Betrayed: Powerful Stories of Kick-Ass Crime Survivors

by Allison Brennan

  Her lip quivered. “L-leave. Please?”

  Chris said, “Mrs. Becker, we want to help you. We want you and Lizzy to be safe. But you need to be honest with us. If you tell us Carlo hit you, we can make sure he never comes back here.”

  “You don’t understand what it’s like to be alone. Carlo is a good man, a good husband. He provides for us and, sure, sometimes he gets frustrated and we argue, and sometimes we get loud, but everyone argues. I need him and Lizzy needs a father. You can’t arrest him for an accident.”

  “We can and we will,” Jackie said.

  Chris looked down at his phone. He nodded to Jackie, then said, “Carlo Becker is in custody.”

  Marla gasped and put her hands to her mouth. “Is—is he okay?”

  “Yes, Marla, he was arrested without incident.”

  From the dining room table, Lizzy was watching them with her big brown eyes and a serious expression. The girl knew the truth and she was scared. But even more than that, she was protective of her mother.

  Jackie knew that feeling all too well. Looking at Marla with a mixture of worry, hate, and pity, she knew she should leave. Get out before she did something she couldn’t take back. She’d never hit a victim in her life, and she wasn’t going to start now, but damn was she angry.

  She stepped close to Marla, invading her personal space. Marla stepped back as Jackie said, “If you don’t stop this insanity, he’s going to kill you. Or your daughter. If you don’t care about your own life, save Lizzy from him.”

  Marla’s bottom lip quivered. “You are a mean, mean, mean person.”

  Yeah, Jackie could be very mean. Sometimes you had to tell people the hard truth before they could see it. She walked out of the house without another word and waited for Chris at the car. She craved a cigarette. She’d started smoking as a teenager, but gave it up—mostly—when she started at the police academy. Jackie had needed her lungs fully functioning to pass the physical tests. But every once in a while, especially when angry and frustrated, Jackie craved a smoke. Just one, long drag.

  She sent Rick a text message.

  I’m going to be late. Sorry.

  Chris came outside from the Beckers’ house. “We need to call CPS.”

  “They did shit last time.” Jackie hated bringing in Child Protective Services. Half the time they were so overworked they didn’t spot the problems if the kid appeared healthy and had a roof and food and school. If they did remove them from the house, foster care often wasn’t much better.

  “Jackie, they might not be able to do anything this time, but we’ll get it on record. The more calls and the more people watching this family will help us protect the child.”

  In a situation like this, there really wasn’t any other choice. Lizzy was six years old and needed to be protected. If her mother wouldn’t do it, they had to, and their only option was CPS.

  “I know you’re right.” Jackie pulled open the police vehicle door and sat heavily in the driver’s seat. “She’ll never testify against that asshole.”

  “We won’t need her to. Not with reckless endangerment. Maybe the DA will bump it up to attempted murder.”

  “And then what? Marla will stick around while Carlo does five-to-ten? Twenty if we get a hard-ass ADA and halfway decent jury. Or will Marla find another lowlife with meaty fists to pummel her when he gets frustrated? Well, I’m fucking frustrated and I don’t hit the first person in my way.”

  Even if she really wanted to.

  She drove off as soon as Chris closed his door. He put on his seatbelt and sighed heavily. “Slow down.”

  She ignored him.

  “Jack, you need to stop.”

  “Driving?”

  “Beating up on yourself.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Really?”

  “You don’t do sarcasm very well, Medina.”

  “I guess I haven’t picked up all your bad habits.”

  She took a deep breath. “I’m not beating on myself,” she said clearly. “Really. I’m just—I thought we were close last time, but she’s regressing.”

  “We were close, and we still are. But right now, she’s too emotional and scared. Her husband was just arrested. She knows this is a bad situation. Give her tonight to calm down, put herself together. We’ll talk to her in the morning. Carlo will be in jail. She’ll be rested.”

  “It’s your day off,” Jackie said.

