Undercover Girl - Chapter Six

Chapter Six – Suspicious Happenings
 
Knowing he had appointments with two of his foster families, Marcus left the hospital.  He told Mrs. Harrison that she should inform Jefferson that he’d return in the late afternoon after his workday was completed. 
 
His paperwork required him to return to the office after he completed the other visits, and he hoped Amy would be there to discuss Jefferson’s case.  Few of the cubicles were occupied when Marcus entered; obviously most of the staff were on home visits or handling cases in children’s court.  The workers usually spent most of the workday out of the office. 
 
Amy hailed him from her private office even before Marcus had set down his briefcase.  “Marcus, come in here.  Now,” her voice was sharp, authoritative. 
 
“Be right there,” he replied, wondering about the fierce tone from her voice. 
 
“What did you do with Mrs. Harrison?” she asked, not bothering to greet him first. 
 
“Nothing, but discuss Jefferson’s situation with her.” 
 
“You must have done something.  She called just a little while ago and said she wants you off the case.  She’s worried about your relationship with Jefferson, that he gets upset when you’re around,” Amy said. 
 
“What?” 
 
“Yes, and she was quite adamant, saying Jefferson was crying when she told him you’d be coming back later in the day.  He’s afraid of you, apparently.  Now, that doesn’t sound like you and I don’t always accept such demands from foster parents, but since you’re new, maybe you did something to upset the boy.  I understand he’s quite fragile.”  
 
Marcus was incredulous.  The boy seemed to want to have Marcus there and had pleaded with him not to leave the hospital room.  In fact, he had whispered to Marcus that he wanted to tell him something.  He related that to Amy and she listened intently.  Hearing his explanation, her voice softened. 
 
“You know, maybe I was too quick to listen to Mrs. Harrison,” she said.  “I handled her foster care cases for just a few weeks until you came on.  Ellen Snyder had that family for several years until she left.” 
 
“Heddy thinks Jefferson was hiding something,” Marcus said. 
 
“Heddy?  Who’s Heddy?” 
 
“Oh, Officer Jelacic.  She’s the juvenile officer handling the case.  Something didn’t ring true to her in the boy’s description of the attack.  And, now the doctor has informed us that Jefferson may have been raped.” 
 
“Oh, my God.  That’s awful,” Amy said.   
 
Neither said anything for a moment.  Amy broke the silence.  “You know the Harrisons are just too good to be true.  That immaculately clean house, all the kids in their care were never truant, their beds were made each morning, almost in military school fashion.  I found it so weird, but who’s to argue with success.  We have so many families just in it to get the foster care payment and seem to care little about the kids.” 
 
“I know.  Something just dawned on me,” Marcus said. 
 
“Yeah?” 
 
“Did you look at the boys under her care?” Marcus asked. 
 
“Yes, of course.” 
 
“Didn’t you notice that the other boy Mrs. Emerson has, Larry, is much like Jefferson?  Slender, nice looking, actually almost pretty, like a girl?” 
 
“Oh, my God, now that you mention it, yes,” Amy said.  “How strange that they should all be so similar?  How could that happen?  I know the Harrisons have been willing to accept hard-to-place boys, the ones few foster parents want.  Most foster parents usually want pre-kindergarten kids.” 
 
“I don’t believe I should be taken off the case, Amy,” Marcus said. 
 
“Well, technically you won’t be,” she said.  “But for the time being, I’ll handle all the visits to the family and with Jefferson.  I see him later today and quiz him as to why he no longer wants to see you.  I need to get to the bottom of this.  You tell me he seems to have truly connected with you and she tells me, he no longer wants you.  Frankly, I can’t see you’d lie about this.” 
 
“I wouldn’t.  I worry about Jefferson, and now I’m wondering about the other boy, Larry.  Is he likely to go onto the streets and face being assaulted, too?  Heddy’s right, something’s not right about the Harrisons.” 
 
Amy nodded her head and then looked at Marcus directly.  “Heddy, eh?  First name basis with a police officer.  Is she that good-looking blonde in JD?” 
 
Marcus blushed.  “Yes, she’s the JD officer.” 
 
“You free tonight, Marcus?” she asked in a question that took Marcus by surprise.
 
“Yes?” 
 
“Why not stop by my place about seven and I’ll order in Chinese?”  she said.  “Then we can talk about Jefferson and Officer Heddy.” 
 
