Stolen Innocence

By Melodie Thomas

Edited by Holly Hart

Chapter 2

The dashboard clock in Erik Bergstein’s car showed a few minutes before eleven pm as he sat at a red light about five blocks from his home. Even though it was a school night, and she shouldn’t be, he knew that Janet would be sitting up waiting for him to get home. Try as he might, he never could convince her to go to bed without seeing him first. At the same time, there was a good feeling to that as well.

The last three hours of the day have been very interesting, and raised far more questions than were answered. Roger Clinefelt showed up at Earl James’ house, with one of his officers, about fifteen minutes after Erik had call him, and all three enjoyed a cup of coffee with Mr. James while hearing the story of the fights and issues that had occurred next door at the Larson house. Both Erik and Roger were very interested in the fact that Mr. James had seen police cars in front of the Larson house weekly for a fair number of months.

Mr. James’ eye witness account was enough to have Craig Wilson arrested for Felony Assault on a Minor and Reckless Discharge of a Firearm. Though the second charge was only a misdemeanor, both were adequate to have Mr. Wilson incarcerated, at least until he saw the Magistrate for a preliminary and bail hearing. Mr. Wilson did not take kindly to being formally arrested and kept insisting that Officers Coulson and Salina do something about it, a behavior that both Erik and Roger found interesting as well.

A number of years ago, GPS tracking devices had been installed in all of the patrol cars in Phoenix at the insistence of the local Police Officers Union. However, the same union argued that the information collected from the tracking devices could only be used in an emergency to locate officers that may be in trouble. The use of the tracking data for any other purpose needed to be ratified by the Union representative as they had a major concern that city officials and senior police officers would use that information as a basis for disciplinary action by monitoring and individual officer’s location at all times. In other words, the Union had no problem in using the technology to find the brother who may be in trouble, but did not what big brother using the information to monitor them.

The accounts by Mr. James that police cars had frequented the Larson household was enough information for Clinefelt to contact the union representative and start the haggling process over getting the GPS data for the two units in question. It took just over an hour of back and forth phone calls before an agreement was reached that the data could be pulled, but could only be searched for the address in question and only information related to that address could be used. After over an hour of debate to get permission, the actual pulling and screening of the data for the past thirty days took only a matter of minutes, the results showing that both squads have been to the Larson house on an average of once or twice per week, and stayed for a couple of hours each time. The results of the first search were enough to take the wind out of the sail for the union, who quickly agreed to let them expand the time window to the past six months.

While Roger was working on the GPS data, Erik had another idea and had Shelly Needles pull the nine one one tape and compare the timestamp of when Mr. James said the first officer arrived on scene to when police dispatch tagged Officer Paulsen as initial responder. The result showed there was a ten minute time lag between the arrivals in which, the victim lie bleeding on the living room floor and no ambulance was called. All of this information in the hands of the Internal Affairs people was leading to some very hard questions for Officer Coulson and Officer Salina. However, since neither of them could be questioned without a union representative present if they wished, and they did wish, both were placed on administrative leave and told to report to the Internal Affairs Division office at ten am the next morning, with their union representatives.

Through all of this, the one thing that was bothering Erik the most, as he pulled into the driveway of his house, was they had been unable to find the boy, Charley. There was a scared fourteen year old boy running around somewhere in the city, and no one could find him.

Erik put his car in park and shut off the engine, sitting there looking at the light coming through his living room curtains, where he knew his sixteen year old daughter was waiting for him, questioning himself if he had done enough. Had that been his daughter out there, he would not have rested until he tore the town apart trying to find her. Yet, here he was about to go home while someone else’s child was lost in the same city. That feeling was not sitting well with him.

As he entered the front door he spotted the familiar image of the coffee table turned so it was facing the TV and his daughter sitting on the floor using it as a desk for her homework while watching the news.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” Erik asked as he closed the door.

“Why aren’t you home?” his daughter answered without turning around.

Erik grunted and smiled as that was their standard greeting, “New case came up late in the day,” he answered as he walked to the kitchen counter to unload his pockets.

“The Rosewood shooting?” Janet asked, still writing on her paper.

“How did you know about that?”

Janet just raised her arm and pointed at the television. “Did they find the boy yet?” she asked.

Erik felt his shoulders slump as he signed, “No, not yet.”

