their mother was shot. Since she couldn’t come to get them, they’re still there.”

“Well, why aren’t they here?” he demanded in a booming voice that echoed through the empty hall.

“No one told me to bring them.” Jet shrugged and held out her palms.

The attorney glared at her before turning to face the judge again. “Well, Your Honor, now that we know where they are, can we proceed with the temporary custody hearing?” he asked.

The judge nodded again and looked toward the social worker. “I think that would be appropriate. Miss Landry, who, in your opinion, should be made guardian of these children?”

Jet wanted to raise her hand again. Miss Landry didn’t even know her name—

how could she make a recommendation?

Before she could try, Miss Landry replied to the judge’s question. “Your Honor, it has come to my attention that the children’s maternal grandparents, Mr. and Mrs. Jack Finan, would like to care for them until their mother is able to resume her parental duties.”

Jet sucked in her breath and looked suspiciously at the bunch in the front row behind the lawyer. Shit! This had to be Katie’s father and his second family. Why the hell would they show up now, after all these years, when they hadn’t seen Katie since she ran away? They didn’t even know Chloe and Andre.

Before she could object, the man in the suit addressed the judge. “Your Honor, I represent Mr. Finan, and he would indeed like to assume custody of his grandchildren.”

The judge nodded still again. “It always makes it easier when family helps out in a situation like this.”

Jet couldn’t contain herself any longer. If she didn’t interrupt, he’d swing his gavel and close this case and Katie’s kids would be in the clutches of that horrific family. “Your Honor!” she shouted, and as he looked at her, everyone in the room turned to glare at her.

“What is it?”

“Your Honor, I am…” Jet thought for a moment. Who was she to Katie? She certainly couldn’t claim the title of partner. Although she had no doubt that was the next step for them, they didn’t currently share a residence. “Friend” didn’t seem to adequately describe the nature of their relationship or the depth of their feelings. Was “lover” too strong a word to use in court? Fuck, it was the truth. “I’m Katie Finan’s lover. I came here today expecting to get custody of her children, because I know them, and I love them, and they love me. They sleep at my house and I know their routines…I’m the best person to take care of them, sir.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, miss.”

“But your honor, Katie ran away from them.” Jet pointed at her father and his family. “They were neglectful and abusive toward her and—”

Before she could utter another word, the Finans’ attorney was on his feet, waving his arms, objecting to her inflammatory remarks. The lot of them had turned in her direction as she spoke and were glaring at her, shooting daggers with their eyes, and one of the teenagers aimed the middle finger of her right hand in Jet’s direction.

“Counselor, let the woman speak, please.” The judge’s voice was loud and commanding and they all heeded its silent warning.

“Thank you, sir,” Jet said, and once again waved a hand in the Finan family’s direction. “They may have good intentions, Your Honor, but they don’t know these children. It would frighten the kids and disrupt their lives to have to go live with strangers.”

“Your Honor.” The lawyer objected loudly. “These are not strangers. They are flesh and blood.”

The judge stared directly at Jet, and she couldn’t help feeling small beneath his gaze, suddenly exposed and vulnerable beneath the microscope of the courts. It was her nightmare all over again, yet very real this time. “I tend to agree with him, Miss Fox. I am strongly inclined to assign guardianship to their grandfather. No matter how you may feel about them, and how they feel about you in return, there is no stronger bond than blood.”

Jet felt flushed and anxious and her knees suddenly threatened to give way. Reaching out, she managed to grab the back of the pew in front of her, maintaining her balance and, in turn, her composure. She couldn’t lose the children to those people. Even for one day. She took a deep breath and hoped this idea that had spontaneously popped into her mind wasn’t total foolishness, that she could pull it off.

“Actually, Your Honor, Mr. Finan and his family are not Katie’s blood relatives. Katie was adopted. But if blood is what you want, would you consider granting custody to Katie’s twin sister?”

The suit erupted in objections once again, but the moans and shouts from the Finan family drowned out his cries.

“That’s a lie!” Mrs. Finan said, but Jet noted that Mr. Finan was still seated and very quiet.

“Miss Fox, these are very strong accusations.”

“Yes, Your Honor, but they’re easy enough to prove.” Jet turned slightly and faced Katie’s dad. She wanted to punch him, but he was so pathetic she didn’t think he was worth the effort. “Mr. Finan, you know hospital records are easy enough to locate. Tell the judge the truth.”

“Tell me the truth, Mr. Finan, or be held accountable to the court.”

His voice was rough and weak, the result of too much tobacco and booze and not enough breath. “She was adopted. But I don’t see what that matters. I’m the only family she has.”

“No, not true, Mr. Finan. You know Katie has a twin. Remember the other girl—the one you wouldn’t adopt because your house was too small? She and Katie are like this.” Jet crossed her fingers to show him their sisterly bond and to hope lying before the judge wouldn’t get her into trouble. “She’ll take the kids.”

“Well, why isn’t she here now?” the judge demanded.

Jet apologized to the court, explaining her surprise at the sudden reappearance of Katie’s family in the court this morning. She hadn’t even considered that they would want Chloe and Andre, since they’d never even met them. It had never occurred to Jet to ask for Nicole Coussart’s help, and she only hoped that if she had to, Nic would be willing. So far, Katie’s sister didn’t seem very friendly.