Four Horsemen: A Small Town Romance (A Good Run Of Bad Luck Book 5)

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Four Horsemen: A Small Town Romance (A Good Run Of Bad Luck Book 5) Page 2

by Giulia Lagomarsino


  She frowned at me, glancing back nervously into the house. “Like CPS?”

  “Yes,” I confirmed. “I just need a few moments of your time.”

  “What is this about?”

  “We received an anonymous tip that your son had some bruises on his arms that were concerning. I’m just here to look into that.”

  “No, I…my son is fine. There’s no need to look into anything. I would never hurt my son.”

  By the expression on her face, it wasn’t just her son that was being abused. I’d seen that look before, the fear in her eyes if her husband found out someone was questioning her welfare. Although it wasn’t always the husband, I would bet my life it was this time. The woman practically curled in on herself the moment she found out who I was. And the way she kept looking over her shoulder, like she needed to make sure something or someone stayed hidden was very telling.

  “I’m sure you would never hurt your son, but I am required by law to investigate every tip I receive.”

  “But I don’t have to let you in,” she said almost defensively. “I know my rights.”

  That only confirmed in my mind that she had been through this before. Although it wasn’t in her record, the family had only moved here recently. I would have to dig into this further once I got back to the office. If they lived in a different state, it could take some time to get those records. In the meantime, I needed to make sure this woman and her son were safe. I considered calling the cops for a well check, but I had a feeling if I kept things calm with this woman, I could get inside and check on her and her son.

  “You’re absolutely right. I can’t come into your home without your permission. But honestly, all I need is to see that you and your son are safe. If I could ask him a few questions, I can close this case much faster. If you don’t let me in, I’ll just have to come back at a later time. And if any more reports are made, I’ll eventually have to get a court order to talk to your son. I really don’t want to have to do that, Mrs. Woods.”

  She glanced behind her again, rubbing at the bruise on her arm. As her head was turned, I quickly inspected any visible skin for signs of other bruising, but didn’t see any. When she turned back to me, she gave a hesitant nod and opened the door for me.

  “Just for a few minutes.”

  “Of course.”

  I smiled and stepped into her house, immediately checking everything out. There were no weapons in sight and the house appeared to be well kept. Most of the furniture appeared older, but in good condition. It wasn’t something I hadn’t seen a million times before. Sometimes abusive husbands were drunks. Sometimes they were the perfect spouse to everyone in the community, but a tyrant behind closed doors. I suspected the latter in this situation.

  “Is Caleb home?” I asked, even though I knew he should be.

  “He’s in his room playing.”

  “That’s fine. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions first?”

  She looked at the clock on the wall and then nodded. “Sure. Please take a seat.”

  I sat on the couch beside her and asked her every question I could. She denied ever being abused, though the answers were slightly too forceful for my liking. She fidgeted a lot, her hands trailing over different parts of her body as she spoke, almost as if she was remembering each bruise or possibly broken bone. It was clear I wasn’t getting much out of her, but I might have more luck with the son.

  “My file says that Caleb is five and in preschool,” I smiled. “It’s a very exciting age.”

  She gave her first true smile. “He’s a very smart boy. I wanted him to go to kindergarten this year, but his birthday was just past the cut off.”

  I nodded. “Well, he’ll be the smartest kid in his class next year.”

  “He’s already the smartest kid in his class,” she beamed. “I know he’s only in preschool, but he’s already reading and he writes so well.”

  “It’s my understanding that boys have a harder time learning to write than girls.”

  “Not my Caleb,” she beamed. “He’s been drawing since he was just a little guy.” Grabbing a notepad off the table, she handed it to me. “He’s going to be an artist someday.”

  I flipped open the notebook and looked at the pictures inside. He was a good little artist for his age. However, what I noticed more than anything was that the pictures were all of just him and his mother. He never included his father in any of the pictures. I looked at one he drew where they were at the park.

  “That’s his favorite park. We go there every day that he’s not in preschool. I pack a picnic basket and he plays on the playground. He just loves being outside.”

  Her smile faded as she looked at the clock on the wall again. I followed her gaze, noting it was still way too early for lunch.

  “Will you be going soon?”

  “Oh no,” she said, her eyes darting down to her hands as she started wringing them together. “His father works the third shift at the factory, so we usually try to leave after he gets home so he can sleep during the day.”

  I nodded, wondering if that’s why she was so nervous and wanted me gone. She was expecting her husband home soon. “That must be hard.”

  “What?” she asked abruptly.

  “For your husband to work such odd hours. It must be hard to get in family time.”

  “We make it work.”

  I could tell she was getting uncomfortable, and if her husband was on his way home, I needed to talk to Caleb beforehand.

  “How about I speak with Caleb for a few minutes and then I can get out of your way?”

  Again, she watched the clock before answering. “Maybe you should just leave now,” she said, standing and walking to the front window.

  “I promise, I’ll only be a few minutes.”

  I needed to at least see him, to make sure he was okay.