Janet set her pen down and turned to look at her dad. Erik’s ex wife was beautiful, but his daughter was going to rival her. With Janet’s long darkish red-brown hair, green eyes and just enough freckles to give her that down home look, she was going to be a heart breaker someday, someday too soon, according to Erik’s way of thinking.

“I can ride around with you if you want to go look some more.” Janet said with real concern in her voice. Even though she was only sixteen, she knew her dad pretty good, and knew he was hurting right now. He may look like the tough, hard policeman, but he had a very sensitive side to victims and children.

“I am tempted, Kiddo, but I don’t know where to look that we don’t already have people looking.”

Janet rose to her feet from her cross legged position in one graceful movement and walked to her dad, kissing him lightly on the cheek, before going into the kitchen. “Have you eaten?” she asked.

“I had a power bar a few hours ago.” Erik answered with a slight smile.

“In other words, no.” Janet opened the oven and grabbed the hot pads. “I kept the casserole hot if you want some.”

Erik did not answer as he already knew he was going to have some one way or the other. Janet pulled a plate from the cupboard, dished up the casserole and delivered it, with the utensils and napkins to the breakfast bar that her dad was sitting at.

“Smells good.” Erik said picking up his fork.

“It should. It is your recipe, I just improved it.” Janet said with a smile while she filled a glass of water for him.

“So, was this a husband/wife thing that got out of hand?” Janet asked, setting the water glass in front of her dad.

Erik shook his head as he swallowed, “No, boyfriend. Husband died in a car accident a few years ago.”

“Oh, even worse, has to be hard to bring in a replacement parent. Bet they were fighting over the boy.”

Erik looked as his daughter for a few minutes. “Why would you say that?”

Janet shrugged, “Just thinking about us, if you brought a new woman home. Just been you and me forever, and trying to put someone else in the family would be a challenge. However, that is not to say I don’t wish I had a mom now and then.”

“You do have a mom.”

Janet made a show of rolling of her eyes, “No, I have a mother, not a mom, and if you remember correctly, I can’t call her ‘mom’ or ‘mother’ because it would be too embarrassing. I have to call her Cheryl. No, I guess I have always been worried that you would find someone new and we would have to go through the battle of integration here.”

“Kiddo, I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that arena.”

“Yeah, I know, and that bothers me just about as much. You need someone in your life, besides me and work.”

Erik paused again, looking at Janet, “Now I am getting confused, first you are worried that I will find someone, and then you are worried that I haven’t. You are confusing me.”

Janet laughed as she walked into the living room and gathered her books, “I know, I am a female and confusing males is my job. I am also going to bed now,” she said kissing her father on the cheek, “I love you Dad, goodnight.”

Erik chuckled as she walked by, “Love you too, Princess, sleep well.”

Erik silently finished his supper and rinsed the plate while pondering what his daughter was saying. Yes, he missed having someone in his life, but also knew there was more truth to what Janet was saying than she probably realized. Though there were plenty of cases of domestic issues between biological parents, the majority of the cases that he has had to deal with in his career involved step-parents, or boyfriend/girlfriend relationships. Bringing someone new into an existing family was hard, even when everyone got along. He loved his relationship with his daughter, though more and more she had been taking on the role of housewife and not the role of teenage daughter, and he was not sure that was fair to her.

He walked past Janet’s bedroom door on the way to his own room and could hear the soft water sounds of the tape she liked to play at night, her white noise as she called it. He entered his own room with a smile and dropped on his bed without undressing. With his hands folded behind his head he stared at the dark ceiling. ‘Where are you Charley Larson’ was the last through in his mind before sleep took over.

*****

Charley swatted at the fly that was buzzing around his nose for the third time as he fought his way out of sleep. As he opened his eyes, three things dawned on him all at the same time, the bus was not moving, there was no one on board and it was getting really hot. Sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he saw that the bus was parked in a lot surrounded by a other buses, and since the bus was not running neither was the air-conditioning and the inside was starting to feel like an oven. Terrified that he may have missed his connection, Charley jumped to his feet and ran to the front of the bus. It took a few minutes to figure out how to get the door open as he stepped out into the hot morning sun.

Stepping around the front of the bus, Charley found that he was in a large fenced, gravel parking area with a dozen or more similar buses. He started wandering around the buses, attempting to find the bus terminal when he heard someone yelling at him.