Marcus left the office feeling puzzled about Amy’s reaction.  Could that be jealousy? He had recognized and understood her fondness for him and even her desire for some sexual fun, but given their age and job status differences he hadn’t suspected she’d had any romantic desires for him.  He certainly was not the type of young man many women would seem to want as a boyfriend. 
 
On the bus trip home, his mind wandered back and forth between Jefferson’s apparent change in mind and Amy’s strange behavior.  He was surprised when his cell phone rang and the caller was identified only as “Restricted.”  He rarely used his cell phone in public places, particularly on the bus when strangers were nearby and the call likely would be disturbing. 
 
“Sorry,” he said to his seatmate, an elderly woman who looked at him with a scowl.  “I have to take this.” 
 
She nodded, reluctantly.  Marcus put the phone to his ear. 
 
“This is Heddy, Officer Jelacic,” the voice said. 
 
“Heddy, of course.  What’s happening?”  
 
The police officer did most of the talking.  She reported that Jefferson refused to say anything more about his attack.   Heddy added that Mrs. Harrison was still in the room when she returned to pose more questions to the boy.  The foster mother refused to leave the room until Heddy said she’d have to or else she’d be arrested.  Heddy quoted Mrs. Harrison as saying “I’ll get a lawyer to sue you and your Gestapo tactics and the whole police department and city government.”  She left, Heddy continued in her narrative, but Jefferson was even more close-mouthed than before. 
 
“I think she scared the boy into keeping his mouth shut,” Heddy said.  “She’s got some sort of hold on the boy.” 
 
The officer grew even more concerned when Marcus told her he’d been told to no longer visit the family or the boy, based on complaints from Mrs. Harrison. 
 
“Oh no, that’s awful,” Officer Jelacic replied.  “You seem to be the only one he’ll talk to and now you’re gagged.  Something’s foul, Marcus.” 
 
“That’s what my supervisor thinks, too.  I’ll be talking with her about the case this evening and will call you in the morning.” 
 
“OK, see ya’,” Heddy replied.  Marcus folded his phone up to end the call.  He wondered if he sensed a flirtatious tone to the police officer’s voice. 
 
***** 
A traffic accident slowed the No. 30 bus on its trip to the transfer point at Sycamore Avenue.  Marcus saw the No. 7 bus to downtown – the bus he needed to get to Amy’s apartment – pull away, meaning he’d be about fifteen minutes late to his Chinese meal at Amy’s.  He called Amy on his cell phone, but got only the answering machine, hoping that meant she may have been late as well.  He left a message telling her he’d be a bit late. 
 
A moment later his cell buzzed.  It was Amy.  “Sorry I was in the shower, Miranda.” 
 
Marcus was surprised she called him by his feminine name, since he had felt her suggestion to share Chinese with him was to be more of a business get-together to discuss the case of Jefferson Turner.   
 
“Yeah, there was an accident that slowed my bus down and I missed my connection at Sycamore.” 
 
“That’s alright, Miranda.  I was a bit late myself.  I stopped to see Jefferson myself.  It’s as you said.  He’s totally shut down, but we can discuss that later.” 
 
“OK, Amy,” he said, pleased that her tone was friendlier than it had been in the office a few hours earlier.  Yet, he was puzzled that she continued to address him as Miranda. 
 
“What are you wearing?” Amy asked, just as he was about to end the call. 
 
“Just casual stuff,” he said warily.  “How did you want me to dress?” 
 
“I was hoping you’d be in that lovely summer dress.” 
 
“No, just jeans and a satiny shirt,” he said. 
 
“Tight-fitting jeans?” 
 
“Um . . . ah . . . yes.”  Marcus blushed. 
 
“Can’t wait to see you, Miranda,” Amy said. 
 
“Oops, here comes my bus,” he said, ending the call. 
 
***** 
Amy and Marcus were both hungry and they quickly consumed most of the two boxes of Chinese, accompanied by a few small glasses of Huangilu, a yellow wine fermented from rice.  It took not much more than a few of the tiny glasses for Marcus to feel a bit of a buzz. 
 
“How do you like this wine, Miranda?” Amy asked. 
 
“It’s different, but it sure it packs a punch,” he replied, already feeling a bit hazy in the head. 
 
“It’s twice as strong as regular wine,” she said. 
 
“You should have warned me.” 
 
She laughed.  “I just wanted to ease you a bit.  You were so tense today.  I know you care deeply for Jefferson and that perhaps you thought that maybe you blew it with him.” 
 
