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“You were allowed temporary custody of Benny under rather unusual circumstances, Mr. Martinez. Permanent custody is another ball of wax.” Mrs. Thigpen’s voice softened almost imperceptibly. “If you can’t provide a stable home life, the chances aren’t good. It’s my understanding that Shawna Garza is a model prisoner. She’s been taking parenting classes and working on her GED. She may even get an early release for good behavior.”
“The kidnapper says she has a stash of drugs that belongs to him. She refuses to return it because she wants access to it when she gets out. Does that sound like a person who has been rehabilitated?”
“I’ll wait to hear what Ms. Garza has to say about the alleged stash of drugs. You’re talking about a kidnapper’s version of the story.”
“Right.” They were both quiet for several seconds.
“So, say Benny goes home with her when this is all over.” Daniel couldn’t let it go without a fight. “What’s to keep her from mistreating him all over again? It’s a terrible roller coaster ride for a kid to be on.”
“That’s why we monitor these situations.”
He marveled she could say that with a straight face. San Antonio was famous for its overworked, underpaid Child Protective Services staff. Children routinely fell through the cracks of the system. Babies died days after CPS visits, beaten to death with a vacuum hose or drown in bathtubs and smothered in plastic bags. The thought of Benny back in a cockroach-infested apartment with a woman who went though men the way some women went through shoes made his skin crawl.
“With varying success.” He managed to keep his tone neutral.
“Without a doubt.” Her sigh had a brittle sound. “Without a doubt.”
First they had to get Benny back. Then Daniel would fight this battle. One thing at a time. “You’ve done background checks on Ms. Garza. What can you tell me about family, friends, acquaintances?”
Mrs. Thigpen pulled a folder from her bag and opened it across the skirt that covered her ample lap. “Umm, let’s see. No family in the state. Brother, distant cousins, all in California. Some coworkers from the doughnut shop where she waitressed. None real close. Kept to herself at the apartment complex.”
“She ever been married?”
“Twice. First time when she was fifteen. Divorced when she was seventeen. Second time the guy got stabbed in a gang fight, died.”
“Was he Benny’s father?”
“No, no, this was years ago. We haven’t been able to get a line on Benny’s father. The birth certificate doesn’t list a name. We assume he was Hispanic, but Ms. Garza claims she doesn’t know who he was. She’s thirty years old, so she was twenty-one or twenty-two when she had Benjamin. She wasn’t married at the time.”
“So it doesn’t seem likely the father will come forward and demand custody.”
“Not likely.”
The night air grew cooler. Daniel shivered. The sound of wedding guests murmuring in the front yard mingled with the cicadas. The band seemed to be taking a break. Daniel was thankful for that. The screen door slammed, and Marco ran down the steps. He was barefoot. Daniel wanted to yell at him to put on his shoes, but he couldn’t muster the strength. “I took good care of him.”
“I know that, Mr. Martinez. No one could’ve imagined that something like this would happen, but it did. CPS is under tremendous pressure right now with the deaths of the Torres babies. We can’t afford to be lenient.”
Daniel had read about that case. Twins smothered by their teenage mother and then stuffed under the foundation of the duplex where she lived. She’d had a barbecue and when guests complained of a stench, she’d blamed it on a dead dog. “I will get him back.”
“Even if you do, what shape will he be in?” Her voice cracked slightly. She sniffed and dabbed at her nose with a tissue. “You and I both know some of the things children experience at the hands of adults can be far worse than a quick, merciful death.”
Daniel curled his hands around the arms of the rocking chair and willed himself not to imagine all those things. Joanna Thigpen had seen them firsthand. When it came to children, she’d seen much more than he had. Things that precluded leniency or sentimentality now.
“When will you talk to Ms. Garza?” The emotion on her face had subsided. Her professional mask was anchored in place.
“Early in the morning. If she tells us who she was doing business with, we could have Benny back by the end of the day. We might be able to find him before the deadline Monday. Even if we don’t, we’ll have the drugs and we’ll be able to make the exchange when he does call.” Or sooner.
“So much rides on Ms. Garza.”
Daniel struggled to give the benefit of the doubt to Benny’s mother. “If you’re correct about her wanting to do the right thing for him, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Keep me posted.” Mrs. Thigpen rose from the swing, the motion causing it to whip back and tap against the wall. She dropped the file in his lap. “Everything I know about Benjamin Garza is in this file. It’s a copy—keep it.”
Daniel put his hand on the folder to keep it from sliding off. He had to swallow twice before he could force the words to form. “Thank you.”
He sat there for several minutes after Thigpen plodded down the steps and across the yard.
God, wherever Benny is right now, please form a wall of protection around him. Soften the heart of the man who has him. Protect Benny until we can find him. Let him feel your presence and not be afraid.