“Hey, you, kid, what are you doing in here?” Charley saw a portly man with grayish hair in the security guard uniform walking towards him.

“I am trying to find the bus terminal for my connection.” Charley responded.

“Oh, so this is some kind of joke,” the guard said as he pulled a can of spray out of his holster.

“No sir, I just came in on the bus from Phoenix and need to find my connection.” Charley replied.

“Kid, I don’t know what kind of drugs you’re on, or where you think you are, but I will give you thirty seconds to get the hell out of here before I spray you and call the cops.” The man said as he pointed the can at Charley.

“But, sir, I… “

“Twenty seconds, now run you little shit, before I have to do this the hard way.”

Charley turned and ran down the row of buses to get away from the guard. He still had no idea which way he was suppose to go, but at least thought he could stay out of range of the spray. Charley rounded the end of the row of buses and saw the guard cutting through the row to get in front of him. At the same time, he saw a gate at the far end of the buses and realized he had run the wrong way, but now had the guard between him and the gate. Charley took off running for the gate just as the guard stepped out in front of him, three buses down. Charley made a hard left turn between two of buses and raced for the back of the buses before turning again in the direction of the gate. The guard was not able to move fast enough to get to the end of the row of buses before Charley passed him and made a beeline for the gate. As Charley reached the gate, he had a choice to make. Turning right would have him running down the long side of the fence surrounding the lot. Turning left headed into an alley way away from the lot. Charley hit the gate and turned left, leaving the lot behind.

As Charley realized the guard was not following him, he slowed to a walk and started pondering his two most immediate problems. First, he had no idea where he was. As he ran through the bus lot, he kept looking for something that looked like a bus terminal, but did not see anything. Somehow, he had remained asleep and hidden on the bus after it was unloaded and taken to a storage lot. The second problem was he was starving as he had last eaten, with the exception of some jerky, was diner with his mom the night before. Then, without warning, the thought of his mom brought the whole situation crashing back down on him. He was alone and lost.

Charley fought to control his fears and emotions as he reached a main street with other people walking the sidewalks. To his left appeared to be an over pass of a main highway and probably his best chance to find some signs telling him where he was. Also, there might be a restaurant somewhere along that street. As he approached the main street his confusion became even greater as he saw signs for Nevada State route 582 and street direction indicators for East Las Vegas. Realization started setting in even more as he walked along the main road and saw signs ahead for the Longhorn Casino, the Nevada Palace and further up the road he could see a bigger sign that read Sam’s Town Hotel and Gambling Hall. Charley had no idea how he got here but the obvious conclusion was he was in Las Vegas.

Charley was so awe struck by where he was, he continued to walk along the main highway looking at the sights until he was across the road from Sam’s Town. He saw a sign for TGI Friday’s, which reminded him how hungry he was. Crossing the highway and making his way to TGI Friday’s, Charley was disappointed to see it was closed as it was still fairly early in the morning. Charley saw that the coffee shop in the casino was open, so he opened the door and headed that direction.

“Excuse me, miss,” a security guard said, stepping in his way, “but you can’t come in here.”

“I am not a ‘miss’, and I just want to go the coffee shop.” Charley responded.

The security guard smiled, “My apologies, sir, but you can’t come in here. If you go back out and around the side of the building there is another entrance to the coffee shop that does not pass through the casino.”

Charley followed the directions and, few minutes later, was seated at a booth in the coffee shop. Charley sipped on some water while he looked through the menu. He paused for a moment and pulled his money bag out of his pocket and did a quick count.

‘Only twenty six dollars and change left, at these prices I can eat a couple of times and then I will be broke.’ Charley thought to himself. ‘But I have to eat, so I will figure out how to get more later.’

Charley ordered a cheese omelet and an orange juice and while waiting pondered through the options of what he had to do. He had no idea where the bus terminal was, or if the ticket that he had would get him back on a bus. He came to the wrong place, but the bus company would probably think that was his own fault for getting on the wrong bus. After breakfast, he was only going to have about fifteen dollars left and that was barely enough to feed him two more times, let along get a bus ticket. It became pretty clear to him that he was going to need to find work some place to get the money to get a ticket to his Grandma’s house. He also needed to find the bus terminal so he could find out how much he needed.

A few minutes later the waitress returned with his food.

“Excuse me,” Charley said, “but is there somewhere I can get a street map?”

