Blue (16 page)

All Ginny could think about on the plane to New York was what she had seen in Chicago. The strikingly handsome man in the Roman collar, the dazzling smile, the eyes that held a thousand secrets and had a frightening harshness to them in contrast to the smile. She couldn't stop thinking of the boy he had led through the door, and that the child's life would be marked forever if something unsavory had happened after that. She had no proof, just her own fear of it. They really had to stop him. For now Father Teddy was doing whatever he wanted to the young boys in his parish, just as he had in New York. She wondered if anyone knew or suspected, and if that was why they had transferred him to Chicago or if until now, he had been entirely above suspicion or reproach.

Her flights had been on time, and Blue was home from school, watching TV, when she walked into the apartment, tired from a full day of traveling, even though it had gone smoothly and according to plan. Ginny looked serious as she sat down on the couch next to him. He was beginning to know her, and reacted immediately to the expression on her face. He thought he was in trouble, although he had gotten an A-plus on a history test that day, but she didn't know yet. He was excited to tell her.

“Is something wrong?” he asked her nervously.

“Yes, but not with you,” she was quick to clarify when she saw the fear in his eyes. “I just came back from Chicago. I saw him.” He knew she was going that day, he just hadn't known what time she got back.

“Father Teddy?” His eyes were worried, as she nodded.

“I can see why everyone loves him. He's all bullshit and charm, and he's very good-looking. And he has the meanest eyes I've ever seen.” She didn't tell him how unnerved she'd been by seeing the boy he had led away—she didn't want to remind him of his own experiences with the man, which were upsetting enough. “I really think he has to be stopped. Either the church knows about him, and they're moving him from place to place to keep him out of trouble, or they have no idea, and they're unleashing him innocently on new communities to damage more kids. Either way, he needs to be exposed, and he belongs in prison.”

“Charlene loves him. She'll never believe anything wrong about him. Maybe no one else will either.” But he liked what Ginny had said about him. It made Blue feel validated.

“We have to find a way to make his victims feel brave enough to come forward.” But she knew many wouldn't, and would stay hidden forever, deeply ashamed and badly scarred. “I'm not sure where we start,” she admitted to Blue thoughtfully. “I guess with the police. My friend Kevin says they'll investigate him. But I want to see a lawyer with you, too, to advise us.” She had all the numbers Kevin had given her.

But she looked deep into Blue's eyes with the most important question of all. “What do you say, Blue? Are you in? Do you want more time to think about it? This probably won't be easy, and if it goes to court, you'll have to take the stand and testify. The judge might let you do it in chambers, because of your age, but more than likely, your identity will come out at some point. How do you feel about that?”

“Scared,” he said honestly, and she smiled. “But I think I could do it. I think you're right. Someone should. I'm older now, and maybe I'd hit him if he touched me, or maybe I wouldn't even now, since he said he'd put me in jail. But before, I was too afraid to say anything to him, and everyone thinks he's such a great guy. I knew no one would ever believe me…except you.” Blue smiled at her with love and gratitude in his eyes.

Ginny wondered if this was why their paths had crossed, so she could help free him from the terrible burden he'd been carrying. She didn't want it to cripple him for the rest of his life, and she knew it could. Damaged relationships, lack of trust, inability to attach, sexual dysfunction, nightmares, panic attacks. There were a host of possibilities, and she wanted none of that for him. She hoped that truth, love, and justice would help heal him.

“I'm in,” Blue said softly then, looking her straight in the eye. He had no doubt, no matter how scared he was. He knew Ginny would help get him through it. “I want to do it,” Blue confirmed.

“So do I. I'm in with you,” she told him, and stuck out her hand for him to shake. Their eyes met and held as they did. “I'll call the Child Abuse Unit tomorrow. Let me know if you change your mind,” she said clearly. She didn't want him to do something he didn't feel right about or was too afraid to do. It was entirely his choice.

