She broke away and started pacing. “I don’t believe this! It’s one thing after another! All I want is a little peace and quiet, and then…” She plopped back down on the sofa and slapped her hands over her face. Her voice cracked as she spoke. “I’m just so…tired!”
“It may be nothing.”
“Itisn’tnothing. It’snevernothing! It’s always something! She’s been bleeding hard. I just thought it was a rough period. I didn’t eventhinkabout pregnancy.” Again she started to pace. “Is she in trouble with the law?”
“Obviously, there are circumstances here.”
“It’s going to be hell! I just know it! I’m going to need a lawyer. I’m going to have to make a court appearance! And I’m going to look like a total idiot! How could I have not known!”
“She’s a heavy girl. It’s completely understandable. The main thing is to get her medical attention. That’s the reason I’m here. To help her, not to hurt her.”
She stopped racing about, covered her mouth with her hand, then let it drop to her side. “Of course. You’re being very understanding.”
“Both of you will be okay.”
She looked at my face. “The baby’s okay?”
“She’s absolutely adorable.”
A smile spread over her distraught face. “Thank God!”
“Ms. Sanders… did you know that Sarah-”
“No idea! She never mentioned any boy… any special boy. She mentioned lots of boys. She wassupposedto be on the pill.”
“Birth control isn’t perfect.”
“Especially if she didn’t take it. It wouldn’t be the first time. She has a bad gag reflex. It’s hard for her to swallow little things like pills. And liquid medicine makes her gag because it tastes so awful. I should have sterilized-” She cut herself off and looked away.
“I know that lots of the girls in Fordham are sterilized. I am not judging you, ma’am. It is extremely arrogant for anyone to judge you.”
“Thank you.” She wiped tears from her face. “Please call me Louise.”
“All right. How about we both sit down, Louise?”
A nod and we reclaimed our respective places.
I said, “So you don’t know if Sarah was having sex or not.”
“Obviously, she was having sex!”
I tried to put this as delicately as I could. “Consensual sex, I mean.”
“Oh my God!” She leaped to her feet. “She wasraped?”
“Louise, let’s not assume anything. It was just a question. That’s why I need to talk to her. That’s why she needs medical attention.”
She sighed and tried to calm herself. “Do you want to talk to her now?”
“Yes, but not for too long.” As long as she was standing, I figured I should get to my feet. “Our first concern is getting her to a hospital. I’ll take you there, if you want.”
“You are being sonice,Officer Decker.” Again the tears started. “That’s all right. I have a car. What are they going to do to her?”
“I imagine that after checking her out, they’ll take a blood test and verify that she’s the baby’s mother. You know, first things first.” I hesitated. “Louise, the baby’s biracial.”
She blinked several times. “She’sblack?”
“Part black.”
Silence.
“Thank you for telling me.” She choked on her words. “I’ll go get her. Please be gentle. Despite how it may appear, I love her very much.”
“Louise, I don’t doubt it for a second.”
She clasped her hands together. “You know, it doesn’t matter to me what the baby is as long as she’s healthy.”
“She’s healthy.”
“That’s all that counts.” A moment’s hesitation. “I’ll go get Sarah.”
By the way the young girl carried herself, it appeared as if her chin were attached to her chest. Though her eyes were squeezed shut as tightly as humanly possible, tears managed to leak through. Limp strands of blond hair covered her cheeks. Her hands were white-knuckled, balled up into fists. Her brown smock pulled against her generous breasts. Louise placed a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s going to be all right, Sarah. You just have to talk to the nice police officer. And you have to be honest.”
No response from Sarah. I said, “Does your tummy hurt, honey?”
A slight nod of the head.
“We’re going to take you to a doctor to fix that, okay?”
Silence.
“Do you know why your tummy hurts?” I pressed on.
She didn’t answer, but I noticed that she had turned her knees inward. Her pink cheeks had become damp with tears. I said, “The baby is fine, Sarah. It’s a beautiful, healthy girl. And maybe one day, your sister, Louise, will take you to see her.”
She raised her head and glanced at me. Then she dropped her chin to her chest.
Louise broke in. “Sarah, whodidthis to you?”
I squeezed Louise’s arm. She exhaled with awhoosh,shook me off, and stomped off to the other side of the room. Though I really wanted to ask Sarah about her sexual experience, I knew my limitations. This little girl required a specialist. As a police officer, I was concerned with only one thing: if the sex was forced or not. But right now, there were more pressing issues at stake-her health, confirmation that she was the mother, legal ramifications of her act of child endangerment. I decided to forgo the questioning until I had notified the proper channels.
And until I talked to Dad.
“I think we should take her to the hospital now. I’ll call up my sergeant and have someone meet us down there. We should probably get in touch with someone from Mental Health. Does she have a psychologist?”
“She has every single specialist in the world. She’s been well taken care of.”
“I don’t doubt that.”
“Will I need a lawyer?” Louise bit hard on a thumbnail.
“If you have one, it would be a good idea to call him up.”
Another heavy sigh.
I said, “She’ll be okay.”
“I know, I know. She’s always okay. She’s always okay!”
“You’ll be okay, too, Louise.”
“Me?” Louise’s laugh was hard and bitter. “Sister, my welfare is another story altogether!”
There were patson the back from my colleagues and smiles from the brass. There was a time when my accomplishments would have been viewed with suspicion. But last year, I had played the game, drinking with the guys and girls after hours and attending more backyard barbecues than I’d care to recount. I kept my mouth shut, bowled in the Hollywood Women’s League, and did my job. The “incident”-as I refer to it to my therapist-had kicked a lot of life out of me. Bad for the creative spirit, but great for blending in with the masses.
Sarah was out of my hands now, kicked upstairs to the gold shields and the professionals who made their living by helping people talk. I was left with the satisfaction of a job well done, and a curiosity about who had fathered this baby girl. I knew more than Russ MacGregor-the detective who had taken over for Greg-because I had inside information from Koby. If Russ was decent enough, I’d share the facts.
I was off all Friday and had the day to relax. I Googled Yaakov Kutiel, and thankfully he came out honest. Koby’s public claim to fame was being part of the hospital’s outreach program for unwed mothers and fatherless children who lived in Central L.A. For this evening’sShabbatdinner, I kept my look simple: a Kelly green sweater over a black midiskirt and knee-high black boots. Around my neck was a gold chain; my earlobes sported a set of round pearls. I topped off the outfit with a gray pashmina draped over my shoulders.
Koby lived in the hills of Silver Lake, his street on an incline of around thirty degrees. The address corresponded with a tiny, square stucco box that peeked out from the boughs of eucalyptus gone wild. I parked in the driveway behind a ten-year-old Toyota compact, making sure the emergency brake was on. I made the climb up to the front door and knocked, noticing the large ceramic mezuzah attached to the door frame. I’m not sure what I expected when I came in, but I didn’t expect what I saw.