Full Circle (4 page)

"I never changed my mind about you," Jack said thoughtfully. "I always thought you were a plucky little kid that needed a keeper. You're still plucky, but now I have to upgrade my mental list to add beautiful, smart and tough."

Jack left the Raintree house long before he wanted to go. An eleven-year-old, claiming he was starving and in need of help with his homework, interrupted them. That was okay, because although Josie had given him a view into her past, he didn't think he was up to revealing his to her.

He picked up a pizza and six-pack, and headed back to his house. It was not home, not yet, and it might never be, again. What he had was a dilapidated old house and a lot of land currently leased out to other ranchers. He was not a rancher and had never had a desire to be one.

Josie had returned to what she considered home, and her self-worth was well earned. She was doing something with that old house of her uncle's. She was making it more than it had been when she was a kid. She had made something of herself. He didn't understand why she felt an attachment to the town and an old house where she had experienced nothing but neglect throughout most of her childhood.

He pulled out a can of beer, set the pizza down on the table and walked through the large rooms of the house where his parents had raised him. Jack realized he hated almost every piece of furniture, every picture on the wall, every rolled up rug and dusty piece of crap. He didn't hate the antiques; he hated what it represented, the arrogance and the facade of normalcy. Nearly everything in the house represented his father and his grandfather. With a sudden burst of disgust, he threw the can of beer across the room. It shattered a gold-gilded mirror and split open spewing beer in every direction. He turned and walked out.

Jack was nursing a beer at Riley's. He absentmindedly responded when anyone tried to strike up a conversation while pretending to watch the sports channel. Riley Connors was bartending as he did most nights. He let him sit and brood. He had to admit; he had done a lot of brooding over the last several months. It was Riley who alerted him that something was wrong, a certain tilt to his chin, and a squint of his eyes. Jack slowly turned his head and looked directly into the ice-cold eyes of his grandfather, Amos Rawlings.

"Have a seat," Jack grunted.

"I'll speak to you outside," Amos Rawlings ordered. "I don't want anyone to see me here."

"Why? Do you fear for your reputation?" Jack laughed.

"Show some respect," Amos snapped. "I am a man of God."

"Don't preach at me, old man. I know you for the devil you are, and I don't have to listen to your crap anymore," Jack said, sliding off the stool and walking to the door. He had seen the look in Riley's eye, and he didn't want to cause his old friend any problems.

Amos Rawlings walked to his restored 1940 Packard convertible as Jack followed him. As much as he despised the old man, you could not deny the old bastard's taste in vehicles.

"What do you want, Amos?"

"You've been in town three days. Don't you think you at least owed me a visit or a phone call?" the old man demanded.

"No," Jack retorted. "I don't owe you anything."

"Are you staying out at your parents' place?" Amos demanded.

"My place, now," Jack snorted. "At least you couldn't screw me out of that."

"How long will you be in town?" Amos said coldly.

Jack studied the only man on earth he could honestly say he hated. "Anything longer than a day is long enough to worry you, old man. How long I stay here is no concern to you. Stay out of my way, and stay out of my business. I know your secrets."

Josie sat on one of her cream-colored, overstuffed sofas confronting Jolene Watson, caseworker in charge of Alex Carter. "Jolene, this isn't a good idea," Josie pleaded. "Alex does not want to see his mother. The last time he did, she was defending her doped up boyfriend who beat the crap out of him."

Jolene twisted her lips in the same manner that she had done in junior high when someone opposed her opinion. "The point is, Josie, Marcy wants to see him. She is his mother, and she has rights."

"What about Alex's rights?" Josie demanded. "He doesn't want to see her. Marcy Carter beat him, starved him and didn't give a damn about him. He was useful to her only because having him around increased the amount of money she got from the county each month. She didn't use that money to feed him, but to feed her drug and alcohol addictions. Now, he has a chance for something better, and she wants to destroy that, too!"

"I'll admit Marcy has had some issues," Jolene began. "However, she's trying to put them behind her."

"Issues," Josie repeated. "An issue is not paying your light bill on time. Letting your child go without food and basic needs is child endangerment. Allowing your boyfriend to beat up on him is child abuse, and conducting prostitution, and drug and alcohol use, in front of him is so far beyond child abuse that I don't think there is a name for it."

"My job is to see if families can be reunited," Jolene interrupted. "I am aware of Marcy's history of issues. She is trying to change. She deserves a second chance."

"I believe she's had a second, third and fourth chance already," Josie stated matter-of-factly. "Does she deserve another chance to sell her son to a John, who will use him in exchange for a few rocks of cocaine?"

Jolene Watson's hands gripped the purse in her lap. "I am aware of your interest in the boy, Josie, but my job is to see that all parties are treated fairly—including Marcy Carter. I am taking him to visit his mother at the Centreville Retention Home. I will supervise the visitation. When rehab releases her, we will place him back with her. I will be monitoring the situation until I feel she is stable enough to handle the boy on her own."

"To my knowledge the court has not approved this visit nor have they decided on Alex's future placement. You haven't produced any paperwork authorizing this visitation and pre-announcement of his placement. Until you show me some authorization, he's not going anywhere."

