Covert Exposure (9 page)

Shannon shook her head. “I don’t know. They
didn’t say. They saw me standing here and stopped talking.”

“Where did they go?” Spinelli asked as he
walked briskly toward the edge of the second floor balcony so he
could look down on the first floor of the mall. Sure enough, he saw
the two elves. The muscleman at the Greek restaurant lifted the
metal security gate and let the boys pass through. Spinelli quickly
stepped back from the edge of the balcony to avoid being seen by
the muscle but when he did so he bumped into Shannon. He hit her so
hard she started to fall backwards. He reached out, grabbed her arm
just above her elbow, and pulled her tightly to him to steady
her.

“I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

Spinelli just stood there staring down into
her big emerald green eyes, tightly gripping her arm. He tried to
pull his gaze from hers but couldn’t. He tried to free his hand
from her arm but couldn’t—it felt paralyzed. He debated kissing
her. She looked like she wanted to be kissed but he couldn’t dip
his head. His mind willed his extremities to move but they
wouldn’t. He never in his entire life felt so tightly wound as he
did right now. He feared that the slightest move would cause him to
unravel completely.

“You’re still on my foot,” Shannon whispered,
knocking Spinelli out of his trance.

“What?”

“My foot, you’re standing on my foot.”

Spinelli took a step back. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“We better get going,” Spinelli said as he
turned and led her toward the parking ramp.

Spinelli opened the truck door for Shannon.
Before climbing in she spun to face him. She fixed her warm
green-eyed gaze on him. She had the most beautiful eyes.

I have to ask, “What did Lesha whisper to
you?”

Spinelli thought about Lesha’s Christmas
wish. His body quivered. Goose bumps lined his arms. He cleared his
throat. “She asked for a new mom and dad for her, and her brother
and sister then maybe Darius wouldn’t be scared and cry all the
time.” Spinelli paused. It was harder than he thought it would be
to actually say the words. “She asked for a mom like you or the new
foster mom, a mom that would love them and take care of them.” His
heartbeat quickened. Though it was only thirty degrees outside his
cheeks were on fire. His heart ached.

Shannon placed her hand over her chest. Her
eyes swam with tears. She lifted her hand to his cheek. “Those poor
kids, they deserve so much more. No child deserves to live that
way.”

She held his gaze. The intensity of her stare
frightened him. He knew she knew. Somehow she’d found out about his
childhood. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. His comfort level
plummeted. He needed to end this conversation. He hit the remote
start button on his key fob. The engine roared.

Silence filled the vehicle during the drive
back to Shannon’s apartment. No matter how hard he tried, he
couldn’t clear his mind long enough to speak one sentence. When he
wasn’t thinking about Shannon, and the fact she knew his dirty
little secret, thoughts of Lesha, and her Christmas wish, consumed
him.

He parked his truck, slid out, scooted over
to the passenger side door, and opened it for Shannon. He walked
her to the front door and watched as she keyed in the numeric pass
code. The door buzzed and Spinelli pushed it open and held it for
her to pass through. He followed her to her apartment. No sooner
did she place the key in the slot the door to the apartment across
the hall from hers opened and Mrs. Finch stepped out.

“Good evening, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Finch. How are you tonight?”
Shannon asked.

“Oh, I’m good, good as it gets for a woman my
age,” Mrs. Finch replied as her lips rose upward into a wide smile.
She glanced over her shoulder. “Sister, come quick. Shannon’s home
and her hot smelling friend from last night is here again.”

Spinelli caught Shannon’s eye roll, and was
unable to refrain from smiling.

Spinelli could hear the shuffle of Mrs.
Knight’s feet seconds before she surfaced in the doorway. She
glanced up at them. “Hello, Shannon. It’s nice to see you again,
Mr. Spinelli. Please forgive my sister. She’s always been a little
nosey and loose with her tongue.”

Mrs. Knight turned her attention to her
sister. “Come, Sister, leave the kids be and let them get on with
their evening.”

Shannon unlocked her apartment door and
stepped through with Spinelli on her heels, he wanted in. He wanted
to spend more time with her. Shannon spun around. “Thank you for
seeing me home. I appreciate it. Have a good night.”

