A Nest of Sparrows Read online

  “All right, all right. I understand. Someone will be out to pick up the children tomorrow morning. Around ten. Please have their things ready.” Dee eased the phone back into its cradle and sat staring into oblivion, wondering where in the world the two preteen siblings who had been living with the Xaviers would go.

  Next to paperwork, these kinds of challenges were Dee’s least favorite part of her job.

  She’d worked successfully with this particular foster home for almost two years now. Ben and Karen Xavier had taken in more than a dozen children during that time, often having three or four foster children under their roof at any given time. But Willy and LaShondra Green were high maintenance children, and the Xaviers felt they were jeopardizing the other child in their care––and taking time away from their own family. They’d decided that in the future they could only take in one child at a time. Now Dee was stuck finding new placements for two children who were not easy to place.

  She put her computer to sleep, stood, and stretched. Sighing, she went across the hall and poked her head into Clay Two Feathers’ office. “Hey, I’m in a major pickle.”

  Clay looked up from his computer. “Oh yeah? What’s wrong, can’t decide what to have for lunch?”

  “No, I’m serious, Clay. I need some advice.”

  He took his hands off the keyboard and gave her his full attention.

  “Karen Xavier just called, and she wants us to come and get the Green kids.”

  He looked at her askance. “Right now?”

  “Tomorrow,” Dee said, recounting her conversation with Karen. “I have no idea where we’re supposed to put those kids.”

  Clay shook his head. “Man, that hurts to lose the Xaviers. You don’t think they’re getting out all together, do you?”

  “No. They still have Kimbra Johnson. It’s just…well, you know what the Green kids are like. I can’t really blame them.”

  “No…that’s for sure.”

  “You don’t have any brilliant suggestions, do you?”

  He drummed his ballpoint pen on the top of his desk. “What about Lonni Barker?”

  “Full to overflowing.”

  “That new family over on West Douglas…the ones with the seven-bedroom house?”

  Dee shook her head. “Same thing.”

  “Doesn’t leave many options, then, does it?”

  Reading his thoughts, she rubbed her temples and sighed in frustration. “Clay, I’m not letting these kids go to Vickridge.”

  Vickridge Children’s Home was a last resort as far as Dee was concerned. The institution was well-staffed and well-run, but it housed mostly incorrigibles––older kids who were all too proficient teachers for any innocents unfortunate enough to land there. No way was she subjecting Willy and LaShondra to that place. They had enough problems as it was. She’d take them home with her first.

  Clay shrugged, but the look he gave her conveyed empathy. “I don’t know what to tell you, Dee. I wish I could help.”

  “I know,” she sighed. “I’ll figure something out. I just needed some moral support.”

  Clay looked at his watch. “It’s almost lunchtime. How about I support you morally over a cheeseburger from Junie’s?”

  “I can’t, Clay. I’ve got to figure out where I’m going to put these kids. I guess I’ll call Betty Graffe at SRS and see if she has any ideas.” Did Clay even detect the exasperation in her voice? Sometimes the man was too laid back for his own good.

  Clay pressed his palms on the edge of his desk, pushed his chair away, then raised well-muscled brown arms in a languorous stretch. “Dee, you’ve got to eat sometime. Go call Betty, alert Jim at Vickridge if you need to, then give me a buzz and I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll go with you to pick up the kids tomorrow if you want.”

  It wouldn’t break her heart to have Clay along for support, but it wasn’t exactly kosher office procedure for both of them to go on a call. Besides, she knew Clay had ulterior motives. She’d encouraged him more than she should, as it was, accepting lunch invitations and even a movie date once. She loved the man as a friend, but she was afraid he saw much more than friendship in their future.

  “Thanks, Clay, but––no thanks.”

  She felt a rush of guilt for the look of dejection that washed over his face.

  He heaved a sigh and rolled his chair back up to his desk. “Suit yourself.” He slid out his keyboard drawer and started typing.

