First offense, p.7
First Offense, page 7
Slowly, a smile began to form on Doug’s face. “Those were nice times.” He took a deep breath. “I’m surprised you’re not mentioning the strongest argument for another child.”
“What’s that?”
“When we’re gone, Jonah will have a brother or sister in his life. He won’t be all alone.”
“So, you’re okay with this?”
Now Doug’s smile broadened. “I suppose I am. But you’ve got all the four a.m. feedings.”
CHAPTER
11
Jessica hadn’t slept much. She was too worried about Frankie. Bobby had promised to call if he’d heard from his brother, but the phone had remained silent. As she paced her kitchen floor, she realized she couldn’t simply stand by and do nothing any longer. She needed to act. She picked up the phone and dialed the number she’d been given for the Department of Juvenile Justice. After several attempts to reach the appropriate person, she was finally put through to Oscar Martinez, an analyst at the agency.
“I’m frantic, Mr. Martinez. My son was at Eldridge Academy, and he suddenly went missing. No one there would tell me what happened to him. Finally, six days later, I learned he had been severely beaten and was at Crescent Hills Regional Hospital. When I got there, I was told that he’d run away during the night.”
“Hold on, Mrs. Bishop. Let me see if I have anything on that.”
Jessica waited what seemed like an interminable time until he finally came back on the line. “We received a report this morning. According to Warden Cummings, your son has been acting out since he arrived, and he was the instigator of the fight that landed him in the hospital. In fact, the warden believes your son has some serious mental-health issues.”
“We can’t be talking about the same person.”
“Francis Bishop, born December 15, 2003?”
“That’s Frankie, but he’s the gentlest boy you’d ever know. He’d never start a fight. And whoever thinks he has mental-health issues must be crazy themselves.” Jessica heard the note of desperation in her voice.
“Children often hide their real tendencies from their parents.”
Now Jessica’s desperation turned to anger. “Then he hid it from every teacher he ever had, from every athletic coach, from every friend, and even from every enemy. No, Mr. Martinez, I know my son, and that report doesn’t describe him.”
Jessica heard a loud sigh on the other end of the phone. “I’m not sure what you want from me. Your son ran away. If he’s picked up, he’ll be brought back to Eldridge, and we can arrange for a psychiatric examination at that point.”
“No!” Jessica shouted. “Not Eldridge. Anyplace else. Something’s going on there. I don’t know what, but they lied to me about where Frankie was, and they’ve lied to you in that report. If Frankie ran away, he had a good reason to. Please, please, don’t send him back there.”
“Well, at this point, we’re not sending him anywhere. We don’t know where he is, and we don’t exactly send out the posse for something like this. I have to warn you, though. If he returns home and you don’t notify us, you might face criminal charges yourself.”
“And if you don’t investigate what’s going on at Eldridge, you might just face civil charges, with a lawsuit for millions in damages.”
Jessica slammed down the phone and continued her pacing.
Why is there always a wait in doctors’ offices? Dani wondered. She’d left work early for her appointment with her OB/GYN, and Doug had joined her. They’d been sitting in the waiting room for forty minutes.
She’d done more research into Florida’s juvenile prisons. Her dismay had increased when she learned the problem was widespread. A myriad of complaints had been filed against for-profit privately run juvenile prisons across the country. “I can’t get past why he was sentenced to prison,” Dani said.
“Then that should be your starting point. Figure out why.”
Dani chuckled. “It’s so easy for you to say that. You teach law school students from cases that were already decided, where the facts are nicely laid out. It’s not so easy in the real world. Especially with juvenile court, where the records are sealed.” Dani was quiet for a moment, then said, “Thank goodness I have Tommy on my side. Somehow, he always manages to work a miracle. I’m going to have him start with the judge who did the sentencing. Maybe he can find someone willing to talk.”
Just then, Dani’s name was called, and she and Doug entered Dr. Kaplan’s office.
“So, you think you’re pregnant?” the doctor said when they’d taken seats opposite her desk.
Dani nodded. “The home test was positive.”
“Well, let’s take a look.”
A nurse led Dani first to a bathroom for a urine sample, and then, with Doug, into an examining room. She pointed to the paper gown and told her to put it on with the opening in the front. When Dr. Kaplan came into the room, she announced that Dani’s urine test was positive for pregnancy. She performed a pelvic examination, then a sonogram. “Looks like you’re ten weeks along.”
Dani sat up from the examining table and looked over at Doug, who had a smile on his face. He’s come around, she thought, with a sense of relief. It’s not just for me. He’s happy.
“I’m forty-five,” Dani said to the doctor. “Should I be worried about the baby’s health?”
“Well, no question your age is a factor. But we’ll do a number of prenatal tests. And nowadays, women your age are having babies more and more often. They want to be established in a career first, then all of a sudden realize their biological clock has an end date.”
Dani didn’t know what she would do if the testing showed a problem with the baby. She hadn’t needed prenatal testing for her pregnancy with Jonah, and so they were unprepared for his diagnosis of Williams syndrome. His special needs made him different, sometimes in ways that made her heart ache, sometimes in ways that made her heart soar with pride. But always her intense love for him triggered a need to protect him.