Over tea, the two discussed the case.  They came to the conclusion that there was something going on in the Harrison household that required looking into.  The family’s generally stellar record in handling the foster children in their care had to be considered.  Obviously, most the boys – and the family only rarely accepted girls, with sixteen-year-old Melody an exception – seemed to thrive and that should be the most important factor to consider.  Yet, Jefferson had appeared to be genuinely frightened for some reason; and then there was the fact that he was found on a street known to be heavily populated by prostitutes.  Scantily dressed women were regularly picked up by johns, a practice that police made only a slight effort to break up, apparently content to merely corral prostitution to a small area of the city.  
 
“Do you think Jefferson was out there in drag seeking to be picked up?” Marcus asked. 
 
“It doesn’t look like he’d be doing that on his own.  He’s only fourteen, my God,” Amy said. 
 
“I agree.  Maybe he was pressed into service.” 
 
Officer Jelacic had shown both of them pictures of Jefferson as he was brought into the emergency room.  They showed a well-dressed, actually tastefully and modestly dressed, young woman who looked perhaps five years older than her true age.  She had none of the looks of a streetwalker or the male transvestites that roamed the streets.  It was ten o’clock at night when she was found, not overly late for a teen, thus indicating the Harrisons may not have been derelict in monitoring the boy.   
 
“I think I’ll enlist one of the other workers to go with me to do a routine inspection of the Harrison household and to interview the other kids there,” Amy said. 
 
“You don’t want me to join in that?” 
 
“No, you’ll just raise Mrs. Harrison’s anger, not that I believe she’s right about you, but no sense in creating another hurdle for ourselves.” 
 
“I guess you’re right,” Marcus said, disappointed he couldn’t be more involved. 
 
“We'll make our inspection as routine as possible, so as to not arouse any suspicion about why we’re really there,” Amy said. 
 
“She’s accusing us of all sorts of things, now,” Marcus agreed.  “That makes me even more suspicious.” 
 
“And we better work closely with the police on this,” Amy said.  “You try to arrange a meeting with your Heddy and perhaps the vice squad to see what we can do jointly.” 
 
Marcus chafed at Amy’s phrase “your Heddy,” but let it go. 
 
“Anything else we need to discuss?” Marcus asked.  “I suppose it’s time for me to get home.” 
 
“No, Marcus, let’s forget about work now.  Stay a bit longer and share one last wine with me,” Amy said, getting up.  She grabbed him by the hand and led him into the living room.  The two sat down on the sofa for a minute, the bottle of Chinese rice wine still on the coffee table before them. 
 
Instead of pouring the wine, Amy pulled Marcus toward her and kissed him.  It was a long, lingering kiss soon accompanied by intermingled tongues.  Marcus nestled tightly against Amy and cooed softly as the woman’s hands caressed shoulders and arms.   
 
“You’re so soft to hold, Miranda,” Amy said. 
 
Marcus froze momentarily at the mention of his female name.  He realized that now to Amy he was indeed Miranda, a lovely young woman.  He held on firmly to her stout, hard arms, feeling protected in the woman’s grasp.  He spent the rest of the night in Amy’s bed.  It seemed so natural to be Miranda. 
 
***** 
Marcus awoke as light from a rising sun filtered through the drawn drapes; he was puzzled for a moment, not certain where he was.  He felt an arm lying across his chest and realized he was in bed with Amy.  There was a slight sweet scent of perfumed sheets mixed with the body odors of two sweaty lovers.  His mind was in a haze.  He smiled, recalling how the two made love, not the male to female type of love; no, this was girl to girl love.  It was new and exciting. 
 
He lifted Amy’s arm off his chest, hoping to get into the bathroom to relieve himself.  She awoke. 
 
“Don’t get up, Miranda.  Let me hold you a bit more.” 
 
He moved back next to her, kissing and tasting her stale mouth.  The sour taste should have revolted him; yet, he was excited by it.  He had no doubt his own mouth tasted similarly disgusting, due to the same diet of food, wine and sexual excretions.  Never before had he experienced such closeness to any human being; the intimacy was intoxicating. 
 
“This is so nice, Amy,” he whispered in her ear. 
 
“I could lie with you forever,” she replied, covering his face with kisses.  By now their bodies had combined, legs intertwined and arms wrapped about each other. 
 
“Amy, I think it’s time to get up,” he said.  “It’s after six.” 
 