  Dee stared at him for a long minute, started to say something to smooth things over, then changed her mind and turned toward the door.

  She went back across the hall and plopped down in her chair, pulling the telephone close. She had enough problems without worrying about Clay Two Feathers.

  Chapter 13

  The queue at the pharmacy was half-a-dozen customers long. When it was finally Wade’s turn, he paid for the cough syrup and practically ran out to his pickup.

  It always made him a little nervous to leave the kids home alone––even if it was just for a few minutes. But Lacey’s cough had definitely gotten worse since yesterday morning. He didn’t think she was running a fever, and she didn’t seem to be in pain, but he wanted to nip this in the bud. He didn’t want to go through another hassle with the hospital about the insurance.

  Wade headed out of town with a sigh of relief. A few minutes later, as he pulled into the driveway, his pulse quickened as he noticed a white Chevy Cavalier parked in front of his house. Anyone who knew him understood it was strictly a back-door policy around Wade Sullivan’s place.

  A little dart of alarm went through him when he noticed that the Cavalier’s license plates bore the word “official” over the distinctive design reserved for state-owned vehicles. What was going on? Had something happened to one of the kids? He’d been gone longer than he intended. He glanced at his watch and cringed. It had been almost thirty-five minutes. But surely if anything was wrong, the kids would have called him on his cell phone. He pulled the phone from his belt and checked to make sure it was turned on. The display screen flashed reassuringly.

  He parked the truck around back and went in the entryway, taking the short flight of steps up to the kitchen two at a time. When he opened the door, the smell of last night’s scorched macaroni and cheese hit him, and he noted with chagrin that the kids had not cleaned up the kitchen like he’d asked. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes, the counters were littered with the makings of supper, and he crunched this morning’s Frosted Flakes with every other step.

  Voices floated from the living room and he went to investigate.

  A dark-haired woman of about fifty was perched on the edge of the sofa, leaning in toward Lacey and Danica, who nodded solemnly at her. Beau sat apart on Wade’s recliner, watching impassively.

  Wade cleared his throat. The woman started and jumped to her feet. “Oh…hello, Mr. Sullivan.” She stuck out a hand. “I’m Betty Graffe with Coyote County Social and Rehabilitation Services.”

  Wade deposited the package from the pharmacy on an end table and offered his hand tentatively. His face must have revealed his confusion because the woman said, “You don’t have any idea why I’m here?”

  Wade shook his head. Had someone reported that he’d left the kids alone? But who would have known? He’d only been gone half an hour. He’d heard of other people who left children younger than his alone for hours at a time after school. “Is there a problem,” he finally said.

  She ducked her head briefly, turned her back to the kids, and lowered her voice. “Our office received a call that there might possibly be children in need of care at this residence. We are obligated to check out such reports. I wonder if you can you shed any light on why a report might have been made?” She wet her lips and waited.

  “I don’t understand,” Wade said. “Who made the call?”

  “I’m sorry. We’re not allowed to give out that information.” She flipped a page of the yellow legal pad she carried and referred to a sheet of paper tucked inside. “The report I hav
e was filed on June 4. The caller apparently had some concern about the fact that your children are without health insurance, and there was some question about the cause of an injury one of the children was treated for.”

  Someone from the hospital emergency room must have reported him. Wade was sure the social worker could see his heart pounding through his shirt. “Everything’s fine here. I can assure you the kids are well taken care of.” His mind raced. What had the “informant” told SRS?

  “I’d like to visit with the children for a few minutes,” Ms. Graffe said, her legal pad poised for note taking. “Alone, if I could, please.”

  “It looks to me like you’ve already done that,” Wade said.

  “Actually, I was waiting for you to get back.” She looked accusingly at her watch, then met his gaze. “Could I have a few minutes with them, please?”

  Wade looked at the floor and wagged his head. “No. I’m sorry, I’m not comfortable with that. Anything you have to ask them you can ask in front of me.”