Spinelli’s mind raced. He tried to think of a
way to get her to invite him in and for the first time in his life,
not one good lady-killer line presented itself. Blank, his mind
came up blank.

“Good night, Shannon, I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Oh, I’ve got court in the morning so I won’t
need you until after lunch.”

“Okay, I’ll come up to your office after
lunch then.”

Shannon’s apartment door clicked shut.
Rejection, really?
Her rejection made him want her even
more.

Chapter
Thirteen

Shannon arrived at work at precisely 8:00
a.m. She flipped on the lights, deposited her briefcase on her
desk, and set her coffee mug on top of the file cabinet. She stowed
her purse in the file drawer, and then shrugged out of her coat and
hung it on the coat tree.

As she reached over to retrieve her coffee
mug, she paused to study the photo of her three nephews. Without
conscious thought, she pressed a light kiss to the photo with the
tip of her finger. “I miss you boys,” she whispered out loud.

Shannon pulled open the second drawer of the
file cabinet and shuffled through the alphabetical files until she
reached the Clarkson file. She pulled it out, laid it on the top of
the other files, and flipped it open. She studied the notes so she
would be prepared for the 9:00 a.m. custody hearing. She paged
through the paperwork and found a photo of the Clarkson children,
James, age six and Katrina, age three. Shannon lifted the photo
from the file and brought it closer to her eyes.
You poor
kids
. Her heart grew heavy and a sharp pain shot through it.
She closed her eyes; a tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn’t
help but feel sorry for the Clarkson children for all they were
going through at their young ages, and for all the other children
she dealt with on a daily basis going through similar
situations.

Shannon’s mind drifted away from thoughts of
the Clarkson children to Spinelli. She wondered what he was like as
a child. She wondered how many times a caseworker pulled his file
from a drawer and recommended foster care for him. The events of
Spinelli’s life gave her hope, hope for the other children in the
system. He made it out of the system and did well for himself.
Maybe the Clarkson children will as well.

The Clarkson children had been removed from
the home of their parents, Lamar and Chandra, because Lamar and
Chandra had been busted for using and selling marijuana. The kids
were placed in temporary foster care. The judge would determine
today whether or not the kids would be released back into their
parent’s custody. Shannon glanced over toward the photo of her
nephews. She picked up their photo, pressing it and the photos of
the Clarkson children to her heart.

Shannon glanced down at her watch. It read
8:50. She put the photos back in their places. She tucked the file
folder under her arm as she headed out of her office and toward the
courtroom on the first floor.

She arrived in the courtroom at five minutes
to nine. She took the aisle seat in the front row positioned
immediately behind the children’s appointed attorney. She glanced
over to see Lamar and Chandra Clarkson sitting at a table with
their appointed attorney. They looked like model citizens all
decked out in their Sunday best, much unlike their mug shots
stapled to the front of the manila file labeled ’Clarkson‘ which
rested on her lap.

Shannon stared at the mug shot of Lamar. His
matted coils of hair hung far beyond his shoulders and blocked much
of his unshaven face, and though the photo was in black and white,
she could easily make out his tie-dyed shirt. Her eyes shifted from
the photo to Lamar who sat next to his attorney. Today he wore a
maroon dress shirt and khakis. His head and face were now shaved
clean. Shannon looked down at the photo of Chandra. Her short afro
was pressed flat to her head on one side as if she’d just gotten
out of bed and the dark circles under her eyes told the same story.
She glanced over at Chandra who sat next to Lamar. She looked
pretty today. Her hair was fluffed and the Cover Girl makeup worked
its wonders. She wore dark brown dress pants and a hot pink sweater
with pearl beads accenting the neckline. Shannon stared at both
Lamar and Chandra. She hoped the visual front they were putting on
today wouldn’t fool the judge.

Shannon listened as James’ school
psychologist, Mrs. Charles, testified.

“Mrs. Charles, what is your position?” the
children’s attorney asked.

“I’m the school psychologist.”

“How long have you worked in that
position?”

“Nearly fifteen years.”

“Have you been treating James Clarkson?”

“Yes.”

