She fiddled with the camera in her lap. Holding it at eye level, she looked through the lens and played with the shutter speed and the aperture until she could see every detail of the brass handle on Simpson’s door. As she made a few adjustments, she moved the lens across the front of the house. Through the front window, she saw movement and decided to keep her lens focused there, hoping Eli Simpson would make an appearance.
He was not married, but somebody was definitely moving around inside the house.
Come on, Simpson…move closer to the window
.
When her phone rang, she looked down and saw that it was a number she didn’t recognize. She held her camera with her right hand and her cell with her left and pushed the Talk button.
“Hello,” the caller said, “is this Lizzy Gardner?”
“Yes, it is.” She was about to put the camera down, when Simpson’s front door opened.
“Hayley Hanson is ready to be picked up,” the caller said. “She’s been cleared to leave. If you can get here before three o’clock and fill out all the necessary paperwork, she’ll be released to you today. If not, we’ll have to wait until Wednesday afternoon.”
Lizzy had been praying this day would come, but she’d begun to lose hope that they would be able to get Hayley out before her first year was served. “Hayley can come home?” she asked, trying to concentrate, unable to believe what she was hearing, her voice shaky with emotion.
“She’ll be wearing an ankle monitor, but yes, she can be picked up.”
Lizzy gave up trying to talk and take pictures at the same time and set the camera aside.
“By the time Hayley’s situated,” the caller said, “the monitor will have been activated. The rules are strict. At timed intervals,
the monitor sends a radio frequency signal with location to a receiver. If the offender has moved outside a permitted range, the police will be notified. The monitor cannot be tampered with in any way. Removal attempts will cause authorities to be alerted and she’ll end up right back where she started.”
Lizzy looked at the clock. If she left now, she could make it in time. She couldn’t let Hayley spend another night in that place. “I’ll be there by three. Thank you.”
Simpson walked like an old man as he reached into his mailbox, but then he grabbed his mail and ran up the path and into his house.
Damn
.
“I’ll be back,” Lizzy told him, inwardly cursing as she pulled away from the curb and drove off.
Juvenile Detention Center
Sacramento
Monday, May 7, 2012
After filling out ridiculous amounts of paperwork, Lizzy returned to her car and drove to the other side of the California Division of Juvenile Justice building, where she parked at the curb, climbed out of the car, and waited, her eyes focused on the steel double doors.
It wasn’t long before the blocks of steel came open and Hayley stepped outside.
Lizzy closed her eyes, inhaled some cool afternoon air, and let the moment wash over her before she pushed herself from the car and headed toward her. For the first few months after Hayley’s incarceration, Lizzy and Jared had spent every waking moment
discussing possibilities of how they were going to go about getting Hayley released before her term was served. Lizzy had gathered documentation about the men who had hurt Hayley over the years, while Jared had worked on the legalities of Hayley’s release. They had met with the judge three times before they had finally been allowed a hearing. At the moment, though, none of that mattered. Their persistence had paid off. Hayley was free.
Lizzy crossed the street and waited outside the gate as she watched Hayley get closer and closer to freedom. In the nine months that Hayley had been incarcerated, her dark auburn hair had grown well past her shoulders. Lizzy had visited less than two weeks ago, but today Hayley looked paler and thinner. Her hair was unbrushed and stringy. She wore loose jeans, a dark T-shirt decorated with a symbol Lizzy didn’t recognize, and black tennis shoes with white lace. Her piercings had been removed upon her arrival at the detention center, and had yet to be replaced.
The guard and Hayley did not exchange words as he opened the chain-link door surrounded by barbwire fencing.
As the gate was locked behind them, Lizzy took Hayley into her arms. Although she had been planning for this moment for months, and she knew Hayley wasn’t the touchy-feely type, she couldn’t help herself. She wrapped her arms around Hayley and held her tight. Hayley felt stiff and rigid, but Lizzy didn’t care. She didn’t want to let go, but she finally released her hold, and they walked toward the car without speaking.
Lizzy held her keys toward her new car and pushed a button. A beep sounded and the trunk popped open.