  “It’s your day off too, Jack. Don’t tell me that you hadn’t planned to go to Becker’s arraignment as soon as you heard he’d been arrested.”

  She cracked a grin. “You know me well, partner.”

  “We’ll both go, catch Marla before court, help her see that we can help.”

  “It’s a good idea,” Jackie said.

  Having a plan took her anger down a notch. But the fear remained. And she didn’t even know what she was so scared about.

  Chapter Two

  It was well after ten o’clock by the time Jackie and Chris were done processing Carlo Becker and filing their report. Carlo wasn’t talking, had asked for his lawyer from the beginning, so it was just a matter of dotting I’s and crossing T’s. Shepherd was taking care of the initial report and medical update on his partner, Dominguez, so they didn’t have to wait around for that.

  Jackie knew she should go straight home because she was in a shitty mood, but seeing Marla Becker with her swollen eye got her thinking about Melissa. Thinking about her sister meant Jackie had to check on her.

  Melissa lived in midtown near McKinley Park, a ten-minute drive from police headquarters this time of night. Sure, it was a little out of the way for Jackie, but Melissa was the only family she had that she gave a shit about—that is, Melissa and her son, TJ.

  Melissa maintained the warped belief that because her husband worked hard, made good money, bought a nice house in a prestigious neighborhood, and sent their son to a private school that he had every right to pummel her. Even so, Melissa had only once admitted that Tom had hit her. It was nearly ten years ago, and Jackie pushed her to file charges, but shortly after that, Melissa learned she was pregnant and went back to him. Since, she denied he’d hurt her again, twisted the initial disclosure in her own head and insisted that Jackie had made a “mountain out of a molehill.”

  Jackie had periodically seen the bruises. Melissa denied Tom had ever touched her again, insisted that Jackie was seeing things or that she’d tripped or had hurt herself playing ball with TJ. She was so emphatic—to the point of complete confidence—that sometimes, Jackie doubted her instincts. That maybe Tom Stafford was the only abuser Jackie had met who had actually changed.

  But there were too many coincidences. Not just the occasional injuries, but times when Melissa jumped at the sound of Tom’s voice. A few odd, unexplained comments from her sister that, when pushed, Melissa refused to expand upon.

  The only time she’d come close to confiding the truth to Jackie was last year when Tom “accidentally” pushed her down the porch stairs. It was eight stairs down to the front walk and she’d whacked her head on the bricks, getting a nasty concussion and spraining her wrist. Melissa said Tom stumbled on a loose brick, accidentally bumped her, and she’d lost her footing.

  Because Rick was on duty at the hospital, he’d immediately called Jackie, and while Melissa was on pain killers, Jackie got something out of her.

  “We were arguing. He didn’t mean it.”

  “That’s what men like Tom always say. But they don’t stop. Give me the word and I’ll slap him with a restraining order and he’ll never touch you or TJ again.”

  “He would never hurt his son.”

  “He hurt you, Missy! You are just as important as TJ. You can’t let this continue.”

  “It was an accident. He didn’t mean to. I’m tired, Jackie. Please let me sleep.”

  Jackie pushed Melissa hard. She even had a cop friend of hers with Sacramento PD detain and question Tom. But in the end, Melissa and Tom synced their stories and no
charges were filed.

  Tom bought her two dozen red roses and treated her like a princess after she got out of the hospital because, as Melissa said, “He felt so bad about what happened.”

  “Will he put a dozen roses on your grave when he goes too far?” Jackie had snapped back.

  For that heated comment, Jackie was denied access to her nephew for two months. It didn’t help that once Jackie figured out that Tom was abusive she often got in his face. But TJ was the one good thing that had come out of Melissa and Tom’s marriage, the best part of Jackie’s family, so she’d learned to keep her mouth shut in order to see him. She also avoided going to their house when Tom was around.

  The one time Melissa left him, before she learned she was pregnant with TJ, it was because she’d discovered he’d slept with one of his waitresses. But then she found out she was pregnant, and remembered she loved Tom. He showered Melissa with affection and gifts during her pregnancy. He was sorry—he’d never cheat again. Melissa bought it, hook, line, and sinker.

