Well Always Be Here For You

My thanks as always go to my two friends for their technical advice. My beta reader who seems to be putting in a lot of overtime on these stories, I can't thank you enough my friend. The final edit was done by vcwriter17b.

For the sake of the flow of the story I took some liberties with the legal procedures. If I hadn't it would have meant adding another two pages of legalese.

I hope you enjoy your read.

*******

We were late today. It wasn't important to be on time, of course, but we liked to keep our times with Becky on a regular schedule. The cemetery gates loomed closer; this was when Marion would move her hand to mine. I felt the warmth of her hand around my wrist and looked at her. She smiled; it was strained, even after a year.

Toby pulled over into his usual spot and got out, opening the door on Marion's side of the car. I let myself out, turned and lifted the flower arrangement. When Toby looked, I smiled and whispered, 'the usual time'. He always understood. With a nod of his head, he sat back in the car and waited.

We fussed over the grave of our daughter keeping the grass around the edge low and pulling a weed that dared venture too close. Marion knelt and opened the flowers, placing them in the little ornate vase on our daughter's grave. I stood behind her this time as she kept our daughter up to date on what we were doing, how we both missed her terribly and how we hated the word, leukemia.

The doctors thought they had found it early enough. The smiles didn't last when the test results came back. Becky had one of the more aggressive types and since her leukemia didn't have to hide any longer, it went rampant. We had our daughter in our lives for another three months. By the fourth month the disease had savaged her body to such an extent that she was simply skin and bone.

The drugs kept her pain free as best they could. Towards the end, they just weren't enough. Hearing your own daughter asking to die so the pain would go away ripped both our hearts. Sleep for all three of us was sparse at best. Even if we were staring at the phone, we jumped when it went off. At night Marion and I held each other. When we went to the hospital we held our daughter ever so gently. Even the slightest touch caused her pain. We didn't want to add to that so we placed our hands palm up on the bed and Becky rested hers palms down on ours as all three of us cried.

My wife and I buried Becky Francesca Tennyson, our seven-year-old daughter, on June 5th, exactly one year ago.

As Marion continued to tell Becky of our time since our last visit, something moved in the periphery of my vision. My eyes turned to see a little girl. She walked with a limp towards the gentle slope of the cemetery and stopped at one particular stone. The coat she had on to protect her from the chill in the air was torn around the arm. Her school bag dropped to the ground.

With the coat partially open I could see she wore a school uniform. I could also see blood down the front of her uniform. With my interest piqued I watched her closely. The girl's lower lip was swollen, her left eye was bruised and almost closed and her hair was a mess. She clearly had been in a fight, and at such a young age.

By now I realized that my wife had stopped talking to our daughter and was also watching the girl.

Then little girl burst into tears. The sound of those heart-breaking sobs reached across the space between us.

"Please wake up, Mommy, I can't do this anymore. I promised I'd be good and I've tried, but they won't leave me alone. They say I'm a freak because I don't have a mommy anymore."

I heard my wife gasp, hearing the plea of the little girl seven grave stones away from us.

"Mommy. Please, you promised to look after me. Please wake up. You taught me not to fight back and I don't, but the teachers tell the orphanage that I started it. I don't, Mommy, I promise, but I have no proof because I'm the most hated girl in the school."

My wife let out a groan of despair and my attention once again went to her, as she went to stand. I helped her up. Another movement caught my attention as a car pulled up alongside ours. A matronly woman got out and strode across the cemetery and carelessly trod on a couple of actual graves in her attempt to get directly to the girl.

The little girl had no idea the woman was walking towards her. She was still pleading with her late mother. "Please, Mommy, please wake up. Let me come with you. I hate it here without you. I want to die. They all hate me, Mommy. I've done nothing wrong but no one believes me."

The matronly woman had now got to within reach of the kneeling girl and grabbed her arm, almost lifting her bodily from her kneeling position via her arm. The little girl let out a scream as the woman shook her. My wife was across the distance between us and them before I had realized she had even moved. As I went to catch up with her, a uniformed security guard left the car and ran to protect the matron who was still shaking the little girl.

Pain wracked sobs emanated from the little girl while she still pled with her Mommy to wake up and take her. My wife got in the face of the matronly woman and through barely repressed anger, told her to put the child down. The security guard went to punch my wife and he ended up on the floor, while I stood over him rubbing my hand.