“Sure, Hon,” the waitress responded, “We sell them here for a dollar fifty, I will bring you one.”

The waitress returned with the map and while Charley ate his omelet, he studied the map to find the Greyhound Bus terminal. He found it a few minutes later and realized that he just needed to keep walking down the same street he was on and he would come pretty close to it in downtown Las Vegas. A rough measurement from the map scale showed that he had about a seven mile walk ahead of him.

Charley finished his breakfast and then realized he was supposed to leave a tip for the waitress as well, he saw people at the other tables doing it. After leaving two dollars for a tip and paying for the map, Charley sighed as he put his remaining twelve dollars in his pocket and started his walk down boulder Highway, looking for the grey hound bus terminal.

*****

At seven thirty in the morning, Erik was in his office going through the evidence collected by the crime lab at the Rosewood shooting before going to the hospital to interview the victim. A victim he knew could also be a suspect in other crimes. The evidence team found a significant amount of drugs and drug paraphernalia in the house. Cocaine, amphetamines, and ecstasy were found in the master bedroom and bathroom. Some of the quantities were small, but some were large enough to imply dealing. Also, the blood report back from the hospital showed that Mrs. Larson had all three in her blood, so she was also a user, as well as a possible dealer, as well as a victim of domestic assault. The lines were rarely very clear.

Reports from the interview team that were working with Craig Wilson revealed little useful information. He was claiming self defense, said Larson came at him with a knife and he had to defend himself. He said he was afraid the boy, Charley, was going to attack him too so he shot at him out of fear. Based on advice of his attorney, Wilson admitted he was wrong to ‘shoot at the kid’ but he was panicked and frightened. Wilson claimed to know nothing about the drugs except that Cindy Larson was a user and an alcoholic and was always threatening him. Erik was looking forward to his chance to talk to Wilson, the conversation would not be much fun. The interview teams just let the person tell the story the way they want to tell it, no challenges, and no questions. When the detectives turn came it would be a different discussion.

At nine o’clock, Erik was standing outside a hospital room looking at the woman in side through a window. In his hand was a family picture that appeared to be taken a few years ago, before the father died. Even Erik had to admit they were a beautiful family. The father was a handsome man with sandy brown hair and a big smile. Sitting in a chair in front of him was a beautiful blonde woman with sparkling blue eyes and florescent smile. Standing next to the woman was a young boy with the same blond hair and blue eyes. It was an incredible picture.

However, Erik was having a very hard time making the connection between the beautiful woman in the photograph and the woman he was looking at through the window. The woman in the hospital bed had the same blonde hair, but it was a matted mess, sunken eyes, and pale skin, there was nothing about her that resembled the picture. She was lying in the bed, partially sitting up, with a drain tube in her right side and an IV on her right arm. Her left hand was free and held a tissue that she occasionally brought up to her eyes.

Erik was being accompanied this morning by a female officer in uniform. One thing he had learned over the years, he never interview a female suspect or victim without another female being present. He had never had an issue with it, and did not intend to start. He opened the door and let the female officer enter first and then followed.

“Mrs. Larson, I am Erik Bergstein from the Special victims’ unit, I would like to talk to you if I can.” Erik said as he slowly approached the foot of the bed.

“Where is my son? Where is Charley?” Cindy Larson asked, without taking her eyes off of the ceiling.

“We don’t know yet, we have not found him. But, I am hoping you can help me with that.”

“Oh God, what have I done to my Charley?” Cindy whined, bringing the tissue back to her eyes.

“Mrs. Larson, can you tell me the last thing you remember?” Erik asked softly, trying to bring her attention to him.

Cindy lifted her head and looked at Erik for the first time, “I remember that bastard shooting me.”

“Did you threaten him in anyway? Was he defending himself?”

Cindy looked Erik straight in the eye, “After he told me what he had done to my Charley, I was going to kill him, so I guess you can say I was threatening him.”

“What do you mean, what he did to Charley?”

“Touched him, sexually,” Cindy responded with tears forming in her eyes again.

“You are telling me that Craig Wilson was sexually abusing your son?” Erik asked softly.

“Craig and probably a few of his friends,” Cindy answered through her tears.

Erik thought for a moment, “Okay, I really have a lot more questions about that and about the drugs and video tapes we found in the house, but,” Erik watched Cindy Larson slump heavily as the mention of the tapes, “first I would really like to see what we can do to find Charley. Do you have any idea where he may have gone?”