  “Mr. Sullivan…we find that children usually feel more free to speak honestly if their parent”––she looked at him pointedly––“or guardian…isn’t present.”

  His stomach clenched. “What exactly are the accusations against me?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mean to imply that any accusations have been made––certainly not against you, personally. Someone just expressed concern that perhaps the children were not being properly cared for and––”

  “Well, if that was the accusation, then it was against me personally because I’m the one caring for them.” He struggled to keep his temper in check and tipped his head toward the knot of towheaded children staring up at them with curious faces. “I think you can see they are doing fine.”

  She nodded concession. “Mr. Sullivan, I realize that many times when SRS makes a home visit, people fear we are here to remove the children from the home. I can assure you that is not why I am here today. Please, Mr. Sullivan, it will make things much easier if you’ll just allow me to speak with the children. It won’t take but a few minutes.”

  Wade felt something akin to panic rise within him, but he looked pointedly at the kids, who were taking in the exchange with wide eyes. “I’ll be right out here.” He indicated the wide arched doorway leading to the combination dining room and kitchen. “Please…be gentle. Especially with this one”––he reached to cup a hand over Dani’s head––“she’s tenderhearted.”

  Betty Graffe held up her palm and shook her head. “Of course, of course… It’s not my intention to upset anyone.”

  Wade cleared a pile of wrinkled, clean laundry off one end of the sofa and motioned for her to be seated.

  “Hey, guys, Ms. Graffe is going to ask you some questions, okay? I’ll be right in here.” He hooked a thumb toward the dining room, but lingered for a long minute before leaving the room. He turned off the fan whirring in the corner, then sat down at his desk near the doorway with a clear view to the living room. Idly shuffling some papers on the desk, he caught the social worker’s eye. He wanted her to be fully aware that he intended to listen to every word.

  He couldn’t see the children’s faces from where he sat, but he watched Ms. Graffe’s profile as she leaned in toward them, her pen poised.

  “I’m a social worker,” the woman said in a teacher’s patient voice. “Do you know what that is?”

  Silence. But Wade could picture Dani’s and Lacey’s shiny bangs swinging as they shook their heads. And even without seeing Beau’s face, he could detect the studied indifference in his demeanor.

  “My job is to help children and make sure they are safe,” Ms. Graffe continued. “I have a few questions I need to ask you, and then if you have any questions for me, you can ask afterward. So you might be thinking of some questions for me, okay?”

  Ms. Graffe cleared her throat. “Do you live here with Mr. Sullivan?”

  “We live with Wade,” Dani said.

  From his seat at the desk, Wade couldn’t help but smile. He saw the social worker’s cheekbones rise in a grin, as well. But just as quickly, her expression turned serious again.

  “Now, who all lives here in this house? You three children and Wade?”

  “Uh-huh,” the children chorused.

  “Anybody else? What about your mommy?”

  “She died,” Beau spat out, sounding angry all over again.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. When did she die?”

  “Mama and Wade were gonna get married, and he was gonna be our daddy,” Lacey said between raspy coughs. “Now Wade’s sad all the time.”

  Wade felt his throat tighten. He thought he’d hidden his feelings from the children better than that.

  “I’m sure he is sad. What about your daddy?”

  “Wade’s gonna be our daddy.” Dani said.

  “I mean your real daddy. Your birthfather. Do you know what a birthfather is?”

  Silence.

  “Was your mommy married before?”

  “We’re not s’posed to talk about him,” Beau said in a monotone.

  “Oh? Why not?”

  “He wasn’t nice to our mama,” Beau said, his voice almost a whisper.

  Wade had to strain to hear.

  Ms. Graffe leaned closer. “Oh?”

  “He hurt Mama. He hit her all the time.”

  “Oh, my! I’m sorry to hear that. Did he ever hit you or your sisters?”

  “He never even saw Dani,” Beau said. “Mama got us away from him before she was born. He was mean.”

  Wade was shocked to hear how much Beau remembered.