How could so many children languish in prisons where the profit motive outweighed compassion? she thought. Who was protecting them? Where was the community outrage? Where were the government overseers? She wasn’t naive. She was well aware of the abuses that took place in adult prisons. But these were children, she wanted to scream. No one should accept a twelve-year-old boy—who’d brought to school only two joints in an effort to make friends—ending up in a hospital with severe damage to his spleen. Frankie’s mother wouldn’t accept it. And neither would Dani.
CHAPTER
12
Frankie awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon sizzling. He slipped on his new jeans, pulled a new T-shirt over his head, and headed into the kitchen.
“Morning,” Bill, still in his pajamas, said as he stood over the stove. “In the mood for some bacon and eggs?”
Boy, was he ever. Cold cereal or lukewarm oatmeal was all he ever got at Eldridge.
“Have some for me, too?” Ivy asked as she entered the kitchen behind Frankie. She was all dressed up in a skirt and blouse, with her red, wavy hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“Sure, sweetie, pull up a chair.”
“Um, can I help?” Frankie asked.
“You can get the orange juice from the fridge.”
Frankie did as he was asked, then sat down at one of the place settings. When Bill finished cooking, he scooped out scrambled eggs onto each of the three plates, then placed four strips of bacon next to the eggs. He sat down to join them.
When they finished eating, Ivy turned to Frankie. “Bill and I have done some investigating. There’s a train that goes from Savannah up to Raleigh. From there, it’s only about a hundred and twenty miles to the base. There probably are taxis at the train station. Take one to the airport, and from there, you can get a shuttle that goes to Camp Lejeune. The money we gave you will cover the fares. We think that’s what you should do.”
“Will they let me on the train alone?”
“Just pretend you belong there. Don’t look like you’re doing something wrong. If anyone asks, say you’re on your way to visit your father.”
“Won’t they think I should be in school?”
“Say your father is shipping out, and you got special permission to take a few days off to visit him.”
“Okay.”
“Here’s the thing, though. There’s only one train a day, and it leaves at one thirty in the morning. So we think you should hang out here today, and we’ll drive you there when it’s time.”
Frankie was fine with that. They had a big-screen TV on the wall, and he could also play video games. When they were ready to leave for work, they showed him the food in the refrigerator and pantry and offered suggestions for his lunch. He was happy making a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich for himself. Before she left for work, Ivy implored him once more to call his mother. “I’ll think about it,” he said.
Once he was alone, he settled himself on the couch, looked over the Xbox games, then pulled out FIFA—a soccer game—and popped it in the console. Two hours later, he finished playing games, then turned on the TV. It was a treat to watch what he wanted to watch, rather than what was playing on the communal TV. He flipped through the cable channels, found a Fast and Furious movie that was about to start, then settled back and watched it.
After a while, he thought about Ivy’s plea to phone his mother. He knew she would have come to see him for her regular Saturday visit, and wondered what the guards at Eldridge had told her. Maybe she was worried. He reached out for the phone, began dialing, then hesitated. What if they’d bugged it? What if they could find him from his call? No, he would stick to his plan. He’d get to Bobby by tomorrow, and then he could figure out the rest.
Dani arrived at work armed with her cup of decaf coffee and freshly baked doughnut from the corner shop. As she got settled in her office, Tommy stopped by. “I found out some things about the owner of ML Juvenile Services.”
“Spill.”
“His name is Roger Wilcox, and apparently he’s wreaked havoc wherever he’s gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he leads the pack in complaints of abuse, both physical and sexual. He pays rock-bottom wages, so it’s no surprise that he has the highest turnover of staff of any prison in Florida. And since no one is there very long, no one has much experience.”
“Why is he still in business?”
“Not only is he still in business, but his company is thriving. He keeps getting new and renewed contracts.”
Dani shook her head in disgust. “How does he get away with it?”
“By not reporting incidents and scaring the kids so they won’t report abuses themselves.”
Dani wondered if this is what landed Frankie in the hospital. He’d told his mother about a boy dying through the neglect of the guards. Was the warden trying to cover up the incident? Had the guard done it at the warden’s behest? If so, then once Frankie was found—and she fervently hoped that would be soon—she might have success in convincing a court to overlook his running away and, at the very least, move him to a different prison.
“This is helpful, Tommy. Keep digging.”
Dani turned to the appeal she was working on for a HIPP client. There was nothing more she could do for Frankie Bishop until he was found.
At 12:45 a.m., Bill woke Frankie. “Time to get ready to leave.”
Frankie opened his eyes, still groggy. His backpack was ready, filled with snacks in addition to his clothes. He’d gone to sleep already dressed for travel and now slid out of bed and laced up his shoes.
Bill looked him over. “You going to be okay?”
Frankie pulled his shoulders back and stuck out his chin. “Sure.” Even as he said it, he knew he was bluffing. He’d never traveled on his own before. Yes, he’d traveled lots with his parents. All over the United States and in Germany, too. But never alone.