  Right. Tom Stafford was an abuser and a cheater, and he would never be sorry or stop.

  Jackie kept even closer tabs on Melissa and Tom than she’d let on to anyone, except Rick. She would sometimes sit outside Tom’s restaurant and wait to catch him in a compromising position, but he kept his affairs better hidden, and Jackie couldn’t find proof without jeopardizing her surveillance. And time was also a factor—she had a demanding job and a boyfriend she cared about.

  Rick confronted her when he figured out what she was doing the nights he had a late shift. He was livid—not just because Jackie had become obsessed with protecting her sister and nephew, but because if Tom found out, he could file harassment charges. Jackie had backed off, but she still knew Tom’s schedule as well as she knew her own.

  Jackie couldn’t do anything outside of the law. It would destroy her career, damage Melissa, ruin TJ. Tom, of course, she could give a shit about.

  She had to get Melissa to come around on her own. And sometimes, Melissa would actually talk about it. Well, talk around it. Tom was a horny bastard who wanted to fuck every night, and once, after drinks, Melissa confided in Jackie that she was tired of having to put out whenever Tom wanted.

  “If you don’t want to have sex, don’t do it. If he forces you, it’s rape. Plain and simple, Missy.”

  “We’re married.”

  “That doesn’t mean he can fuck you whenever he feels like it.”

  “If I don’t do it, he’ll find someone who will.”

  “Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

  “Screw you, Jackie.”

  Yeah, she and her sister had a wonderful relationship.

  It was Thursday, which meant Tom wouldn’t be home until after midnight. The last thing she wanted was to run into him when she was still hyped up and angry after a domestic violence call.

  The lights were on at Melissa’s house, and Jackie doubted TJ was still up, though she hoped he was. She and her sister never fought around TJ.

  Jackie knocked on the front door.

  “Who is it?” Melissa asked a moment later.

  “Jackie.”

  Melissa opened the door. She was the blonder, shorter version of Jackie. “Hey—is something wrong? It’s late.”

  “I just got off duty, last call near here. Thought I’d swing by and ask what you’re doing for TJ’s birthday next weekend.”

  “Come in.”

  Jackie closed the door behind her and glanced around. “House looks nice.” Too nice. Tom was a neat freak, and it had worn off on Melissa. Or, rather, had been beaten into Melissa.

  She beamed. “Thank you.”

  “You look good too.”

  Melissa patted her mid-length bob. “Highlights.”

  “It suits you.” No bruises, at least none that showed. And she wasn’t wearing a long-sleeved shirt to cover them up.

  Don’t you buy into the myth that people like Tom Stafford can change.

  So, he doesn’t hit her every day. What abusers do? They can often go months without laying a rough hand on their wives and then they go off. Once is once too often.

  She sat down on the couch, glanced around. Nothing out of place. Not one speck of dust. What happened to Melissa when the house wasn’t to Tom’s satisfaction?

  “Want a drink? I have wine in the fridge.”

  “No, thanks.” God, yes, she wanted a drink, but she knew what would happen. Her tongue would develop a mind of its own, and she’d say or do something to make Melissa mad. Ironic—Melissa had a temper, would stand up for herself to anyone—except Tom.

  “Rick gets off work soon and he’s meeting me at my place. We both have tomorrow off.” Jackie would go in for Carlo Becker’s arraignment, but that was on her own time. “Is TJ in bed?”

  “Yeah, school night. I’ll tell him you came by.” Melissa sat across from her, tucked her legs to the side. A bracelet sparkled in the light. A sapphire and diamond tennis bracelet.

  “That’s pretty. New?”

  Melissa held up her wrist. “Tom gave it to me last weekend. Just because.”

  Five days ago … When had he last hurt her? Six days ago? Rough sex when she didn’t want to comply? Bruises where no one could see? Jackie knew Tom’s pattern. Hurt Melissa, then apologize with expensive presents.

  She didn’t say anything, though. She was here because she needed to make the effort, otherwise she’d never get to see her nephew.

