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“Tiffany hasn’t had an ultrasound yet.”
“Probably because the husband made bail and has tightened the leash around her neck.” I hated that man more than words could express. “Well, she’s in excellent hands with me. I’ll put in a change of caseworker and petition the courts for all the pertinent records for this case. I’m also going to re-drug test Tiffany and bring the police with me to the house. We need to show documentation on the father locking them in the house.” It wasn’t up to me whether Tiffany and her bastard of a husband lost their parental rights. My job dictated I found the truth. In all the years the Miller family had been on the CPS radar, this was the first time Tiffany came back positive for drugs.
“It would be better for all of us if she left his ass and went to her parents with the kids,” Gail said with a huff as she stood. “Keep me posted on the kids. I have to head to the hospital for a meeting with the NICU Pediatric team to see how baby Doe is doing this morning and if there’s been any changes.”
“Keep me posted,” I replied. “Again, I am so sorry for getting food poisoning and bailing on everyone.”
Gail waved me off. “Don’t even mention it.” She tipped her coffee mug in my direction. “This makes up for it.”
With the news playing in the background, I got to work on the Miller case to reorient myself with the family and everything the children had been through. I thought for sure after the eldest two went to Tiffany’s parents and the youngest went to foster care, she would have realized the situation she was in wasn’t sustainable. Obviously, it appeared I was wrong. Or I hadn’t counted on the husband being so determined to control Tiffany.
By lunch, which I hardly ate because the knot of guilt in my stomach remained, I drove to the courthouse to hand in an emergency petition to be added to the case as the new caseworker for the Miller Family. My stomach dropped when I saw there was a hearing scheduled for Monday morning not later in the week, like I assumed. It was a preliminary hearing. More of a formality.
The motion from the state to the judge was fairly simple. The state wanted mom drug tested, as did I. The state also wanted custody of the baby she carried. As well... God, I dreaded this part. If something happened to the fetus, mom would be charged with neglect for starters and if the unborn child died in utero, feticide. I could see why Gail needed help. Even I was overwhelmed, and the Miller family used to be my case.
After leaving the courthouse, I went back to the office for a few more hours, then went home. As much as I kept telling myself I could read to unwind and drink a little red wine, I was exhausted emotionally and physically. In some ways, I thought maybe having food poisoning would have been easier.
The rest of the week went by in a flash of motions from Tiffany’s lawyer, and other issues pertaining to my caseload. The easy one of all, Hunter and Destiny, didn’t even make a peep. Probably wouldn’t either. Hunter had tons on his plate right now. Between his shop, Destiny, and now the family member in the hospital, I couldn’t imagine what was going on in his head.
Didn’t even want to try.
By the time I clocked out on Friday evening, I was ready to fall into bed and sleep the weekend away, but I knew I couldn’t. Having court first thing Monday morning meant prepping. As much as I knew Tiffany’s case, there were things that happened after I handed the file off to Gail. Those were the things I had to understand. Maybe not for her, but for her kids. Also, for myself. I took failure personally. I’d spent so much time in the system myself, I knew what those kids would being go through, and I didn’t want that for them. Tiffany needed to succeed. Unfortunately, as much as I wanted it to happen, it wasn’t up to me. I could only report on the facts.
Instead of fooling with the case when I got home, I took a little me time to unwind. I scheduled a shift at the shelter before my life imploded, and now I was grateful for my forethought. Nothing like small animal therapy for four hours to reset my mind and soul. My ability to volunteer had drastically dropped over the last couple of years because of how busy I’d been with work, but as I was driving home, I realized I had to break up the stress in my life. If I continued down the path I was on, surely, I’d have a heart attack or worse, a stroke. I was no good to myself if I couldn’t function properly.
So, when my alarm went off the next morning, I got up and reminded myself I deserved a little me time too. I’d finish that dang book this afternoon, then watch cheesy reality TV for the rest of the night. Sunday, I’d refresh myself with Tiffany’s case, so come Monday morning, I’d be ready to go.
On my way to the shelter, I stopped to grab Kayan and July coffee and a treat. Relief flooded me. So far, no one questioned my whereabouts or how I got food poisoning. I used the forty dollars Hunter gave me to pay for the coffee and donuts, then put the rest on my card—that stuff wasn’t cheap. Since I did it that way, I also wouldn’t have to claim it on any of the forms, so it was as if nothing happened.
But something had.
I still couldn’t get that haunted look in Hunter’s eyes out of my mind. The turbulent swirl of his hazel-green eyes. His features were tight. Sunken. Almost as though he’d been put through the ringer and, I guess, he had in a way. It’d taken all my willpower to not call him and ask if he was okay. We weren’t friends. We were barely associates. In fact, we were caseworker and non-offending parent. Professional. Not personal. Yet, my mind drifted to him often over the last few days, hoping everything was okay.
When I pulled up to the shelter, the place was humming with activity. Today was an open house of sorts. An all hands-on deck kind of thing. All the workers would be there and a few volunteers, like me. I parked in the employee lot, then went inside, ready for whatever might come my way.
Stepping inside, the line of those filling out applications was the longest I’d ever seen. I rushed to the front desk, placed the coffees, and treats down for both July and Kayan, then grabbed a few of the clipboards to help mitigate the wait in line. The excited barks and yips from the shelter area were a balm for my nerves. Weird, right? How did a bunch of dogs barking calm someone when most time the sound grated against the nerves? To me, it meant one of those dogs or even a cat was going home with their family and the thought hit all my feels.
For three hours, a steady line of hopeful adopters came through the door looking for pets to join their family. When the event ended, July and Kayan sat at the front desk, exhausted and limp. I understood. My feet were killing me. But they did it. Seventeen dogs went to their fur-ever homes along with ten cats. That was worth celebrating.
“Coffee is cold, but it hits the spot,” Kayan said before popping a bite of muffin into her mouth. “Thanks for this, Posey.”
“You’re welcome,” I replied, sweeping up.
“So have you heard,” July murmured to Kayan. “Ireland didn’t know Hunter had a daughter.”
I jerked, torn between sweeping and standing there so I could eavesdrop. I’d interviewed Ireland a couple of days after I brought Destiny to Hunter. The woman was... Interesting. Gorgeous, obviously. Stunning green eyes and vibrant red hair. She was a no-nonsense type of person, so if she didn’t know about the baby either, I had tons more questions. Hadn’t she met Hope?
“How do you not know about getting a girl pregnant? You were both there when it happened,” Kayan grumbled. “Doesn’t put Hunter in a favorable light.”
No, it didn’t. I had to agree with Kayan’s assessment. Still, what if Hope never told him? From everything I’d read or seen with Hunter’s case, it didn’t appear as if Hope had contacted him until I showed up at his door.
“Well, all I’m saying is, things may not be what they seem,” July added. “Right now, Mack and Ireland, hell, all of them need our help.”
I perked up again. Was this about the hospital thing?
“Heard Waverly came out of the medical coma fighting again. Poor kid,” July said. “I can’t imagine the shit she saw on that hospital floor.”
“Then the baby,” Kayan added. “Jackson’s not holding up well either. The whole thing smells like shit to me. Doesn’t it, Posey?”