  She fingered the necklace dangling down her chest and nodded, then turned for the hallway. I would give anything to dig around the house, but I wasn’t permitted without her giving the okay. I knew that was pushing too far on this first visit. Normally, I was a little more forceful when it came to dealing with parents where abuse was suspected, but my instincts were screaming that she was a battered woman, and I needed to take this easy and build a case. I needed proof, and so far, all I had was a jumpy woman that wanted me to leave.

  A little boy walked down the hall holding his mom’s hand. He was a cute thing with a mop of brown hair on his head. His clothes were clean and appeared well cared for, but that fading bruise on his cheek had me seeing red.

  “Hi, Caleb. My name is Christy.”

  He didn’t look up at me right away, instead looking at his mom first.

  “Christy just wants to ask you a few questions,” his mom prodded.

  When he still didn’t look at me, my eyes went to the kitchen, searching out anything I could use to help me out. On top of the cabinet was a box of animal crackers.

  “You know what? I’m really hungry. Do you have any cookies or crackers I could eat?”

  Mrs. Woods looked at me warily, but nodded. She went into the kitchen as I took a seat on the couch and picked up Caleb’s notebook. “Your mom was showing me your drawings. You’re very talented.”

  “Thanks,” he said quietly.

  “Do you want to be an artist when you grow up?”

  “What’s that?” he asked, his nose scrunching up at me.

  “That’s someone who draws or paints as a job.”

  “Really?”

  I nodded. “That’s pretty cool, right?”

  He glanced down at his notebook and grinned slightly.

  “I see you draw a lot of pictures with your mom. Do you have any with your dad?”

  His smile dropped and he shook his head. “He…he works a lot.”

  “Yeah, dad’s do that sometimes. But your mom said that you go to the park a lot. Is that where you got that bruise on your face?”

  His hand went to his face and he frowned, not answ
ering the question.

  “You know, sometimes people get mad and they hit other people. That’s not okay, is it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Has anyone ever hit you?”

  He looked up at me, his eyes shimmering slightly with tears, but before he could answer, his mom walked back into the room with some cookies and milk. When she saw the look on his face, she set down the tray and pursed her lips.

  “I think you should go now.”

  “Mrs. Woods—”

  “It’s almost time for us to get ready for the park.”

  It was a lie and we both knew it, but she wanted me to leave. Legally, I wasn’t allowed to stay if she asked me to go. Picking up my purse, I pulled out a card and handed it over to her.

  “I’ll need to stop by for another visit.” Purposefully glancing at the clock, I looked back at her and smiled. “Maybe you could call me and set up a time that would be more convenient. Maybe when you go to the park.”

  She hesitantly reached out and took the card from me, slipping it into her pocket. She headed for the door, so I took the opportunity to talk to Caleb one last time.

  Squatting down at eye level, I took his hand in mine. “If you ever don’t feel safe, or if you think your mom might not be safe, you know to dial 9-1-1, right?”

  His eyes went wide and he shook his head slightly. Understanding, I pulled out another card. Slipping it in his palm, I closed his hand around it.

  “Here’s my number. That’s my cell phone number, so if you call, I’ll answer, okay?”

  He didn’t answer right away, so I continued.

  “Caleb, I just want to make sure you feel safe. So, if at any time you need me, or you want to talk, you just dial that number and I’ll answer. Okay?”

  He nodded slightly and tucked the card in his pocket. As I stood up, everything in me screamed to take them with me. There were signs of abuse, but nothing concrete. No judge would grant me a court order to remove Caleb from the home based on what I’d seen today. As for the mother, I could tell she was doing her best under the circumstances, but she needed that shove to get out the door. If she didn’t, would she and Caleb survive?

  I gathered my things and walked out of the house, but every step made my gut churn. I glanced back one last time, but the mom had already closed the door. As I got in my car, I thought about calling the police, but it wouldn’t do me any good. There was nothing they could do besides a well check, and I’d just been there. All I could do was finish my day, write up my reports, and pray Mrs. Woods decided to get out before it was too late.

  After I had completed all my home checks, I headed back to the office. It was well past quitting time, but I still had to write up my reports. I stopped on the way and picked up some food. I would have to eat at the office so I didn’t starve before I got home. When I walked back in the building, almost everyone had gone home for the day. Katherine walked out of her office as she saw me and followed me into mine.

  “What happened at the Woods’ house today?”

  Sighing, I set my things down and plopped down in the chair. “I think both the mom and the son are being abused. I took it pretty easy on her so I could get in the house and check on the son. She had some bruising, and she kept watching the clock. She said her husband works the third shift. It was clear she didn’t want him to know I had been there.”

  “And what about the son?”

  “He had some bruising, but without a full exam it’s hard to say how bad it is. They both spend a lot of time away from the house when the dad’s home, from what she told me. I gave her my card and hinted for her to call me when she was away from her husband.”

  “If she doesn’t, you’ll have to do another home visit.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think she’ll let me in a second time. She was too skittish. There’s no way to get a court order based on what I saw today.”

  “Christy, we can ask the daycare to report any more abuse they may see, but other than that, our hands are tied unless we have some evidence of abuse. You need to get back inside that house.”