  “Nice,” Jackie said.

  Melissa laughed. “I know, I know, you’re not into jewelry and fancy stuff. But it’s great when your husband remembers you, you know?”

  Don’t start something, Jack. Don’t do it.

  She changed the subject. “What are you doing for TJ’s birthday? He’s probably too old for Chuck E. Cheese.”

  “Yeah. They have other places, like with racing cars and trampolines and stuff like that, but this year, we’re going to Disneyland right after Christmas, so we decided to have the party here in the backyard. Games, cake, basics. If it rains, we’ll move it into the garage. A week from Saturday. I can’t believe he’s going to be nine.”

  “I wouldn’t miss it. What do you want me to bring? Or I can help set up. I’ll take the day off.”

  “I have everything taken care of, ordered the cake from Freeport Bakery.”

  “Yum.”

  “Right? And Mom’s coming over to help with the decorations.”

  Jackie scowled. She couldn’t help it.

  “Don’t start. She’s our mother.”

  “No comment.”

  “You are so unforgiving.”

  “Just—” She couldn’t have this conversation now with her sister. “Should I bring drinks? Balloons?”

  “No, just promise me you won’t fight with Mom. Please.”

  “Is she still visiting that prick Billy up in Folsom?”

  By Melissa’s silence, Jackie knew she was. Their mother’s third husband had a minimum of three more years on his five-to-ten sentence.

  “Bring Rick,” Melissa finally said. “He’ll keep you from going off on her. She’s done the best she can, Jackie. She was nineteen when she got pregnant with you. Dad at least married her. That’s better than most men.”

  “And the only good thing that came out of that was you,” Jackie said. “Shit, Melissa, he was a bastard and you know it.”

  Melissa wouldn’t look at her. She couldn’t defend him; those years had been miserable for both of them. But Melissa was younger. She never knew how bad it really was because Jackie had protected her.

  “I know, but he’s our dad.”

  “Not mine. I haven’t seen him since he went to prison, and he’s never getting out, which is fine by me.”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “You brought him up.”

  Melissa sighed. “Just—promise me you’ll be nice to Mom.”

  “I’m always nice to her. Until she mentions Billy.”

  “He’s still her husb
and.”

  “Because she has no self-esteem and won’t divorce him.”

  “I’ll talk to her, okay?”

  Jackie sighed. “I’ll try to bite my tongue. For TJ, not Mom.”

  “Thank you. Are you sure you don’t want wine?”

  “I should go. Rick’s waiting for me.”

  “It’s been over two years, right?”

  “What?”

  “You and Rick have been dating for two years.”

  Jackie nodded. It had actually been nearly two and a half years, but she wasn’t all that romantic. Not romantic enough to remember anniversaries and celebrate them … though she and Rick had gone to Lake Tahoe for a week at the end of July, and it was sort of a quasi-anniversary trip. She hadn’t been that relaxed in… well, ever.

  “So, when are you going to get married?”

  “Never. We like things the way they are.”

  “But two years—you should know if he’s the right guy by now. If not, why are you still with him?”

  Rick was the best guy she’d ever had in her life, and no way was she going to blow it. But that didn’t mean they had to get married. They never even talked about it. “He’s at my place more often than not. We’re good. Marriage—well, it’s not for me.”

  Understatement.

  “He’s going to want kids someday. You’re thirty-three. You don’t have a lot of time.”

  “I’m not having kids, and damn, I’m not old,” Jackie said. “Geez, what’s with you?” Why had she come over here?

  Right. To make sure your sister was alive and breathing. Check on your nephew.

  “Rick is so good with TJ. I just know he wants his own kids. Don’t you think he’d make a great dad?”

  Jackie had never thought about it, and Rick sure as hell had never brought it up with her. “Whatever. It is what it is, and if he wants the marriage and kid and white picket fence life, he knows he’s not getting it with me.” She sounded like a total bitch. The thought that Rick would leave her for any reason bothered her. She’d miss him. A lot.