Cindy just softly shook her head while looking at her hands.

“Do you have any friends or family in the area that he may try to contact?” Erik continued to probe softly.

Again Cindy shook her head, “No, the only real friend that Charley would have gone to is Earl James, our next door neighbor. We have no family in the area. My parents live in Florida and they are not that close to us.”

“What about your husband’s family?”

“Bob’s mother lived in San Bernardino, but she passed away about a year ago.” Cindy was quiet for a moment then looked up at Erik, “But, I never told Charley that she had passed away.”

“What do you mean, you never told Charley?”

“Just that,” Cindy held eye contact with Erik, “he had to deal with enough death when my husband left us. I did not see any value in letting him know that his grandma was gone too. Do you think it is possible he would try to go to San Bernardino to find his grandma?”

Erik pondered the question, “it is possible, we really don’t know what Charley saw yesterday. The evidence seems to indicate that Wilson shot you then fired three shots at Charley as he ran a way.”

Cindy Larson almost lurched up in her bed, “He shot at Charley?” her voice getting louder.

Erik held his hands up in a ‘calm down’ signal, “The evidence shows Wilson fired three shots at someone running. The only person we know of that was there, besides you, was Charley. However, there was no indication that he was wounded.”

“I am going to kill that son of a bitch!” Cindy spat through clenched teeth.

Erik continued, ignoring the comment, “We have to assume that Charley knew you had been shot, might even think you are dead, so where would he go if he had no one left and was desperate and scared. Did he have any money?”

Cindy Larson nodded her head slowly, teeth still clenched. “I don’t know how much, but he had some savings he collected from doing chores for a few of the neighbors.”

Erik checked his watch; he needed to be leaving if he was going to get to the Internal Affairs office in time for the interview of the two patrol officers. “Okay, Mrs. Larson, I will go get a search started at the bus and train stations to see if Charley had been seen there. I have a lot more questions for you so I will be back.

“I need you to know that we do not fully understand your involvement in the things going on in that house and there are a few criminal charges that are possible. Until the doctors release you, you can consider yourself in protective custody and there will be an officer outside your door. Do you understand?”

Cindy nodded as Erik stood to leave, “Detective,” Cindy said softly, “I don’t care what you think of me or what you think I am guilty of, but please find my son.”

“I will do my best, Mrs. Larson, I will do my best.”

*****

Charley had found the Greyhound bus terminal and finally located someone that would talk with him, as most just brushed him off as a nuisance. After the third person he tried to talk to, he was led to a small office where an elderly lady with short grey hair sat at a desk.

“What can I help you with?” the lady greeted him with a smile.

“I think I somehow got on the wrong bus yesterday. I was supposed to be going to San Bernardino but ended up here instead.” Charley answered taking a seat by her desk.

“Okay, do you have the receipt and ticket stub you were given?” she asked with a look of doubt in her eyes.

Charley reached into his pack and pulled out the rest of the papers the wino had given him the night before, “I have these.” He said handing them over to the lady.

The lady looked through the papers, “Well, this is a receipt for a one way ticket from Phoenix to Las Vegas, so I don’t see how you got on the wrong bus.”

The declaration startled Charley as he looked at the receipt for the first time. He could not help the hollow feeling inside his stomach when he saw the receipt was for a fifty dollar ticket to Las Vegas. The wino had got him a ticket alright, but the cheapest ticket to the wrong place and kept the extra ten dollars.

“Besides,” the lady continued, this ticket is for someone named Greg Stone. Didn’t you just introduce yourself and Charley Larson? The driver’s license is definitely a forgery as well. I think we have some hi-jinks going on here, don’t we young man?”

Charley just stared with his mouth open, unable to grasp everything she had said or he had just read. The wino ripped him off buying the wrong ticket and now here he was trying to tell the bus company to give him a new ticket with a fake driver’s licenses and no way to prove what was real.

“I will tell you what, let’s have you take a seat out in the waiting area while to try to sort all of this out,” she said with a smile, but a look in her eye that Charley did not like.

The lady escorted Charley out to a seat on the waiting bench, leaving him there while she went to one of the ticket windows. She talked to the person behind the ticket window and Charley could see that both of the glanced at him regularly. The guy behind the ticket window then picked up the phone and started to place a call. In that instant Charley knew they were calling the police and those were the last people he wanted to see. The police would return him to Phoenix and the police there, who would kill him.

