Finding Purpose (Colorado Veterans Book 1) Page 18

  “It’s never too cold to grill. I was bored with the oven so I decided to try something different. How was work today?”

  “Long. I did see Carlo and his mom today. They’re both going to counseling now and we’re hoping she’s done dealing with assholes. Her brother will be in jail for another couple weeks but they have a restraining order on him to keep him away once he’s out.”

  Carlo has been a concern of Quinn’s since the day she met him, but after he got beat up in the foster home the last time she’s taken a special interest in him.

  “Good. I’m glad his family is on the mend. By the way, Saturday morning, we’re getting our first boarder.” Surprise flashes across her face right before she jumps up and down squealing.

  Three weeks after we took on the first horse, we got another one, on a recommendation from Connor. I’ve been out on the trail with the new horse for an hour when my cell phone rings.

  “Hey, Daisy.”

  “Hey, babe. Bad news, I’m going to be late.”

  “You alright?”

  “Yes, no. Not really. We just left Carlo’s mom’s house. She’s at the hospital and is being taken into surgery. Her brother broke the restraining order and beat her pretty bad. I’m not sure if she’s going to make it this time.” The sadness in her voice is so heavy I can almost feel it through the phone.

  “How’s he doing?” I ask, knowing the answer is not going to be great, but still needing to hear it. I haven’t met the kid, but I know Quinn adores him and has made a point to stay active in his life since she met him. Dex even has a soft spot for the kid and as far as I can tell, the man doesn’t have a soft spot for humans in general. Animals, yes. Humans, no.

  “It’s bad. He tried to jump in and help her, but got thrown against the wall and knocked out cold. When he came to, the uncle was gone and his mom was beaten so bad she was unrecognizable and unconscious. He called Dex directly, not even 911. Dex is with him right now. We’re trying to get him placed with the older couple who took him last time. The social worker and I are about to go head to head if she doesn’t get her head out of her ass and realize we aren’t going away until she does the absolute best she can with this situation.”

  “I’m sorry. Just call and let me know what time you’re headed this way and I’ll have dinner ready.”

  “It may be a while, but I’ll call. I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Without a goodbye, she hangs up. I take Comet, the new horse, into the barn and brush him down. The whole time I work I can think of nothing but Carlo and his mother and what their life must be like.

  By the time Quinn gets home it’s 10 o’clock and I can tell by the look on her face her nerves are frayed. She’s a pretty calm woman most of the time so tonight must have been bad.

  “You okay?” I ask as I wrap my arms around her.

  “No,” she grumbles into my neck as she holds me tight around the waist.

  “Come on and eat and tell me everything.”

  I lead her to the table and pull out her chair. I serve her dinner and sit patiently, waiting for her to tell me.

  “The older couple couldn’t take Carlo this time. The husband just had surgery and they’re off the list for a while. He almost ended up at the home where he got the beat down, but Dex flipped out and had him placed in a different group home. This time we accompanied him there and Dex made it known they’d deal with him if Carlo wasn’t taken care of properly. It was stressful. I know I’m going to have a hard time sleeping just thinking about him. The poor kid has been through so much and now they aren’t sure if his mom’s going to survive. She just got her life turned around and was doing better. I thought they actually had a future on the right side of the law.”

  We spend the next hour talking about her work and the horses until she finally falls asleep on the couch as I rub her feet. I carry her to our room, help her undress, lay her under the covers and slip in behind her. For hours I hold her, thinking of ways to make things easier for her.

  At breakfast the next morning, I say, “I thought about it for a long time after you went to sleep and I think we should become foster parents.” I hold my breath waiting for her response. Knowing she never wants kids had me nervous to bring this up, but it feels like the right thing.

  Her fork lowers from her mouth slowly. She wipes her lips with her napkin and asks, “What are you talking about?”

  “Listen, just…listen. Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?”

  She nods so I continue.