“Oh, my God.  You’re right.  We need to be at work by eight-thirty and you need to get home first for a change of clothes.” 
 
Their moment of ecstasy ended; they showered together.  After a quick breakfast of Cheerios (Amy’s favorite cereal), bananas and coffee, the two left.  Amy drove Marcus to his apartment, where he changed quickly and the two headed for the office.  To continue their subterfuge, Amy dropped Marcus off at a Starbucks several blocks away so he could get his usual morning coffee, thus arranging so that the two arrived at the office at different times without a hint to co-workers of their evening of love. 
 
The Jefferson Turner case had occupied much of Marcus’ time the previous day and as a result he had neglected completing the written reports that were due on each of his cases.  The completing of copious reports on each of their home visits was a constant challenge for social workers everywhere, taking valuable time from dealing more intensively with people they were serving.  Paperwork demands on child protection workers had become doubly onerous, due to fears that they might be blamed for missing something that may have resulted in a tragedy involving one of their clients.  
 
Paperwork, of course, is a misnomer, since now all the reports had to be filed electronically and Marcus was still struggling with mastering the complex program required by the State’s Bureau of Child Protection.  The bureaucrats at the State Office had decided that they needed data, so they removed nearly all questions that required narrative answers; instead, the forms required the social worker to make constant judgment on various questions using a scale of 1 for negative to 5 for positive answers. 
 
“How can you put a ‘1’ or a ‘5’ on a question like how well the child relates to classmates?” Marcus complained to his friend Mollie Johnson when he first started working on the forms. 
 
“I don’t think any of those people who design these forms ever worked in the field,” Mollie Johnson grumbled in agreement.  
 
At first, his concentration on completing the forms was complicated by his musings over Jefferson’s case and the night of sexual pleasure he had with Amy.  Eventually, he realized he was faced with the challenge of completing the paperwork before his 11 a.m. appointment with one of his client families and he was soon deep into the task. 
 
***** 
As Marcus drove the agency car to his appointment with Emma Piotrowski, a foster parent who cared for two children in her modest home on the city’s west side, he realized that he’d soon have to purchase a car.  It was required for the job, and new workers were given six months in which to comply with the order.  In the meantime, the worker used either the agency’s one Ford Focus vehicle, took the bus or called a taxi when pre-approved, a process that was cumbersome and inconvenient. 
 
His thoughts about getting a car were interrupted by a cell phone call.  It was Heddy Jelacic: 
 
“Marcus, I wanted to let you know that Jefferson will be discharged from the hospital today,” she said. 
 
“Oh my,” he said, surprised.  “Is he OK to get out?” 
 
“I don’t think so, but then I’m not a doctor.” 
 
“I agree.  He really was pretty banged up.  Weren’t they worried about internal injuries, particularly his kidneys?” Marcus asked. 
 
“I know.  He was kicked hard in the groin and in the ribs.  I guess Mrs. Harrison put up such a fuss that he should be home that they finally gave in.  It seems she has a background as an R.N. and said she could care for him.  I still think it’s weird.” 
 
“Me too.  She certainly seems to have a lot of clout,” he said. 
 
“You should still be on the case!” she said.  “It’s ridiculous.  You’re the only one he’d talk to.” 
 
“I know, but Amy, my supervisor, is suspicious too and she’s going to be working the case directly with one of the others here so I think she’ll follow through.” 
 
“Well, that means I won’t be working with you Marcus.  I’m sorry about that.  I think you’re a great worker and I enjoyed knowing you.” 
 
“Thank you,” he said, adding, “And I enjoyed knowing you.” 
 
“I will have to work with Amy then if I need anything from your agency, I suppose,” the officer said. 
 
“She’s good to work with, Heddy,” he said. 
 
“Good,” she said.  “Well, bye for now.  Hope we meet again, Marcus.” 
 
“Me too.” 
 
“Hey,” Heddy said, as if it was an afterthought.  “Maybe you’d like to meet for coffee or even a beer something.” 
 
“I’d like that.” 
 
He closed his flip-phone to terminate the call.  The truth was he had grown to like Officer Heddy Jelacic.   Beneath the woman’s harsh exterior, Marcus realized was a warm, caring person who was serious about her job.  He pictured her in his mind finding her hard, almost masculine bearing to be suddenly attractive.  Her light brown hair was cropped short, but fixed in a lovely style and she was slender and obviously maintained a fit, firm body.  She was the same height as Marcus.  She was not a classic beauty and had a broad face with a flat Slavic nose.  Her eyes were a bright and clear blue.  Marcus found that the woman he at first thought was cold and heartless was in truth quite becoming. 
 
