CHAPTER THIRTY- SIG
There are times when things have to be done a certain way,
when schmoozing has to happen and egos have to be stroked.
But there are also times when etiquette
needs a kick in the ass.
Now
is one of those times.
Just as soon as I make one stop first.
I poke my head into the lounge where Travis has been keeping
company with Dorothy, the staff child psychologist at the county hospital.
Travis is slouched down in a seat on the
couch with his hood pulled up and tugged down low over his eyes.
So low, in fact, I can hardly see them
at all.
But I
can
see the
pinched
line of his mouth,
though, and the pale face that surrounds it.
I knock on the door’s frame before speaking.
At the sound, Travis’s head jerks up so
that I can get a better look at his eyes.
I can tell he’s pissed, but there’s relief in them, too. I mean, I may
be on his shit list right now, but at least I’m a friendly face. “Can I have a
minute?” I ask Dorothy.
She smiles, dimples appearing in both cheeks, making her
round face look like that of an overstuffed doll.
“Sure,” she says kindly, winking one
brown eye at me as she breezes by in a cloud of syrupy perfume.
“Take your time. I’ll be right down the
hall.”
I wait for her to leave and I close the door behind
her.
I stuff my hands in my front
pockets, a non-threatening gesture, and I walk slowly to the chair Dorothy
vacated, sitting across from Travis.
I let the quiet settle around us before I speak.
“How you holding up,
lil
man?”
He shrugs one shoulder.
“Need anything?”
For at least two minutes, Travis says nothing, just stares a
hole through me.
I’m pretty sure
that if hate had hands, he’d be strangling me with it right this minute. I let
him do it.
He probably needs to let
it out.
“Yeah, I need something.
My sister.
Bring her to me and let us go home.”
Of course he’d say
that.
I sigh. “You know I can’t do that.”
“You
can.
You just
won’t.
There’s a
difference.”
I can’t help
smiling.
I had this conversation
with his sister not so long ago.
“You’re right.
There is.
And in this case,
I can’t
and
I won’t.
I’m a cop, Travis.
I have to let this play out the right
way.”
He stands up and storms to
the other end of the room. He stands facing the wall, kicking the rubber
molding with the toe of his shoe.
“There’s
always
something
more important than us,” he mutters angrily.
“I didn’t say it was more important.
I’m letting this play out for two
reasons.
Number one, I know that
your sister did what she had to do and I know that I can make the DA see
that.
She was just a kid and both
your lives were in danger.
And
number two, getting this wrapped up through the proper channels is the only way
you two will ever be able to lead a normal, happy life.”
“She had a plan,” he pouts.
“Both of you may think that her plan of moving to another
country where our laws can’t find you is the answer, but it’s not. You’d never
be able to come back here. You’d always be looking over your shoulder for Lance
or a cop.
You
’d be on the run for the rest of your
lives.”
I soften my voice.
“That’s no way to live, Travis.
But listen, I swear on my life that I’m
doing this for both of you. I’m doing what’s best for
you
, not what’s best for
me
.”
I feel a stab of emotion cut through my
gut.
“Do you think it was easy for
me to see them haul your sister away in handcuffs?
For me to go
see her in an interrogation room?
Do you think it’s easy for me to picture her in a cold, empty cell, all
alone?”
The words, the images make
my chest so tight that I have to stand up in order that my diaphragm can work
and get me some air.
I run my hands
through my hair.
“God, I’d give
anything for things to be different. But they aren’t.
So I’m doing the best thing I know to do
for you and Tommi.”
“Tia,” he corrects glumly.
“Tia.”
I walk to
Travis, gently laying my hand on his shoulder to turn him toward me.
“Look, bud, I know you’re mad. I know
you’re scared. You’re probably even a little hurt.
And I get that.
I get
all
that. You
should be.
You wouldn’t be human if you
weren’t.
But I’m
gonna
ask you to do something
that’s
gonna
feel even worse. Something you don’t
want to do and probably think you
shouldn’t
do.
I’m asking you to trust
me.”
Travis is standing in front of
me with his head bowed, chewing on his lip like his sister does sometimes.
I peel off his hood and bend until I can
see into his eyes.
“I care about
you both.
If I didn’t, I wouldn’t
be here, fighting for you. I’d just let the chips fall where they may.
But I didn’t. I’m
not.
Because
I’m on your side.
I swear it.”
His emerald green eyes, also so much like his sister’s, bore into
mine.
I let him look, let him
think.
Finally, he nods. Just once.
Almost imperceptibly.
And probably because
he doesn’t have much choice.
At the moment, I’m all he’s got.
That thought hits me right in the heart.
What will happen to this kid if I can’t
make the DA see things my way?
He’ll have lost everything.
His parents, his siblings, his childhood.
His innocence.
The thought has the same effect as subjecting iron to
fire.
It steels me, hardens my
determination to a level that is absolutely impenetrable.
“Listen, Dorothy is
gonna
need to
talk to you here shortly with a detective present.
That
has
to happen
before they can let you see Tommi.
I have an errand to run. It’s important.