  “We have two extra rooms in the house. I’m here almost 24/7. We have plenty of area for kids to play. They could help with the horses if they want and they’d be safe here. I’m not sure what hoops we’d have to jump through, but I think it’d be worth it. Then when you have a kid like Carlo who needs somewhere to stay, he can come here. We aren’t having any of our own kids, and believe me I’m okay with that, but we can make a difference, together. I know you don’t want kids at all, but in this scenario it’s not a permanent thing, kids would come and kids would go. We could start out just having one and see how it works out. If we don’t like it, we can stop. If you don’t like the idea, I won’t bring it up again, I just thought it might be cool. I know it won’t always be easy, but it’ll be worth it. Just think about it.”

  She looks at me for a long moment and finally says, “Let me think about it. I don’t know if they’ll consider us.”

  “No one’s perfect. However, you’re a police officer and I’m a highly decorated combat veteran who’s still in touch with a counselor. We have a large house, plenty of property and I don’t have a job that takes me from home. We don’t need the income, we’d be doing it for the right reasons and I think we have a lot to offer a kid like Carlo.”

  “I’ll think about it, but it’ll change our whole way of life. No more couch sex, or stairs sex, or porch sex, or kitchen table sex…”

  “Yeah, I get that. It’s not like the sex will stop though, just the random locations. This isn’t something we have to do, just think about it.” I didn’t want to say it out loud but the idea of helping these kids and giving them a stable environment makes me happy. She nods and finishes her breakfast, but she’s quiet the rest of the morning and goes to work without anything more to say about the subject.

  Quinn

  When Judson suggested a few days ago that we take on foster kids, it jumbled my mind. I’ve never thought about fostering before, but for a kid like Carlo, I think it would be worth the time and effort. His life would be so different if he were able to live in a place like ours with Judd and me as guardians. I don’t think I’ll have any issues getting approved but I’m not sure about Judson with his history of PTSD and drug and alcohol abuse. His being in treatment may work in his favor, especially if Dave will write him a recommendation.

  Because I agreed to at least apply, Judson is going to see what he can do to start the process today. I wouldn’t be jumping on this crazy train if it weren’t for Carlo. Something about his situation and hope for the future brings out protective maternal instincts I thought didn’t exist for me.

  Two days later, the ringing of the phone pulls my concentration away from the paperwork I’ve been laboring over for the last hour.

  “Officer Hannigan,” a shrill female voice addresses me. “I’m Wilma Johnson, foster mother of Carlo Brown. We’ve got a problem and your partner said if I can’t reach him to call you, no matter what.”

  “Yes, ma’am, that’s correct. What’s going on?” My heart rate picks up.

  “Carlo is gone. He took off a couple of hours ago and I have no idea where he went. One of the other children that lives with us came to me a few minutes ago and said the drug dealer was coming for him and he was scared so he ran. Apparently he heard it at school. I don’t know how but that’s what this other child told me. Carlo made the boy promise not to tell anyone. I don’t even know what drug dealer he’s talking about. There’s nothing in his file about drug issues. Do you know what he�
�s talking about or where he might be?”

  Shit. Dex is going to freak out. What the hell did we miss?

  “Ms. Johnson, I’m not sure what’s going on either but I’ll locate my partner and we’ll start looking. Please notify Ms. Winsted, the social worker. If you hear anything or he comes back, please call me.”

  “Okay, I will. I’m sorry, officer, I had no idea he might be a runner.”

  “I didn’t know either.” I hang up the phone and stride into the chief’s office to let him know what’s going on. He tells me to inform Dex and put out an alert. We pull the last four cases that involve his mother and review them, hoping to find something we missed. I text Dex to let him know he’s needed as soon as he can get here. He took the afternoon off for personal reasons and I didn’t ask why, but figure he’ll want to help with this. Next, I text Judson and let him know I’ll likely be late.