“I won't,” Blue said, about changing his mind. “I'm sure.” She got up from the couch then and went to cook dinner, and he opened his laptop and looked at YouTube until it was ready. Then he set the table as he did every night, and they sat down to the simple meal Ginny had put together. She tried to make him healthy meals, which were good for her, too. And both of them were quiet as they thought of what lay ahead. “When are you going to call them?” Blue asked her, breaking into her thoughts. She was thinking of Father Teddy again, and couldn't get out of her head the vision of the little boy he had led away.

“Tomorrow.” Blue nodded. They both went to bed early. It had been a long day. And he hugged her when he left in the morning. He had shown her the history test he got an A-plus on, and she had told him how proud of him she was. It still amazed her to realize that she had become the surrogate mother of a teenager overnight, and she felt like she had a lot to learn at times. She just used her heart and common sense, and she reasoned with him like an adult. He was still a kid and acted like it at times. But he was sensible and respectful of her, and grateful for everything she did. He had loved the trip to L.A., and he and Lizzie had become fast friends.

After he left for school, she called the number Kevin Callaghan had given her for the Child Abuse Unit. He didn't have a specific name, just the department number, as his lieutenant friend in L.A. knew none of them in New York. The phone was answered by a woman, and Ginny asked for an appointment to come in and speak with someone.

“What about?” the woman on the phone inquired, sounding bored. They got calls all day, a lot of which wasted their time, but many that didn't. Ginny knew hers would be one that didn't.

“A child molestation incident that was committed repeatedly,” Ginny said clearly. Her years as a reporter helped her go right to the heart of the matter and stay there.

“By whom?” The voice on the phone sounded instantly more serious and was paying rapt attention.

“A parish priest.” There was a pause before the next question.

“Who was molested?” Ginny assumed she was writing it down, possibly on a form of some kind.

“A boy, who was initially nine, and then ten at the time.”

“How long ago was it?” The woman sounded suspicious again. They got plenty of calls like it from forty-five-year-old men, who claimed to have been molested as children. Their claims were valid, too, and so was their sense of violation, but it was more pressing when the cases were more recent. “How old is the boy now? Is he still a minor?”

“He's thirteen.”

“Please hold,” she said, and disappeared for what felt like forever. And then she was back on the line. “Can you bring him in with you?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Does four-thirty today work for you? We just had a cancellation.”

“That will be fine,” Ginny said matter-of-factly. It had been a businesslike exchange, and she was glad that Blue wouldn't have time to wait and worry before the appointment. Now that he'd made the decision to report it, she wanted to get it done, so the timing was perfect. “Thank you very much,” Ginny said gratefully.

“You'll be meeting with Detective Jane Sanders in the Child Abuse Unit. Please ask for her when you come in.” She gave her the address then and told her how to get there. Ginny thanked her again and they hung up, and she decided to get all her calls over with at once. Next, she called Andrew O'Connor, the canonical lawyer who specialized in child and sexual abuse cases, and got his voice mail. He had a pleasant voice, and she left a message for him. And then she texted Kevin to let him know she had followed up with the name he gave her. And she spent the next two hours reading State Department reports on current hot spots, sent to her by the SOS office. It was useful information for all their workers, and she figured she'd be in one of those locations soon.

She was just taking a break when her phone rang, and it was Andrew O'Connor. She was surprised to hear how young he sounded, particularly for an ex-priest and attorney, who had spent time in the Vatican. She had expected him to be older.

“Sorry I was out when you called,” he said pleasantly. “I've had a crazy day. I'm between court appearances right now. How can I help you?” It was lunchtime, and he was obviously spending his returning phone calls, so at least she knew he was responsive.

“I just reported a sexual abuse case to the police,” she explained. “I'm the mentor of a thirteen-year-old boy. He currently lives with me. He was molested by a priest three years ago.” She got straight to the point—he was a busy man, and she didn't want to waste his time, which he appreciated.

“Molested or raped?” he asked her bluntly.

“He says molested, but there's always the possibility that there was more that he's not telling me, or that he doesn't recall himself.” The attorney was well aware of that, too.

“Why has he waited until now to come forward?” He was used to cases where people waited even longer, sometimes twenty years, but he wanted the details.

