Deadly Holidays (2 page)

"No, Shawn," he said.
The muscle at the side of his jaw tightened, but Michael fought to control the anger that filled him. His son, Michael Jr., was the same age. Shawn should have been able to count on his father to protect him, just as Michael Jr. depended on him.  In a perfect world, Shawn would not have experienced beatings at the hands of his father. And he would not have witnessed the abuse his mother suffered.  "Let's talk about when you testify."

"I'm scared." Shawn said, as he crossed his arms across his chest.

"I know, Shawn.  But you're braver than you think.  I know you can do this."  Michael squeezed the little boy's hand and continued.  "When you are in the witness chair, I will be asking you some questions."

"I know.  Detective Blake said I must tell the truth."

"He's right.  Tell the truth," said Michael.  "When I'm asking you questions, it will help if you only look at me.  Don't look around the room, and don't look at your dad."

Biting his lip, Shawn nodded.  "Yes, sir."

"Speak loudly enough so that you can be heard," Michael advised. "Don't worry.  I'll be standing close to you.  I'll be right there if you need me."

"Will the judge make my daddy stop hitting us so that we can be a family like Billy Collins has?  His mommy and daddy are nice to each other.  They kiss.  Sometimes they pull Billy into a big hug."

Michael's heart squeezed as he struggled for the right words to comfort the boy.  "Shawn, the judge will do all he can to change your dad's behavior.  But when it comes right down to it, your dad must decide to change."

A loud rap on the door let Michael know that Blake Stone had arrived to take Shawn to the courthouse, and wait with him until the boy testified.  Michael affectionately patted Shawn's back, then headed for the door.

<><><> 

At her front door, Jennifer Brennan-Stone stood aside so her parents, Megan and Tim, could enter her house.  Their arms filled with Christmas presents, they headed for the living room where Jennifer and Blake's glittering, decorated tree stood before a wide window.

"Gonna snow tonight," predicted her dad.  Though he was sheriff, he prided himself on his accurate weather predictions.  "By the way, you're huge.  When did your doctor say the baby was due?"

"Thanks for pointing out my size, Dad," Jennifer said as she waddled to the sofa to sit down.  "If I get any bigger, I'll have to shop at the tent and awning store for clothes."

Megan sat on the sofa and picked up a soft throw to lay across her daughter's lap.  "Ignore your dad.  He's missing the filter that goes from his brain to his mouth."

"Jennifer, you know how excited I am about this baby.  If I comment on your size, it just means I'm hoping for twins.  Or how about triplets?"  A grin teased the corners of Tim's mouth.

Jennifer groaned and threw a sofa pillow at her father as he eased into the recliner.  Truth be known, Jennifer didn't care if she had one baby or three, just as long as they were healthy.  She and Blake had already decided to fill their home with children — as many as they could afford.

Megan leaned over to kiss her daughter on the cheek.  "You look beautiful, honey.  You've got that happy glow that pregnant women get."

"Thanks, Mom.  I am happy.  I can't wait until this baby arrives, and neither can Blake."

"Are you still telling your doctor you don't want to know if it's a boy or a girl?" asked Tim.

"I want it to be a surprise — the best holiday surprise ever."

"Yeah, I get it.  But I sure would like to know.  It'd make it a lot easier to choose those sports-related Christmas presents I've been eying."

Megan rolled her eyes and said, "This baby isn't even born yet and you've got it playing sports."

"Lean toward soccer, Dad," said Jennifer.  "Blake and I are hoping he or she will want to play soccer.  It turns out we both played in high school."

"Where's Blake?" asked Tim.

"He went to Michael Brandt's office to pick up Shawn Isaac and take him to the courthouse.  Today is John Isaac's hearing, and Blake wants to be there for Shawn," Jennifer explained.  "I just wish I could have been there, too.  It's going to be tough for Shawn to testify against his father."

"Honey, your doctor has you on bed rest for a reason.  You're not going anywhere," said Megan.

"Blake really likes that kid," Tim began.  "I think the feelings are mutual. Did you know that Shawn requested Blake for my Buddy Program that pairs children-at-risk with law enforcement officers?"

"Yes. Blake really enjoys spending time with Shawn,” she answered.  “They made lasagna together last weekend." Jennifer smiled as she glanced at the numerous presents under the tree that were for Shawn.  He'd become a frequent visitor, thanks to the Buddy Program.  "He is a very special little boy.  I think he owns a piece of Blake's heart, and mine, too."

"Too bad about his dad," said Tim.  "What kind of a man beats his wife and five-year-old son?  I hope the judge throws the book at him.  The last thing that little boy should be doing this time of year is telling a courtroom filled with people how his father abused his mother and him."

<><><> 

It was an overcast day with puffy snow clouds dotting the gray sky, as Blake walked Shawn through town to the courthouse.  Shop owners spared no expense in the glistening ornaments and glittering lights gracing their store windows, capturing the curiosity of small children.  Shawn paused before each, his eyes filled with wonder.  Blake's heart clenched as he speculated about what kind of Christmas the little boy would have at home.  He'd heard that Shawn's mother had lost her job and was drinking again.  Blake was going to ask Eve if she and Shawn would join his family and friends for Christmas dinner.  Everyone was gathering at Tim and Megan's Victorian home, and there would be children with whom Shawn could play.  The little boy had stolen his heart.  He'd do anything to make Shawn’s life better, happier.