  Three hours later, a search party has been combing the area near the foster home and his mother’s apartment looking for Carlo, and the only thing I’ve discovered is Lateesha Brown is more tied to the local drug trade than we first suspected. Why Carlo didn’t tell us, I have no idea. I leave the office and drive down to Lateesha’s apartment. She’s still in the ICU and it’s unknown if she’ll recover.

  When I reach their apartment building, the old woman four doors down is peering out the window as I pass. I give her a head nod and continue down the walkway. Thank goodness the locks on the doors here are crappy because it only takes me seconds to get inside. I cross the room and turn on the cheap ceramic lamp sitting on the rickety old end table by the hallway. Looking around the apartment, the only thing I see is broken furniture, a busted picture frame and small things scattered, presumably from the fight that put Lateesha in the ICU. I walk through both bedrooms and find more evidence of a struggle and piles of dirty clothes, but that’s it. I’m not sure what I’m looking for, but I know I haven’t found it. I turn off the lamp and lock the door behind me. This time, instead of walking past the old woman’s apartment I stop to question her. I’ve noticed on previous visits she’s always lurking behind the curtain like the neighborhood watchdog.

  I knock on the door and it opens a crack. The old woman’s eyes appear just below the chain that’s pulled tight from the door to the wall inside.

  “Ma’am, I’m looking for Carlo Brown. He ran away from his foster home and we’re worried about him. Have you seen him here today?”

  The old woman studies me for several seconds before she finally replies in an old, gravelly smoker’s voice, “No, but he wouldn’t come back here. He’s too smart. It’s possible he’s in the park. I’ve heard some of the kids hide in the big sewage drainpipe towards the back of the property when the weather is warmer like this. If you pick him up though, you’d better do right by him. He’s a good boy, don’t deserve none of what life gave him so far. Lateesha loves him, but has no business raising a child the way she lives and that daddy of his is a drug-dealing loser with no more than two pennies to rub together. If I find out you didn’t do right by him, I’ll go to the news. Seems all the news channels are real interested in stories of police neglect or brutality these days.”

  “Ma’am, I only want to help him. I’ll look where you told me. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I’m not certain you’ll find him there, but I’m hopin’ you will ’cause if not, it’s likely D-Rock done found him already.”

  Shit. How does this old lady know about the drug dealer?

  “How did you hear about D-Rock?”

  “Everybody ‘round here knows who the dope man is and when he’s lookin’ for someone, everybody gotta know. He’s lookin’ for Carlo so you best believe he tore through here already. That boy obviously knows somethin’, but don’t ask me what. I try to stay away from that stuff. Just pray Jesus will protect me from those bad people.”

  Shit, shit, shit. “Okay, thanks for your help.”

  She shuts the door and I can hear all three locks turn in place as I jog to the stairs. I need to get to the park before dark.

  As I’m driving, Dex calls and I fill him in. “Sorry to ruin your afternoon off. I’m headed to the park to see if he’s hiding in a drainage pipe. The old lady a few doors down told me I might find him there.”

  “Which park?” he asks, his voice tight. I rattle off the address and hang up.

  Five minutes later, I’m surveying the park when Dex pulls in next to me. His long legs swing out of his vintage Dodge Charger before his body does. He’s in jeans and a sweatshirt with a ball cap pulled low on his head.

  “You see him?” he asks by way of greeting. I shake my head and return, “No, not yet. I was waiting for you before I trekked to the sewer pipe.”

  “Let’s go then,” he barks and takes off in a jog that borders on a run.

  The cool air rushes across my face as we jog to the back of the property where this pipe is supposedly located. As we get close I can hear voices echoing inside. Dex steps in front of me and crouches down, pulling out a flashlight I didn’t realize he had from the back of his jeans. As soon as the light hits the murky inside of the pipe, kids of all ages scatter like mice, running past us before we can talk to them. The second to last one out has a hoody pulled over his head but is the right height and build to be Carlo. I snatch him back to us by the neck of the hoody and he cries out. When he’s close enough I yank the hood down to reveal our scrawny little friend, Carlo.