  “And if I show up when the dad is home, I can guarantee it won’t turn out well for either of them.”

  She was quiet for a moment. There wasn’t much to say in cases like this. It could take multiple home visits to finally get enough evidence for a court order. And in that time, how much would the child suffer? I hated that my hands were tied. I knew the laws were in place for a reason, but in cases like this, I felt completely helpless.

  I finished up my work for the night and shut down my computer. I was tired and wiped out from the stress of today. After waving goodnight to Katherine, I got in my car and headed home. When my phone rang on the way home, I knew it was my mom. She always called later in the evening because she knew I worked late. I slipped my earbud in my ear and clicked it on.

  “Hey, Mom.”

  There was silence on the other end and I picked up my phone to make sure I had answered the call.

  “Hello?”

  “I’m scared,” a small voice said over the line.

  “Caleb?” I asked, pulling over on the side of the road. I put on my hazard lights and listened intently. “Caleb, is that you?”

  I heard him sniffle and then shuffle around, like he was trying to get someplace. “You said to call.”

  “Caleb, are you safe?”

  He didn’t answer, but I heard a woman scream in the background. I quickly turned off my hazard lights and shifted into drive. Pulling out into traffic, I tried to figure out the quickest way to get to his house.

  “Caleb, talk to me. Are you okay?”

  He started crying on the other end and my heart started pounding. I didn’t know what to say. He was the first child I’d ever given my card to that actually called me.

  “Caleb, I’m going to hang up the phone and call the police.”

  “No,” he cried. “Don’t leave me.”

  His sobs broke my heart. I was torn. I needed to get off the phone and call the police, but I couldn’t leave him when he was so scared. I saw a cop up ahead with his lights on as he pulled someone over. I pressed my foot down on the gas pedal and started honking my horn as many times as possible, catching his attention.

  I saw him run back to his car and drove even faster. “Caleb, I’m on my way to you now. Just hang in there.”

  Silence filled the line.

  “Caleb?”

  Panic ripped through me. What if I was too late? I picked up my phone again, but saw the line was dead. When did that happen? Fumbling with my phone, I dialed 9-1-1.

  “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”

  “My name is Christy and I’m a DCFS worker. I just received a call from a child. I believe something is happening at his house right now. I’m almost there and I have a cop following me.”

  “Ma’am, what is the address?”

  I tried to remember, but for the life of me, all I could think about was Caleb curled up in a ball, terrified for his life.

  “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

  “Ma’am, you need to calm down and tell me where you are.”

  “I’m…I’m on West 159th! I’m pulling up to the house now.”

  “You need to wait for the police.”

  I flung off my seatbelt, abandoning my phone as I ran toward the house. The cop was just pulling up behind me as I ran up the steps and shoved the door open. But I wasn’t prepared for what I saw inside.

  My hand flew to my mouth as my stomach lurched. Laying on the floor was Mrs. Woods. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling sightlessly as her arms laid flung out on either side of her body. There was a pool of blood growing around her as the slit across her throat gaped open.

  “Police!” I heard the officer shout, but I was already running through the house in search of Caleb. “Police! Ma’am, you need to stop!”

  I should have listened, but all I could think about was that boy and getting to him. I slipped on something in the hall and crashed to
the floor. I slowly looked up to see Caleb laying in a pool of blood just like his mom. Scrambling backward, I shoved myself up against the wall as the officer approached.

  “I-1376 to dispatch. I need backup and EMT to my location. Two victims, possible homicide.”

  “Backup is already en route to your location.”

  I covered my ears, trying to drown out the rest of what was said. I could hear boots pounding down the hall as more police officers filled the house. The officer that followed me knelt down in front of me.

  “Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?” I nodded, but my eyes kept flicking over to Caleb’s body on the floor. I felt the warm hand of the police officer wrap around my arm as he pulled me from my seat against the wall. I followed him blindly, trying not to look at the mother’s dead body as he led me out of the house.

  The ambulance was already on site and they were heading for the door. I closed my eyes, just trying to breathe as flashes of Caleb’s tiny body floated through my mind.

  “Ma’am, what’s your name?”

  “Christy Price,” I croaked out. “I’m with DCFS.”

  “Okay, Ms. Price. Why did you come here tonight?”

  “I gave Caleb my card,” I said, swiping at my nose as tears began to fall. “I was just here earlier today to investigate a possible abuse case. I gave him my card and told him to call me if…if he ever needed me.”

  The officer nodded, a stern expression on his face. “Why didn’t you call it in?”

  I shook my head as more tears slid down my cheeks. “I wanted to, but he begged me not to get off the phone with him. That’s why I sped past you.” I squeezed my eyes closed, remembering that moment and wondering how it might have all ended differently. “I didn’t know what to do and then I heard a scream. He was crying so hard. And now they’re dead because of me.”

  “They’re not dead because of you,” he reassured me. “Someone did this to them. They—”

  “What’s going on?” a man shouted as he raced up the driveway, bypassing the police tape that was already in place.

  “Sir—” The officer turned around to stop the man, but he was out of control, fighting to get inside the house.

 

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