Charley fought to control the panic that was building in him. He had to get out of here and he had to do it quickly. Looking around the ticketing area, Charley spotted the double sided map board that was standing near the center of the room, about half way to the door. As casually as he could, Charley stood up with his pack and walked over to the map board. As soon as he moved he saw the gray haired lady turn to watch him. When he stopped at the map board and pretended to be studying the maps, she watched him for a moment and then turned her attention back to the ticket counter. The moment she turned her head, Charley made a break for the door. He just reached the door when he heard the lady shout for him to stop, but pushed through the door, made a hard right turn and took off as fast as he could.

Charley ran down a couple of streets until he found a Starbucks coffee shop and ducked inside. He bought a bottle of water and a small pastry, taking a seat by the window so he could watch to see if anyone was following him. After about thirty minutes, Charley pulled out his street map. It was getting late in the afternoon and he was starting to wonder where he could spend the night. His first thought was to find a park, or something similar, where he could have grass and maybe trees to hide in.

It was well after dark by the time Charley stumbled upon the park he had found on the map. Most of the park area was fenced and as he walked around the outer edge, looking for a way to get in, he found a spot that the fence had been cut and pushed aside. The opening was large enough for him to squeeze through and the trees on the other side were inviting.

Squeezing through the gap in the fence, Charley slipped into the trees and started looking for a place to call home for the night. The ground was a mixture of rocks and sand and was pretty wet in most places and he could find nothing inviting. Then something in one of the trees caught his attention, a small platform built in the tree limbs about twenty feet off of the ground. Looking around the tree, he found some metal steps that had been screwed into the tree, appearing as a means to reach the platform. Slowly Charley climbed the metal steps towards the platform. Peering over the edge of the platform, Charley found nothing but a flat piece of wood attached to the tree with wooden supports. Moving carefully, Charley first slid his pack onto the platform and then himself behind it. The platform seemed to be plenty strong to hold him, so he felt this was a good spot to spend the night.

Charley leaned back against the tree trunk and pulled his jacket around his shoulders as the night air was starting to pick up a chill. A quick inventory revealed that he had a bottle of water, a half a bag of Jerky and seven dollars left to his name. For the moment, everything seemed to be okay, but he knew that was not going to last. He started snacking on some of his jerky while looking at the bright hue of the lights on the horizon caused by the famous Las Vegas strip. With all of that money in this town, there had to be a way for him to get enough to get a bus ticket to his Grandma’s place.

The thought of his grandma made him think of his mom, and how he hoped she was with his dad and they were happy together again. How he missed both of them, but he was sure his dad would not understand why he did not help his mom, why he ran like a coward. He felt the tears start forming in his eyes again as he looked down at his hands. He could hear Craig’s voice again, “might as well put a pair of tits on him, he sure isn’t much of a man”. Charley pulled his jacket tighter around him as a slight breeze pushed the chill deeper into him.

*****
Erik was a firm believer in the concept that sometimes smart people do stupid things. He also believed that sometimes these same smart people would realize they did something stupid and try to correct the situation. Both of these beliefs were re-affirmed the day before when Raul Salina, under questioning from the Internal Affairs Department, decided he had been stupid enough and continuing to be stupid was only going to make things worse for himself. Officer Salina not only admitted to his involvement in the Wilson/Larson case, but also implicated the involvement of Officer Joe Coulson, and named a third Officer involved, Jack Tallsman.

Officer Salina told the story of how the three police officers had met Craig Wilson at a hockey game, and how, during the rounds of beers following the game, was bragging about his knockout girlfriend, that he was prostituting out to friends and coworkers for various considerations and money. When all three officers, under the influence of a few beers, thought this sounded like something fun, Wilson struck a deal with them. If his three new friends were to be able to point him in the direction of a place he could get good recreational drugs, at a fair price and without worry on Law Enforcement involvement, then he would make sure they could ‘get their rocks off’ each week with a beautiful blonde willing to do anything to please them.

In the days that followed, Wilson provided a picture and the Officers talked it over and decided that it could be fun for awhile. Since they were not actually buying any drugs, or involved in any drug transactions, they would not really be breaking the law. All they would do is to tell Wilson a name of someone they would recommend he talk to and whatever transpired between them would be none of their business. However, all three agreed they needed to see what Wilson could deliver to them before they were willing to make any introductions.