***** 
Amy had Latesha White join her in the visit to the Harrison household for what they hoped would be viewed by Mrs. Harrison as one of the routine visits all foster families received.  They weren’t done often, but all such families in this county were told at their orientation that such unannounced visits were conducted no more often than twice a year.  The families were told not to be concerned about such visits and just because the social workers turned up at their door without warning was not a sign that the agency suspected anything wrong. 
 
“What are you doing here?  Spying on us again?” Mrs. Harrison challenged Amy and Latesha when she opened the door. 
 
“Just routine, Mrs. Harrison,” Amy said.  “You know the drill.” 
 
“Well you better come in,” she said grudgingly. 
 
The two entered and were struck – as always – by the cleanliness in the house; Amy had recalled from her earlier visits to the Harrisons when she was handling the family that the house was always nearly immaculate.  It was as if the woman lived alone, even though she lived with three foster children and a husband.  Amy knew from her past contact with the family that all of the children in the household were given defined chores; she marveled at how the woman could accomplish getting teenagers to do chores without apparent fussing and arguing.  None of the children ever complained about being abused, and Amy had believed the woman accomplished the feat by showing true love and affection for each child, thus providing the child with attention they may rarely have been shown in their previous family situations. 
 
“All is neat as ever, Hazel,” Amy said, using Mrs. Harrison’s first name as had been her custom when she handled the family. 
 
“The kids have pitched in well,” she replied.  “These boys are especially helpful.  They seem to enjoy housework better than that crop of girls I had before.” 
 
“Are the boys in their rooms now?” Amy asked.  They had timed their visit for late afternoon when they expected the boys would be home from school. 
 
“Yes Amy.  I guess you want to see them in their rooms.  Go ahead, they’re there,” Mrs. Harrison said.  The woman spoke in a cold, matter-of-fact manner that surprised Amy, considering how well the two had gotten along when she was assigned to the family. 
 
Latesha visited Jefferson, while Amy checked on the other two. 
 
***** 
“We couldn’t find anything out of line during our visit, Marcus,” Amy said the next morning.  She summoned him to her office to discuss the Harrison situation with Latesha sitting in.  Even though Marcus was officially off the case now, Amy felt his earlier ability to connect with Jefferson was valuable in the discussion.  Besides, she knew he cared about the boy and had worries about the setup.  
 
“I still feel weird about it though,” Latesha commented.  “Those boys were just too good; they had all the right answers, but they said them as if they were robots.” 
 
Amy nodded.  “I got the same feeling, like they had been coached.  And they were all dressed so neatly and they were all dutifully doing their homework. And Melody was very cooperative, not at all like most sixteen-year-old girls.” 
 
“It was so unreal,” Latesha added. 
 
“How was Jefferson?” Marcus asked. 
 
“He’s back in school, but he still has some pain in the kidney area and he gets dizzy spells,” Latesha began.  “He’s been excused from any physical activity, like the freshman gym class.” 
 
“Was he happier?” 
 
“No, Marcus.  He’s a pretty unhappy child.  He only grunted when he answered me, but he kept insisting everything was OK. He said he likes the Harrisons and that he enjoys his chores there.  He does all the clothes washing and Mrs. Harrison has taught him how to sew.” 
 
“The poor kid,” Marcus said, realizing that the boy must still be scared.  Perhaps, he thought, the boy relished doing housework since it kept him safe at home. 
 
“And he refused to say anything more about the incident,” Latesha continued.  “He keeps saying he was unconscious, but I think he’s hiding something.  He’s afraid of something.” 
 
“It must have been traumatic for him.  It’d be natural for him to not want to talk about it,” Amy commented.  
 
“The one thing he seemed enthused about was his sewing,” Latesha added.  “He brightened up a little when he said he was learning how to make a dress.  He showed me the pattern for it.” 
 
“It’s great he’s found something to interest him,” Marcus said. 
 
“Dress-making?” Latesha asked.  “Isn’t that a strange thing for a boy to be excited about?” 
 
“No, I don’t think so,” Marcus said.  “Why can’t a boy learn to sew together a dress?” 
 
Amy looked at Marcus and offered a discreet wink.