"I'm taking the boy to see his mother," Jolene snapped back. "I'm doing my job as the child's advocate."

"You're not his advocate; you are a caseworker. Alex has a child advocate attorney, and I haven't heard from Mrs. Foster. I'm doing my job as his foster parent, and I'm going to protect that boy."

"Josie, I am in charge of this case," Jolene Watson shouted. "I don't appreciate your interference. You wouldn't understand, never having had a mother yourself, but it is in the boy's best interest to be with his mother and Marcy wants him back. I will be filing a complaint and requesting that he be removed from your care. Your obstruction is doing that boy more harm than good. He needs to be with Marcy as much as she needs him."

"What Alex needs is a stable home and a loving parent. Your obstruction and interference, because you were best friends with Marcy when you were a teenager, is noted," Josie retorted. "Grow up, Jolene, this is not junior high. A child's welfare is at stake. I'll be filing a complaint with your supervisor for a change in caseworkers on Alex's behalf."

Jolene Watson stood up. "You may think you're somebody in this town because the town council appointed you sheriff, but I grew up with you, Josie Raintree. You were trash as a child, and you are trash, now. I will see that your foster-care license is revoked. You are not going to run over top of me. Do you think getting an attorney for the boy makes any difference? It won't. It's my report that counts, and I'm recommending that Alex be placed back in the custody of his mother. That boy will be living with Marcy as soon as I can make it happen. Meanwhile, a charge of sexual assault will put an end to your foster-parent career, and it might even be enough for the town council to reconsider your job as Sheriff. Marcy is my friend, and I promised her I'd do whatever it takes to get her son back with her."

"How on earth did you get hired as a social worker with the lives of children depending on you to make the right decisions for them?" Josie demanded, getting to her feet. "I knew it wouldn't take long for your true nature to show through."

She plucked a cell phone out of a vase of flowers sitting on the coffee table only inches from where Jolene sat. "Mrs. Tarry, did you hear that clearly? Good! Yes, I have recorded it. Yes, thank you, I'll be glad to meet with Mr. Shorey any time, I'll match my schedule to his. Please have him call Mrs. Eileen Foster, Alex's child advocate attorney. Her number should be in his file if not, call me. Thank you again, of course, you may."

Jolene's eyes were flashing with anger as Josie handed her a cell phone. "Your supervisor would like to speak to you."

"You set me up, you bitch," Jolene snapped as she took the phone. However, as she listened, Jolene seemed to deflate. "Yes, ma'am... yes, Mrs. Tarry... your office this afternoon. I'll be there. Ma'am, I only wanted to say... yes, ma'am, this afternoon."

Josie plucked the phone from the fingers of one of her worst childhood tormentors. "I didn't set you up, Jolene. You set yourself up by not doing your job and not protecting an eleven-year-old child. The only thing I care about is protecting Alex Carter, from you, from his mother and anyone else that might jeopardize his future. I hope your meeting with your supervisor goes well. Meanwhile, Mrs. Tarry has assigned Mr. Shorey as Alex's caseworker. I'll see you to the door."

Josie watched at the door until Jolene Watson got into her car and left her property. A nemesis from her school days, Jolene Watson was still a nasty piece of work, and she had not improved with age. She'd been a bully, and selfish to the bone as a teenager, and it appeared she had not changed. Although Jolene had trapped herself with her own words, she did not leave gracefully. The air was tinged blue from her swearing.

Josie leaned her forehead against the doorframe and closed her eyes.

"Is she gone for good?"

Josie whirled around to meet the worried face of a troubled boy. "Didn't I tell you to stay in your room?"

"Yeah, but I knew you'd be talking about me. I've got a right to know when it's me you're talking about," Alex grumbled.

"Well? What did you hear?" Josie asked.

"Not much," Alex admitted. "What's going on? Why are you wearing your uniform? I thought you were taking the evening shift today because you asked Georgina to come over to stay with me tonight. Not that I need a babysitter. I'm too old for a babysitter."

Josie gave a sigh not wanting to get into that particular argument again. "I'm wearing my uniform for the purpose of intimidation. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. As our meeting is over, and you are not going to Centreville, I might as well take you to school and get some work done myself."

"Yeah," Alex exclaimed punching his fists into the air.

"Yeah," Josie repeated pulling the boy into a combination headlock and hug. "You are going to do two hours of extra chores for disobeying me and eavesdropping."

"Aw, Josie, I couldn't get close enough to hear much of anything, so it shouldn't count," Alex grumbled. "And why do I have to go school? I'll be really, really late."

Josie grinned. "For the same reason I have to go to work, because it's where we're supposed to be right now. I'm supposed to be at my job, and you are supposed to be at school. That's how it works in the real world. When you make a commitment, you need to follow it through to the end. Don't argue and put me into an ornery mood. I'll pick you up after school. We're going to attack the wallpaper in that upstairs tower room tonight."

"I'm going to have extra homework, on account of I've missed some classes," Alex said with a conniving look.

"Which you will do before you start the first of your two hours of hard labor," Josie warned. "Come on, buddy, you're putting me behind schedule!"