When questioned about the young boy, Charley, Salina stated they did not know there was a minor in the house until their first visit. Though it bothered Salina that a child was in the area, he quickly got caught up in the actions and forgot it, as the boy was never seen. Salina did say that a few weeks after their initial visit, Wilson did offer the boy’s services for additional consideration. Salina swore that he never touched the boy or had anything to do with him, but did think that Coulson and Tallsman did.

Erik’s half eaten sandwich was still lying on his desk as he read through the transcripts again. The same anger that he felt yesterday still burning and growing in is gut. How could anyone do that to a child and how could a mother put her child in that position. Answers to that second question he planned to get in a couple of hours when he had another interview with Cindy Larson. Child Protective Services had become involved in the case the afternoon before, and were already working on a petition to the court to have Charley Larson named a ward of the state and removed from his mother custody. Though Erik did not disagree with that direction based on what he currently knew, he did think that finding Charley Larson should be a higher priority. Apparently, he was the only one that thought that.

An hour later, as he entered Cindy Larson’s hospital room, Erik encountered a slender thirty something brunette woman and a fifty something over weight balding gentleman entering the room just ahead of him.

“Mrs. Larson,” Erik heard the thirty something woman say as he entered the room, “I am Mrs. Brewer and this is Mr. Parks, we are from Child Services. This is a court order that you surrender custody of the minor Charley Larson to us immediately.”

“You are taking away my son?” Cindy Larson responded with a surprised expression.

“Under the circumstances, I don’t think you should be surprised,” Mrs. Brewer pressed. “Now if you will good enough to tell us where to collect him or will we need to get the police involved?”

Though Cindy Larson was not that high on Erik’s fan club list, he did not like the way she was being battered by people that obviously had no idea what was going on in this case. “Excuse me, Mrs. Brewer,” Erik interrupted, “I am Bergstein, Special Victims.”

“Oh, Detective, “Brewer responded with a surprised look, “I am glad to see you. Would you please explain to Mrs. Larson that she needs to surrender her son immediately?”

Erik ignored the court order that Brewer was trying to hand him, “Mrs. Brewer, have you read the case file for Mrs. Larson?”

“No, Detective, I have not. I just came from court getting this order issued. Colleting of the child is taking higher priority.”

Erik smiled, “Well, if you would have taken just a few minutes to get your facts, you would see that no one seems to know where Charley Larson is at the moment because he ran away during the shooting and we have been unable to find him.”

Brewer’s eyes opened wide in surprise, “You mean no one knows where this poor child is?”

“That does seem to be a fact at the moment.”

“Well, then, Detective, I would think your priority should be out there trying to find the poor child, and when you do, be sure to turn him over to our custody.”

“Thank you for the input and we will be sure to do just that,” He chuckled as Mrs. Brewer and her silent side kick stomped their way out of the room.

“Thank you,” Cindy whispered from the bed.

“Oh, don’t thank me yet,” Erik said with a stern look, “Alcohol, drugs, sex orgies and sexual abuse. Is there anything else you put your son through?”

Cindy Larson just looked down at her hands, but Erik could see the tears forming from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t know what to say.” She whispered.

“I am not sure what you can say either, but I am going to try to have the patience to let you tell me the story of how you went from this,” laying a copy of the older family picture on the bed, “to the sorry state you seem to be in today.”

Cindy picked up the picture with her left hand, looked at it for moment and then held it to her chest and started sobbing. Though Erik had to maintain the hard exterior of a cop, he hated to see anyone hurting, and Cindy Larson was hurting. His natural instinct was to attempt to sooth or be supportive, and not taking any action while she cried was hard for him to do.

“Anytime you are ready Mrs. Larson,” he said, looking down at his own notes to avoid looking at her.

“It started with Bob’s death,” Cindy started to get her tears under control. “I could not deal with it; I could not get past it. Some lady friends invited me out on a Friday night about six months afterwards, telling me it would do me good to go out, be around people. They were right, I got a sitter for Charley and joined them and had fun, laughed, danced, felt like I had some life back in me.