  We got real freaking lucky he was in there. I was afraid we’d be looking all night for him. “What the hell were you thinking running away, boy?” Dex snarls at him.

  Carlo’s eyes narrow and he goes on the defensive. “I was thinkin' I don’t want to die! D-Rock’s after me. He’s gonna get me. One of the kids at school told me he came looking for me. He’s gonna whack me.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask.

  “D-Rock, he knows I saw him knock off that lady in the alley and he’s looking for me to make sure I don’t talk.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about this? We were with you just the other day.”

  “Growin’ up ‘round here I know to keep my mouth shut. I was hopin’ he ain’t see me or know who I was.”

  I look into his eyes, eyes that have seen more than any 10-year-old should ever see, and find absolute terror lurking in the chocolate depths. Placed in harm’s way more often than not, he never feels safe, not having a clue what each day is going to hold. What Judson was saying to me smacks me upside the head like a frying pan. We have a lot to offer this kid and we have no reason not to do it. It would be selfish to ignore this opportunity and throw him back to the wolves. He could find safety out on our property, guarded by two people professionally trained to protect.

  “Carlo, come out here with us. I need to talk to Dex a minute, okay? We’re going to protect you. Just hang tight.” He watches me, his expression thoughtful and still a little scared, until he finally nods. I usher him in front of me, away from the drain opening and away from the area. When we’re far enough away I motion with my head to the left and Dex follows me, Carlo stays where I left him.

  “I’m calling the social worker to see if Judson and I can get emergency guardianship.”

  Dex shakes his head. “That’s a huge responsibility. You sure you want to take that on? This kid’s not a stray dog. You can’t take him in and then decide in a few days he’s too much of a handful. That will make it worse for him. Besides, I’m not sure Judson will like it.”

  “Judson was already working on the paperwork and we were considering fostering. Now, with the danger Carlo’s in, there’s no better place for him to be than with a former Navy SEAL and a cop. Besides, then I don’t have to worry what whacked-ass foster home he’s going to end up in. If Lateesha lives through this, I’m not sure she’ll be fit to take care of him anymore.”

  “I see your point. What can I do to help?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s go find Ms. Winsted and figure this out.”

  Ch
apter Fourteen

  Quinn

  Two days, a thousand phone calls, a court appearance, a hundred conversations, and a ton of paperwork later and I’m driving up the lane to my house with Carlo in the car while Dex follows us. Carlo’s quiet as he looks out the window.

  Hoping not to startle him I ask, “You ever been this far out in the country?”

  He shakes his head but doesn’t reply.

  “You okay, buddy?”

  He glances at me and then back out the window. His eyebrows lower and pull together as he asks, “What if your man don’t like me?”

  “Why wouldn’t he like you?”

  “A lot of people don’t like me. Maybe he won’t like the way I look or somethin’.” He shrugs.

  “Judson’s a good guy. You’ll see. He was the one who suggested this in the first place. I think it’ll be fine, but if it’s not we’ll talk about it and work it out. Our house isn’t like any of the others you’ve been to, it’s quiet. Just relax and we’ll take it one day at a time.”

  He’s silent again as we pull up in the driveway behind Judson’s truck. I open the door and climb out. Carlo takes a moment before he opens his door and looks around. Dex strolls up to the passenger side and ruffles Carlo’s hair. “Hey, kid. You ready?”

  Carlo gives him a nervous nod and pushes the door closed. Dex leans down and whispers something to him and they smile at each other before they follow me to the back door, which is the one we use to enter and exit from.

  “We’re here!” I call out. The smell of spaghetti sauce and garlic fills the room and my stomach grumbles. I missed lunch trying to get out of work on time today for this. Judson strolls out of the kitchen and plants a chaste kiss on my lips before turning a wide smile to Dex and Carlo. He reaches his hand out to shake Dex’s hand and then to Carlo to do the same. Carlo studies it for a second, unsure of what to do, I think.