“Movin’ on up, I see.”
“I also replaced the carpet with wood flooring in the office.”
“Nice.”
“Faux wood, not real wood,” Lizzy said, “since I don’t want my clients thinking that they’re overpaying me.”
Hayley shoved the few things she had in the trunk, clicked it shut, and then climbed into the passenger seat. Lizzy was already strapped in. As soon as Hayley had her seatbelt on, Lizzy merged onto the street and headed for home.
“How bad was it?” Lizzy asked after a few quiet moments passed between them.
“It could have been worse. I met some interesting characters.”
Lizzy wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“Have you seen my mom?”
Lizzy nodded. She figured Hayley would have preferred to move in with her mom so that she could protect her, but the judicial order stated that Lizzy was her guardian, and therefore Hayley had no choice but to live with her and Jared—at least for now. “I’ve been watching your mom, just as I promised I would,” Lizzy said. “A few days ago, I followed her downtown. She went to the grocery store and then dropped an envelope in a drop box outside the post office. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and her hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She looked good.”
“Any sign of Brian?”
“No. According to county records, he sold his house a few months ago. I have yet to find out where he moved to.” Lizzy knew Hayley had reason to worry about Brian’s whereabouts. Because of him, Hayley had spent the past nine months in the juvenile detention center. After Hayley had cut off his penis and burned “child rapist” across his chest, Brian had promised her he would kill her mother, which was why Hayley had asked Lizzy to keep an eye on her. Brian’s penis was reattached, and the day after he left the hospital, he was brought in for questioning. Unfortunately,
Hayley’s mom was strung out and unwilling to speak out against the man she believed loved her and cared about her. Despite the years of abuse she and her daughter had been subjected to, Brian was released within twenty-four hours, and there was nothing Lizzy could do about it.
Hayley picked up her right leg and settled it on her left knee so she could examine the monitor covering her ankle.
“Is it too tight?”
“It’s OK. I just need to get used to it.”
Lizzy noticed that Hayley couldn’t fit a finger beneath the plastic. “I think we should turn around and make them loosen it.”
“No. It’s fine.” She let her foot drop to the floor and kept her gaze straight ahead.
Hayley was still the same stubborn girl she’d always been, so Lizzy let it go. “To keep you from going stir crazy, I was hoping you would be willing to work for me from home.”
“You know how I love paperwork.”
Lizzy smiled at her sarcasm, glad to know Hayley still sounded like Hayley.
“What’s my radius on this thing?” Hayley asked, gesturing toward her foot.
“You can go anywhere within a mile of the house. Any farther than that, and the receiver transmits your new location to authorities and you could end up right back in jail.”
Hayley exhaled. “I bet Jared’s excited about having a new roommate.”
“He’s fine with it,” Lizzy said, which was the truth. Jared was easygoing and flexible. “He’s been traveling a lot. He’s gone right now, but he’ll be home for a few days before he has to take off again.”
“What’s he working on?”
“He’s meeting with the NCAVC coordinator to determine whether he can get some assistance from the Behavioral Analysis Unit on a case he’s working on here in Sacramento.”
“A lot of psychos in the world to keep him busy, I guess.”
“Sad, but true,” Lizzy said before changing the subject. “I’m going to take you home and then run to the grocery store. What can I get for you?”
“I’m fine. I’ll eat whatever you have at the house.”
“Come on,” Lizzy pressed, “there must be something you crave after all these months.”
“I’ll never eat bologna or beans again. Other than that, I’ve got nothing.”
“I was thinking you might want to call Tommy in a few days, since he keeps asking about you.”
“Tommy who?”
“The boy you met at the high school where we talked—”
“Are you talking about the Karate Kid?”
Lizzy chuckled. “Sure, yeah, I guess I am.”
“Lizzy.”
“Yes?”
“I know you mean well, but can you just not worry about me? I mean, if we’re going to live together for a while, I’d rather you not mother-hen me. No cooking me meals, and I’d prefer to choose my own friends. From what you’ve been telling me when you visit, you’re busier than ever. I don’t want to organize a youth club or write my feelings in a journal every day. No offense. I’d rather just keep busy organizing your files, doing basic searches, reading my books, stuff like that.”