“Okay, let’s get going.”
Frankie had already said good-bye to Ivy when he went to sleep earlier that night. Now just he and Bill got into his car and drove the twenty minutes to the train station. Bill bought him a ticket from the automated machine. The platform was empty, and Bill waited with Frankie for the train to arrive.
“Remember, give the conductor your ticket, and ask him to wake you when the train gets to Raleigh. Then, go to sleep. Don’t talk to anyone.”
As the train chugged into the station, Frankie turned to Bill and hugged him. “Thank you. And Ivy. For everything.”
“Just remember, when you get to the base, call us. We need to know that you got there safely.”
Frankie nodded, then boarded the train. He found a seat away from the other passengers, placed his backpack under the seat in front of him, and settled in. Within minutes of the train pulling out of the station, a uniformed man came around and asked for his ticket. Frankie handed it to him, carefully averting his gaze, then scrunched down on his seat and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t arrive in Raleigh until almost nine a.m. He’d certainly be awake then. No need to ask to be awakened.
Within minutes, Frankie fell soundly asleep. The bright sunlight streaming through the window woke him, and he wondered what time it was. It had to be morning. He looked around, hoping to see a clock, and instead saw a middle-aged man across the aisle. He was dressed in a suit and tie and was staring at Frankie. He quickly turned away from him and leaned his head against the window. His body stiffened when he felt someone sit down next to him, but he didn’t turn around to look. A moment later, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned to face the middle-aged man.
“You’re awfully young to be traveling by yourself.”
“I’m old enough.”
“Shouldn’t you be in school?”
Frankie had his answer prepared. “My father is being shipped out from Camp Lejeune soon. I got permission to go see him.”
“Why isn’t your mother with you?”
“My mother died. I live with my grandmother, and she’s too weak to travel.”
“Still, I have a son myself, around your age. I’d worry about him being all alone on a train.”
“I’m okay.”
“My boy plays soccer. How about you?”
“Yeah.”
“What position?”
“Forward.”
“That’s what my son plays. He’s high scorer for his team.” The man took out his wallet and pulled out a picture of a boy in a soccer uniform, holding a soccer ball in his hands.
Frankie fell into an easy conversation with the man, about school sports and professional sports and life in the military and even what movies he liked.
After a while, the man said, “This train doesn’t stop near Jacksonville. Do you know that?”
“I’m getting off in Raleigh and taking a shuttle from the airport to the base.”
“I’m headed to Camp Lejeune myself. On business. I have a car waiting at the station. If you’d like, I can drive you there. It’ll save you time and a lot of money. I’d like to think that if my son was traveling alone, someone would help him out.”
“What kind of business?”
“What?”
“You said you’re going to Camp Lejeune on business. What kind?”
“Oh. My company has the contract for cleaning the uniforms. Every now and then, I stop in to make sure things are going smoothly.”
Frankie had lived on or near army bases most of his life. He knew many of the services were provided by outside vendors. Still, his mother had drilled it into him over and over—don’t talk to strangers. Don’t get in cars with strangers.
“Don’t come along if you’re not comfortable with it. I have the utmost respect for our soldiers and wouldn’t want your father angry at you for hitching a ride with a stranger.”
Frankie had trusted Bill and Ivy, and it had worked out well. This man seemed nice, too. He smiled at him and said, “That would be great.”
When the doorbell rang, Jessica knew who it would be. She opened it to the policeman, standing outside with a sour look on his face.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Garcia. I understand you’re aware that your son Francis ran away.”
“I am. I’m also aware that he was badly beaten while incarcerated.”
“That may be, but my job now is to bring him back to Eldridge Academy. May I come in?”
“No.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Unless you have a warrant, you don’t have permission to enter my home.”
Now the sour look changed to one of annoyance. “You’re making a mistake here. It’ll only be harder for your son when I come back.”
Jessica couldn’t believe he was threatening her. Was the whole world crazy, with anger fueling more and more violence? “Good day, Officer.” She closed the door and began to shake. How long would it take him to get a warrant? An hour? A day? She wanted him to believe that Frankie was at home. That way, they wouldn’t look for him elsewhere. But she had no intention of being here when Officer Garcia came back. She’d already decided that she couldn’t wait at home any longer.
It drove Jessica crazy, not hearing from Bobby, not knowing if Frankie was okay. It was different from her worry over her husband. Every day, she brushed away images of him being shot by a sniper, or ambushed by a troop of Taliban. But she had no control over what happened to him, so she needed to rely on her belief that he was highly trained and exceptionally careful. After months of all-consuming worry about his safety, she’d decided she simply wouldn’t allow the notion that he was dead to linger in her thoughts.
A mother was supposed to be in control of her child, though. To always know where he was and what he was doing. How had she lost that control?
She knew the answer. In her distraction over Alex, she’d allowed herself to be lax, to rely on Frankie’s strength instead of her own. She’d assumed that because he was so smart, he wouldn’t do something so stupid. She’d forgotten that he was still a child. And because of that, he’d ended up in juvenile prison. It was her fault, not Frankie’s. And now he was missing.