Blake felt a tug on his coat sleeve and found Shawn had stopped before a storefront filled with shiny, new toys.  Wordlessly, the little boy stood staring inside the shop window.  He reached for Blake's hand and held on. 

"What do you want for Christmas, Shawn?"

"I want a fire truck, a train and a soccer ball," he answered, as he bent his neck to look up at the big man.

"That right?"  Blake said with a smile.  He and Jennifer had wrapped those three items and placed them under their Christmas tree the night before. 

Glancing at his watch, Blake said, "We need to go now, Shawn.  We don't want to be late." He and Shawn walked hand-in-hand down the street toward the giant brick courthouse where the fate of the little boy's father would be decided.  Blake wished the hearing were over.   More than anything, he wanted the kid clutching his hand so tightly to be happy and wondering about things other than why his father abuses his mother and him.

In no time, Blake and Shawn passed through security and climbed the marble steps leading to the second floor.  As they approached Judge Jackson's courtroom, Blake could see Eve Isaac, Shawn's mother.  She was scheduled to testify against her husband, John, then Shawn would enter the courtroom to sit in the witness chair.  Blake was glad Judge Jackson was overseeing this hearing.  He was a fair man, and very perceptive about the needs of children. 

Eve Isaac hugged her little boy, then introduced Blake to her mother, Helen, who was wheelchair-bound, thanks to a leg amputation.  The bailiff opened the courtroom doors and both women entered to take their seats.   Blake and Shawn waited on a bench in the hallway for Shawn to be called to testify.

<><><> 

Shawn sat on the hard, oaken bench next to Blake, biting his lip as he worried about testifying.  His mommy, Blake, and Mr. Michael told him that telling the truth was the right thing to do.  He shoved his hands in his coat pockets and balled his fingers into fists.  He was so afraid.  Shawn hadn't been this frightened since his daddy shoved his mommy against the wall and she hit her head hard. 

This time the fear gripping his insides had nothing to do with his father.  Shawn feared someone would ask questions about his mommy.  Blake and Mr. Michael told Shawn to always tell the truth.  But his mommy said if he ever told anyone about what she did to him; the bad people would take him away from her.   They'd make him live with mean people who didn't like children, and they would beat him harder than she ever did.

At first, he thought he earned Mommy's whippings by doing things that annoyed her, like leaving his toys in the living room, or not eating everything on his plate.  But after Mommy lost her job, she started drinking just like his daddy.  When she was drinking, any little thing would set her off. She'd make a switch from a branch from the tree out back, and lash it across his back and butt until he thought he'd die from the pain.  In the morning, or when she was sober, she was always sorry and begged him not to tell.  He promised he wouldn't, which created his current dilemma.  If anyone asked, he'd betray his mommy by not keeping his promise to never tell.  But if he didn't tell the truth, he'd let down Mr. Michael and Blake.  He wished he could run away and hide.  Then he wouldn't let anyone down.

<><><> 

Though his attorney ordered him not to look at her, John Isaac couldn't take his eyes off his wife, Eve, as she sat in the witness chair.  She would regret opening her mouth, he vowed.  She'd ruined his life.  The Sugar Creek Cafe was nearly bankrupt, thanks to the coverage in the local paper of his arrest for domestic battery.  The goody-two-shoes patrons stopped eating at his restaurant.  Just like that.  They'd enjoyed his good food and service for years.  One little arrest, and they avoided his restaurant like they would a case of food poisoning. 

The bitch was divorcing him, and John's attorney said she'd get the small farm where they'd lived since their honeymoon.  Hell, Eve would probably get fifty-percent ownership of the failing cafe, too.  All that plus child support.  John gritted his teeth as he glared at her. If the deputy sitting behind him didn't have a gun in his holster, he'd take the chance to rush her in the witness chair and give her the beating she deserved.  Eve would pay for ruining his life.  He didn't know where or when, but she'd pay.

<><><> 

Blake looked at his watch.  It was almost over; Shawn was testifying and holding up well.  Michael Brandt finished with his last question and John Isaac's attorney announced he would not be asking Shawn any questions.  Judge Jackson found John Isaac guilty and set the date for the sentencing and released Isaac on his own recognizance, with the caveat that he stay away from his estranged wife and son.  With a tap of the gavel, the hearing was over.

Blake ushered Shawn to the hallway to turn him over to his mother, so he wouldn't be late to drive Jennifer to her appointment with the obstetrician.   They were doing another sonogram today, and Blake didn't want to miss a last peek at their baby prior to birth.

Eve Isaac was deep in conversation with her mother and a friend when Blake approached her with Shawn.  She nodded her thanks and continued her conversation.   Her little boy stood awkwardly near her and watched Blake leave.