“But after it was over, things were back to the same feeling of loss and loneliness. Add to that the financial pressure of getting by on what life insurance Bob had. I never went to college, Detective; I was always Bob’s home base, his support. Now that he was gone, I could not find work, I didn’t have any training and yet I had a son to raise and care for. I needed a release, and going out with the girls gave me one. Since the girls could not go out all the time, the next time I decided to go alone. The results were different, but the same. I had a great time. I don’t know if it was the drink, the music or the attention I was getting, but it felt great. I felt I could survive another week.

“I guess it was bound to happen, but one night I met a man that I hit it off with. We danced, drank, sang along with the band and just had a great time. I didn’t want to go home alone; I needed someone to hold me. So, at the end of the night I took him back to my place. Charley was asleep and the man left before morning so I didn’t think anything was hurt. But one man lead to another that lead to another. I was as addicted to the attention as I was to night life. One night a guy offered me two hundred and fifty dollars if I would go to bed with him. At first I was angry, I mean, what kind of woman does he think I am? Then I started thinking about what I could do with the extra money, and the more I thought about it the more the idea seemed appealing, so I gave in and a new sin was born.”

Cindy paused, trying to reach for a box of tissues that was just out of reach. Erik stood and delivered them to her.

“Thank you. Anyway, I started going out more often, touring the bars for, I guess you would say customers. I really did not find it difficult at all. Many men were eager to be with me and I felt good. Then I met Craig. Craig was tall and strong and good looking. He knew I was hustling, but he convinced me to take some time with him. He even paid me, but we did not have sex, just went out. Then one day he stayed at my place and did not leave, just kind of moved in. I really didn’t plan it, but he made the house feel happy again and he seemed to get along with Charley, so I just let things go. Craig started paying the bills and I didn’t need to ‘work’ any more. My life seemed like it was making a turn for the better.

“Craig still liked to party and he and I would go out every week and tear up the town. He was always talking me into trying new things. Though I never thought I would, Craig introduced me to Cocaine and said it would make the party that much more fun. I did it because he asked me to. One night we were at home, Charley had gone to bed, and we had both done a line of coke. I was feeling really good when Craig brought me a fresh drink. The next thing I remembered was waking up the next morning, sore, naked and in a very messy and dirty bed. Craig set up his laptop and showed me a video. The video was me having sex with four guys, including Craig. I don’t remember any of it, but there it was on the video.”

Cindy’s tears started flowing heavily again, “Craig told me that he owned me now and if I did not do what he wanted, that video would end up at Child Services and they would take my Charley away from me. He started selling me to friends and coworkers for group sex. I was feed drugs to the point I needed them and he would control me that way. He also told me unless I wanted the same thing to happen to Charley, I would not cause him trouble.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?” Erik asked softly, feeling some sympathy building for the tormented woman.

“I threatened too and the next night Craig came home with three police officers,” Cindy was crying harder, “and forced me to service them. Unlike other nights, he did not give me any drugs so I would be fully aware of what was happening. So now who was I going to call? The police were part of Craig’s group too, and he kept threatening Charley.”

“Did Craig video all of your sessions?”

Cindy wiped her eyes, “I don’t know about all, but he did many. I know he taped one with a couple of the cops, he called it his insurance policy with the police.”

Erik was staring at his note pad trying to understand everything he had been told. Cindy Larson was not guilt free through this ordeal, but she was also a victim so his heart did reach for her. There were a number of things here that she would need to answer for, but no greater punishment could be worse than the punishment she was giving herself.

“Are they really going to take my son away from me?” Cindy asked through her tears.

Erik nodded his head, “I think if you think about it you can understand why. That does not make it easier to deal with, but you did create an unhealthy environment for him. You are guilty of drug use and having drug paraphernalia around a minor.”

“What is going to happen to me?”

“I don’t know that will be up to the prosecutor’s office. Do you happen to know where Craig kept his video tapes? “

“On his laptop, but I am not sure where he kept that. I looked for it around the house a few times but could never find it.”

Erik left Cindy’s hospital room and headed back to his office. He had just reached his car when his cell phone rang. The call ID showed Shelly Needles.

“Hello, talk to me Shell.” Erik answered is phone.

“Boss, I think we have our first break on finding that Larson kid.”

“Oh, what is that?” Erik asked climbing into his car.

“We reviewed the terminal tapes from Greyhound. At eleven PM of the night of the shooting, we have the image of a long blond haired minor trying to buy a ticket. Looks like our boy.”

“Outstanding, I am on my way.”