“He tried to tell his aunt at the time, but she didn't believe him. Since then, I think he was afraid, embarrassed. The priest threatened to have him put in jail if he ever told. And he hasn't had anyone to champion his cause until now. I've only been mentoring him for the last six months, and he told me just recently.” It sounded reasonable to him. There was nothing exceptional there.

“Do you know where the priest is now? Sometimes they move these guys around, to hide them or get them out of sight, particularly if they've had complaints about them.”

“That might be the case here. They transferred him to Chicago last year. I saw him yesterday,” she said. That surprised Andrew O'Connor, who sounded shocked.

“In New York? On the street? By coincidence or appointment?”

“I flew to Chicago to get a look at him. I saw him supposedly for counseling about a fictitious husband.” He was vastly impressed by what she'd done. She was on top of things and proactive, and he liked how intelligent she sounded. There were no frills, no distractions, no tears, just the facts, which saved him time.

“How did he look?” Andrew O'Connor asked, curious about it.

“Like a movie star. Tall, handsome, incredibly charismatic, eyes like a snake, and he could charm the birds off the trees. He's perfect for the part he's playing. ‘Father Teddy,' everyone's favorite teddy bear. Kids probably follow him like the Pied Piper, and the women in the parish must fall in love with him. He couldn't have been nicer. And afterward, I was in the church, and I saw him lead a little boy through a doorway with a hand on his shoulder, and close the door. God knows what happened after that. I felt totally helpless to do anything, but the thought of it makes me sick. What he did to my boy was bad enough. He let him use the piano in the church basement so he could molest him, and then threatened to have him put in jail if he told. And he managed to blame him.”

“Let me guess, for ‘tempting him,' right? That's such an old line for bad priests. The guy sounds like a real winner. I'd like to meet with your boy and talk to him. Could you come in on Monday at three?” Blue would have to leave school early to do it, but she thought it was worth it. “What's his name, by the way?”

“Blue Williams. And I'm Ginny Carter.”

“This probably sounds crazy, but were you ever on TV? My sister lives in L.A., and there used to be a TV reporter on the news with that name. I used to watch whenever I was out there.”

“That was me,” she said in a small voice.

“Wow…that's amazing. You and your husband were such a great team on the news,” he complimented her, and she found herself thinking that she was a different person now. It all seemed so long ago and was part of another life.

“Yes, we were a great team, thank you.” She tried not to sound wistful and just matter-of-fact. He was a lawyer, not a shrink.

“I noticed that you were both off the air the last few times I was in L.A.” He sounded disappointed.

“He died three and a half years ago,” she said simply.

“I'm so sorry. I wouldn't have mentioned it, but you were great.” He seemed embarrassed to have brought it up.

“Thank you.” Now he had even more faith in what she told him. He knew she was used to being accurate and factual, and reporting things as they were, not exaggerating or enhancing them. It made what she said more reliable for him, which made his job easier.

“See you on Monday with Blue,” he said pleasantly, and hung up.

And as soon as Blue came home from school that day, she told him they had an appointment with the police. He looked frightened for a second, and then nodded. In his previous life, a meeting with police was not a good thing. This time it was.

They took the subway downtown and were on time for the appointment. Ginny asked for Detective Sanders, and a very attractive woman came out to meet them a few minutes later. She was not wearing a uniform, had long red hair, and was wearing a very short tight skirt. Blue looked relieved. She didn't look like a cop to him, or like anyone who would put you in jail, although she had handcuffs at her belt, and Ginny could see the faint outline of her gun in a shoulder holster under her jacket when she moved, and her star was clipped on her belt.

“Hi, Blue,” she said easily, and offered them something to drink when they sat down in her office. She had big green eyes, and a friendly, casual style. Blue asked for a Coke, and Ginny didn't want anything. Detective Sanders spoke directly and kindly to Blue. “I'm sure it's a little unnerving coming down here. We're here to help you. We won't let anything bad happen to you, and I'm going to tell you what we're going to do all along the way. But people who hurt kids, or abuse them in any way, need to be stopped, for everyone's sake, even theirs, so you did the right thing coming down here.” She glanced at Ginny and included her in what she said, too. “Is this your mom?” she asked about Ginny.