“Tell us about James and his home
environment.”

Mrs. Charles glanced at Lamar and Chandra
then shifted her eyes back to the attorney, “James is a textbook
case of child neglect. He fends for himself and his little sister.
He rarely speaks and has missed nearly fifty percent of the school
days so far this year. His attendance has increased since he’s been
in foster care.”

Both attorneys asked Mrs. Charles a few more
questions then released her from the witness stand. Shannon’s turn
to testify came. Knowing her testimony would be crucial to the
judge’s decision about placing the children she paused briefly to
gather her thoughts before answering each question.

“Counseling, both family and individual, was
recommended when this case first crossed my desk. Rehab was also
recommended for Lamar and Chandra,” Shannon said from the witness
stand. “None of the recommendations were taken.”

The attorney guided the testimony along.
“You’ve been a caseworker of record on this case for nearly a
year.”

“Yes.”

“What is the current status?”

“As recently as a month ago Mr. Clarkson was
arrested for possession of drug paraphernalia. It’s been six months
for Mrs. Clarkson. And again, neither has attended the recommended
counseling or rehabilitation.”

Lamar and Chandra groaned dramatically as
Shannon spoke. Shannon refused to look at them, not wanting to give
them the time of day. She fought to keep her concentration on her
testimony, hoping not to inadvertently let the children down.
Sometimes just the simplest mistake or miss-wording would send
things awry and cause everything to spiral hopelessly out of
control.

Shannon continued to answer questions about
the children and the case file, and when the children’s attorney
finished his questioning Shannon prepared herself for the
frustration of cross-examination.

“Are you aware that Mr. Clarkson has agreed
to enter a rehabilitation program?” the Clarkson’s court appointed
attorney asked.

“Yes, I’m aware that he has agreed to enter a
rehabilitation program just like the other two times in the past
ten months when he agreed to enter but didn’t.”

“Lying bitch,” Lamar yelled as he slammed his
fists on the worn wooden table in front of him. All eyes shifted to
him. His hardened face screamed with rage.
Poor Lamar. Is he
having a tough day?
Shannon imagined part of his frustration
was not that he may lose his children, but with the loss of his
kids came the loss of his tax-payer supported income.

Judge Matthews lifted his hand and pointed
his old shriveled boney finger in Lamar’s direction. “Mr. Clarkson,
if you can’t control yourself you’ll be removed.”

Lamar grunted and stiffened his
shoulders.

“Ms. O’Hara, have either Mr. or Mrs. Clarkson
physically abused the children?” the Clarkson’s attorney
continued.

Shannon paused before she answered the
question, knowing the fate of the children rested on her shoulders.
“No, there have been no reports of physical abuse.”

“Thank you Ms. O’Hara. That is all I
have.”

“But wait, one must consider the emotional
abuse and neglect the children have suffered,” Shannon squeaked out
in a frantic voice as she glared in the direction of the Clarksons,
and was completely ignored by their lawyer.

The judge dismissed Shannon from the witness
chair. She stepped down and headed back to her seat. She feared she
had failed the children. Anger rippled through her body and as she
passed by the Clarkson’s she couldn’t help but flash an accusing
and disappointed look in their direction.

Just as Shannon passed by the attorney tables
she heard the sound of wood scraping on wood. She turned her head
in the direction of the noise to find Lamar pushing his chair back
from the table and before anyone could do anything, Lamar growled
and lunged at her. He wrapped his hands around her neck and
squeezed. His grip so tight it stifled her screams. Together they
tumbled to the floor. As they fell, Shannon hit her left cheekbone
on the railing behind the attorney tables. A sharp pain shot
through her face, her head rang like church bells and colorful
fireworks flashed in front of her eyes. She still couldn’t force a
scream, nor could she breathe.

Court security officers pried Lamar’s hands
loose from Shannon’s neck and pulled him off her. Her lungs
inflated with air, stinging just for a moment until the second rush
of air passed through. She fixed her gaze on Lamar as he fought to
break free from the security guards. One of the officers tased him
causing him to drop to the floor and flop like a tuna fish out of
water. Within seconds, they’d cuffed him and removed him from the
courtroom.