Lizzy sighed.
“I’ll clean my own dishes and make my bed every day. Thanks to this ankle monitor, you won’t have to give me a curfew. If you
can’t find me, I’ll be in the backyard. Will that work? Do we have a deal?”
Lizzy nodded. “Yeah, sure, we have a deal.”
“Good. Now tell me about Jessica. Has she quit yet?”
“Jessica? Quit? No. Jessica recently moved into her new apartment. She’s still taking classes and going for a degree in criminology.”
“Still dating that nerd?”
“Casey?”
Hayley nodded.
“No, they broke up a while ago.”
“Probably for the best.”
“Why is that?”
Hayley shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t like his face.”
Maureen and Charles Baker
Placer County
August 2011
Maureen awoke with a migraine. She could feel the blood vessels literally getting smaller, restricting much-needed blood and oxygen to her brain, which in turn caused other blood vessels to expand and throb. Usually too much caffeine or eating the wrong foods caused her to get a migraine, but this time it was definitely caused by stress.
She pushed herself upward and glass cut into her palm. A few seconds passed before her mind cleared and she remembered bits and pieces of what had happened. She was inside the limousine, sprawled across the floor. There was glass everywhere.
Charles.
Where was Charles?
Crawling to the open door, she saw two shadowy figures. She squinted, concentrated, tried to wait until her eyesight was no longer blurry, but it was no use. There was a man lying in an open field…Charles. Someone else, most likely the driver, was huddled over him. There were no buildings in the area, only cows grazing in the distance. She slid both legs out the door, careful not to cut herself further, and then held on to the doorframe until her feet hit solid ground. There was a narrow dirt road nearby, but she could not see the main road from where she stood.
Her legs wobbled as she made her way over uneven dirt clods toward the two men. She fell to the ground. It took her a moment to get up. Her vision grew worse, hazier than before. The two people were blurry shadows. The sun was setting. It would be dark soon.
“Oh, Mrs. Baker,” the driver said, “thank God you’ve come to.”
At closer view, it looked as if the man was holding a razor in one hand and a clear plastic tube, narrow like the inside of a pen, in the other.
“What’s going on?” She stepped up her pace, frantic to be by Charles’s side. “What are you doing to him?”
Charles’s face was pale, his eyes wide with fear. His chest rose and fell more rapidly with each breath. His breathing sounded ragged and wet. His clothes were torn and there was blood everywhere.
“I’ve called 911,” the driver said. “They’re on their way.”
Thank God
. She grabbed hold of Charles’s hand and squeezed. “What happened?”
“There were two deer,” the driver explained. “I swerved and lost control. It was an accident.”
She looked at the razor in his hand. “What are you doing with that?”
“As I carried your husband from the car, he told me he used to be a SEAL and that he couldn’t breathe. He said I needed to perform a tracheotomy.”
“No,” she said. “Absolutely not. Charles,” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks, “did you say that? Is that what you need him to do?”
A weird gurgling noise came out of his mouth, but he couldn’t seem to form any words. His eyes twitched as if he were trying to look toward the driver, pleading with her to understand what was going on. “Where’s the ambulance?” she asked. “Why aren’t they here?”
More gurgling noises erupted. She put her ear closer to his mouth. “What are you trying to tell me, Charles?”
“If you don’t perform a tracheotomy,” the driver interrupted, “he’s never going to make it.”
She looked at the man with disgust. “Are you saying you want
me
to cut into his throat?”
“It’s the only way. Look at him. He’s turning blue. He doesn’t have much time.”
She shook her head. “You do it,” she said.
“I can’t,” he said. “I thought I could, I really did, but I could never be responsible if something went wrong.”
“I can’t do it.” She pushed curly gray hair out of her face and looked Charles over. His breathing had grown much worse, much more ragged than before. He was struggling for each breath he took.
“He’s going to die,” the man said calmly.
Nothing made sense. Maureen looked from one end of the field to the other. “If you swerved to miss the deer, then where’s the main road?”