  “Does he sometimes visit you…here at Wade’s?” Ms. Graffe asked.

  “Huh-uh,” Lacey said. “He lives far, far away.”

  “I see. Well…how do you like living with Wade?” She turned toward the archway and snuck a glance at Wade.

  He met her gaze head-on.

  “It’s okay. He’s cool.” This from Beau.

  Wade was surprised and pleased to get this vote of confidence from what was, of late, an unlikely source.

  “Wade’s nice,” Danica said.

  “Does Wade have a girlfriend?”

  Wade saw three heads wagging in response.

  “Our mama was his girlfriend,” Lacey offered. “But now she’s in heav––” Her words were lost in another deep fit of coughing.

  Betty Graffe gave her a look of concern, but she made no comment and went on with her questions.

  “Can you tell me where Wade works?”

  “He fixes up houses and roofs and stuff,” Beau said.

  “And who takes care of you while Wade is at work?”

  Beau gave an impatient sigh. “We go to school while he’s at work.”

  “And after school?”

  “Sometimes we go to daycare, and sometimes we go to Aunt Sophie’s.” It sounded as though the usually uncommunicative Beau was warming up to the interrogation.

  “When I got here today you were alone in the house. Does that happen a lot?”

  Danica recited the rules. “We hafta be good and stay in the house and not talk to strangers.”

  “But you answered the door and let me in,” Ms. Graffe reminded them.

  “Are you gonna tell Wade?” Lacey whispered, in a way that told Wade she’d been the one to let the woman in.

  The social worker ignored the question. “How long were you here by yourselves before I came this afternoon? Have you been alone since you got home from school?”

  “Aunt Sophie picked us up from school,” Beau said.

  “Oh. Well, does Wade leave you here by yourselves very often?”

  “Whenever we hafta stay by ourself he always says”––Lacey notched her voice down an octave in imitation of Wade––“ ‘I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. You guys call my cell phone if you need me.’ ”

  “I see…” Betty Graffe ruffled the pages of the legal pad and made a few notes. “Can you tell me what happens when you get in trouble?”

  “You
have to go to the principal’s office,” Beau said.

  She smiled. “No, I mean when you get in trouble at home. With Wade.”

  “He’s strict,” Beau snorted.

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “He doesn’t let you get away with anything. We have to do what he says. And do our chores.”

  “What happens if you disobey––if you do something you’re not supposed to?” “We get in trouble,” Dani piped up.

  Good for you, Dani girl. Don’t make it too easy on the old gal.

  “What does that mean exactly––in trouble?”

  “Huh? It means in trouble.” Beau’s tone of voice suggested he thought Ms. Graffe might be a few aces short of a full deck.

  “What I mean is, if you get in trouble, do you get punished? Like… do you get sent to your room or––”

  “Oh yeah…” Beau said, vibrato in his voice. “Stuck in your room for the whole day.”

  “And extra chores,” Lacey said.

  “Or a spankin’ if you’re really bad,” Dani added.

  “Not me,” Beau said. “I’m too big for spankings.”

  “Don’t count on it,” Wade hollered from his place at the desk.

  “Hey!” Beau sputtered, obviously unaware Wade had been listening in. But the feminine chuckle that followed made Wade hopeful he’d wormed his way into Betty Graffe’s good graces.

  But her next question sent a flash of heat through his core.

  “Danica, I noticed you have a bandage on your forehead. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Wade heard Beau’s sharp intake of breath, and his heart went out to the boy.

  “I got hit by the baffroom door,” Dani said.

  “How did that happen?”

  Silence.

  “Do you remember what happened?” Ms. Graffe prodded.

  “Huh-uh,” Dani said. It sounded as if her thumb had gone into her mouth.

  Wade jumped up from the desk and went to stand in the archway. “Ms. Graffe, could I speak to you for a minute please?”

  Her brows shot up, but she laid her legal pad on the sofa and came to meet him in the dining room.