But when I’m done, I’ll come back, take
you to see Tommi and then I’ll take you home, okay?
We’ll get your mom taken care of and
then maybe do some gaming.
Sound
like a plan?
I think blowing shit
up on TV might do both of us some good tonight.”
I see one corner of his mouth curve a little.
I take that as a good sign and decide
that it’s better not to push my luck any more at the moment.
I go back out and get Dorothy.
“He’s all yours.
I’ll be back in an hour or so to take him to see his sister and then get
him back home.”
She nods.
“I
think we can manage to have him ready for you by then.”
As I’m walking out of the building, the first person I call
is my dad.
********
Less than an hour later, I’m walking up the curved front
porch steps to Bill Lemmon’s house. He’s the DA. He’s worked with my father for
years and I’ve met him several times.
I would never have called Dad and asked him for a favor if this weren’t so
important. But here I am, on a Sunday night, paying a visit to maybe the only
other person who needs to believe Tommi as much as I do.
He meets me at the door, opening it before I can even raise
my hand toward the bell.
“Nice to
see you again, Mr. Locke,” he says stiffly, offering his hand before stepping
aside to let me enter.
“Thanks for agreeing to talk to me. I know it’s late, but…”
He pins me with his shrewd blue eyes and nods, saying
nothing before he turns and leads me to his study.
It’s done in browns and reds, much like
his office downtown, if I remember correctly.
That strikes me as a little odd, but
whatever.
If that’s what gets him off…
He takes a seat behind the wide desk and I ease down into
one of the chairs in front of it.
Even
though we’re in this guy’s home, it’s all business.
Yeah, it
definitely
has the feel like we’re downtown.
“So, what can I do for you?”
“You got the file?”
“Yes. I’ve been looking at the reports.
Talked to your captain, too.”
“Then you know the basics.
I’m here to talk to you about her
options,” I begin, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees.
“She was thirteen years old when her older
brother attacked her younger brother and their mother.
He was jacked up on bath salts.
Knocked the younger kid around a
little.
Beat the shit out of the
mother. She never has recovered completely.
The girl, Tia, she swung the bat once to
get him to stop hitting the mother.
Killed him with one strike.
No
intent
to kill.
She was afraid for her life, and that of
her family.
It was just
her
and her brother after that.
She took care of him
and
the mother.
Both
of them…challenged.
The
youngest, he has Asperger’s.
Needs some
special
care.
Good kid, though. High functioning.
But I can see where she’d feel the need to look out for him.
He needs security, routine, which I
learned in my research is pretty typical.
Then, to make matters worse, Lance Tonin got a hold of her.
Shit went downhill after that. Kid
started
muling
for him, afraid to say
no,
afraid of what would happen to his sister.
The whole thing’s messed up as
hell.
But, what I’m getting at…in a
nutshell…is that at the time
of
commission
, these crimes are
all
juvenile offenses.”
I stop there, letting those words sink in.
They’re the lynchpin of my whole
case.
And what I hope will be
his
whole case.
“So what are you asking?”
“I know in certain cases, Georgia law allows for involuntary
manslaughter to be charged as a misdemeanor.
This girl, Tia, she has gotten her GED,
completed college courses, all so that she can provide for her and her brother
by
legal
means.
Legitimately.
She was just waiting for him to turn
eighteen so that the state couldn’t take him out of the home and stick him in
the foster system or institutionalize him.
Neither of them has been dinged for a damn thing in years. All juvenile
offenses are measured against the likelihood of rehabilitation.
They can be rehabilitated. Hell, they
have been
rehabilitated.
They could have a good life if all this
could be put behind them so they could have a fresh start. But you know as well
as I do that Tia won’t get more than a shit job if she gets charged with a
felony. Her life will be pretty much over.”
Lemmon leans back in his chair,
steepling
his fingers and looking at me over the tops.
“Misdemeanor, huh?”
“Yes, sir.
She
was thirteen at the time. The unintentional death of her brother after what
he’d done to their mother left her completely alone with a younger brother to
raise
.
Since the
commission of the crime, she’s made mostly good choices.”
“You’re considering Lance Tonin a good choice?”
“She didn’t
have
a
choice there, sir.
A guy like took
advantage of a child. Has been ever since. Had her scared. Blackmailing her to
keep her quiet, to keep her in line.
But being afraid isn’t a crime.
She’s
committed
no crimes for
him,
she’s
covered up
no crimes for him. She has simply played the obedient boy toy.
Because she felt like she had no other
choice.”
He nods, eyes narrowing on me.
“And the boy?
Travis, you said?”
I nod.
“Courier.
Never really knew what the hell he was
doing.
Just let his teacher, a
trusted, adult role model, use him.
Scare him into doing something that was supposedly for the good of his
sister.
If anything, though, I
think his record should be scrubbed just because of the value of his testimony.
If he turns on Chaps, the teacher, the teacher will turn on Tonin just to save
his own ass.
His testimony could be
what puts Lance Tonin behind bars for a very long time.
But it starts with the kid.
We need him.”