eyebrows.
"I'm not sure I can get in a
car anymore, but I'll try if you can take me to the police station. Bert Fowler
has told me one too many lies."
Just then, Jimmie appeared from
behind some oil barrels that were stacked at the edge of the clearing.
Obviously, he'd been hiding to see what might happen as a result of my visit.
He ran to his mother and put his arms around her neck.
"Why didn't you tell me,
son?" she asked, as the tears began to run down her cheeks.
"I didn't want to make you
sad," he said, rubbing her on her back.
"Can you be strong, if we go
to the police? Bert will be awful mad."
"Maybe he'll go to jail,"
Jimmie said hopefully.
"Not for ever," Dee said, shaking her head. "But we better not worry about that yet."
Dee could not lift her leg high
enough to step into the Jeep, but I managed to pull in beside the open steps
that led to the trailer, and with our help, Dee awkwardly got into the passenger
seat. Jimmie hopped in the back, and we headed for Cherry Hill.
"We need to go to the
Sheriff's Department, I said. You live outside the Cherry Hill village
limits."
"Oh, no! I can't do
that," Dee said. "I want to talk with Tracy Jarvi."
Tracy is our young, female Chief of
Police. She's very popular. In fact, Tracy is one of my favorite people in my
new hometown. She was doing a terrific job of making friends and slowing down
the rate of petty thefts and vandalism that can pull a small town into a steady
decline.
"She'll just have to turn the
case over to the county."
"Well, she can do that if she
has to. But I saw her on television. I think she'll understand. I'm not talking
with any Sheriff."
I hadn't met the actual Sheriff,
and knew the case would probably be handled by a woman detective, but I didn't
want to do anything that would make Dee change her mind, so I drove directly to
the Cherry Hill police station, which is located beside the court house, just
north of the village park. I pulled into the parking lot and stopped in the
shade of a tree.
"I can't get out," Dee contended. "Maybe she can come out here?"
Jimmie reached over the seat to pat
his mom on the shoulder reassuringly, and I went inside to explain things to Tracy, and ask her to come outside.
Tracy and I returned to the car in
a few minutes. I was still afraid Dee might chicken out, but apparently she
really had no idea that Bert hadn't even provided Jimmie a heated place to stay
over the winter, and was now thoroughly angry, although frightened. She poured
out the story to Tracy, who listened and asked appropriate questions. In
addition to the bruises on her mid-section, Dee also showed us black-and-blue
spots on her arms and legs.
Dee was winding down her story, and
Tracy said she would go call the Sheriff's Department. She tried to assure
the unhappy woman that no one was going to blame her for Jimmie's living
conditions.
After Tracy left, Jimmie spoke up.
"What about Beth and Lindsey, Mom?"
"I don't know, Jimmie-boy, I
don't know. Their dad has custody, but I'm sure we can visit them if I can lose
some weight. I don't know how I got this way."
"OK, I miss them."
"I know you do. I'm so
sorry," Dee whispered.
"It's OK, Mom," Jimmie
whispered back.
"Three branches?" I asked,
and he nodded.
Tracy returned in a minute and said
a deputy was on the way, and also an ambulance to take Dee to the hospital in Emily City. Emily City is actually in the next county, but Forest County's population is
so sparse, we only have a small out-patient clinic.
"They'll want to do a forensic
examination, and check your general health, Mrs. Pickard," Tracy said.
"Oh, is that necessary?" Dee looked uncomfortable.
"Absolutely. You want to make
these abuse charges stick so that Bert Fowler can't get revenge. The case will
be even stronger if he's been preventing you from getting necessary medical
treatment."
"OK," she said in a small
voice.
"From the things you've told
me, he's already looking at domestic abuse, child endangerment, and