"First, you don't hit a woman. Second, you attempt to touch my wife again and I will put you in hospital."

The guard didn't seem to want to listen and went for his gun. Toby put his own gun to the guard's temple, causing a sudden change of heart.

The matron finally let the screaming child down. The girl ran into my wife's open arms. Marion wrapped her in as much love as she could possibly offer.

"You're interfering with official business. Go now and leave the girl to us or be charged with obstructing us in our duty."

I just had to ask, "Is it your duty to beat up little girls?" I then pointed to the security guard on the floor. "And does this thing shoot first without reason?"

Matron wasn't backing down. "He had a reason. You're in the way of our business."

By now we seemed to be creating a scene. The cemetery's gardeners were walking over. One had a cell to his face, talking really quickly.

"You're forcing your will on an innocent child."

This time she rolled her eyes. "Oh please, don't fall for this one's sob stories. She's been trouble ever since we got her."

I could now hear the sound of a siren and within seconds, a patrol car entered the cemetery. Toby now took a step back and holstered his firearm. The matron smirked, more so when the security guard stood up and was about to go once again for his own gun.

Toby glared at him and said, "In this state, I'm required by law to tell you that I am a black belt in three martial arts and a qualified sniper. Also a retired veteran of twenty years. Don't be stupid son, or it will end badly for you, police or not."

The guard paused in his actions long enough for the police cruiser to turn into the cemetery and park next to our vehicles. Then his smirk joined the Matron's.

With a glint in his eyes, he added. "I won't need to; your ass is grass, grandad."

The officer from the passenger seat was the first out of the cruiser; he walked over as the driver took the three cemetery gardeners to one side.

The officer then turned to us and smiled. "Mr. & Mrs. Tennyson. It's good to see you again, not so much under these circumstances though."

That's when matron got involved, demanding that we all be arrested for sticking our collective noses into her business. She then pointed to Toby and said. "And that gorilla over there has a hidden gun on him, officer."

She was less than pleased by his response. "Ma'am, he has a legal right to carry it." Then Officer Johnson turned to Toby, "You told them, I assume?"

Toby smiled, right back at him. "Oh yes, I also didn't reach for my gun until he did his."

The officer turned to the security guard. "You drew your gun on these people?"

"Yes, the old man hit me. Knocked me down."

"You don't seem to be hurt." Turning to me, he raised an eyebrow.

"He was taking a swing at my wife."

Officer Johnson shook his head and turned back to the guard. "May I see your permit, please?" Polite but not really a question.

"I don't have it on me."

"But you do have one, right?"

The guard nodded, now not looking smug at all.

"I am giving you a citation for failure to carry your permit. You are also ordered to report to this address at nine tomorrow morning with your permit. If you fail to show, we will have a bench warrant issued for your arrest. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

The other officer joined us during that exchange, glaring at matron. "The gardeners watched you walk over the top of three graves. They plan to report this to their boss, be ready for your boss to receive the complaint."

Matron stood straighter. "I am the boss at the orphanage."

This time he smirked. "When I said your boss, they weren't referring to you. It seems you've done this before and have been asked politely not to trample over graves. You told said person to fuck off and mind their own business. If you look around, you will see them taking photographs to be used as evidence in court."

"And yes, this is a criminal complaint. The DA's office will determine what charges will be filed and you will be notified.

That's when matron glared at the little girl still in my wife's arms. "That's because I always seemed to find her here, talking to no one."

She then looked again at Officer Johnson.

"Regardless of that." She then pointed to the little girl. "She's in our care and I demand you get that woman away from her, so we can leave."

My wife looked at me, pleadingly. Alas, I also knew there was little I could do at the moment.

"Officer. When my wife releases this little girl, can you please stand in front of her so your body camera can see every detail? She will turn around when you ask."

Matron spoke next. "That's not necessary."

It was my turn to glare at her. "I'm sorry, but I believe it is in the interest of the health of this child. I actually believe it's essential."

Logic won out of course, but my wife was reluctant to the bitter end in seeing this little girl go back into the so-called care of this woman.

Officer Johnson did as I asked and the girl stood in front of him. He was clearly a family man, a hardened Police officer he maybe, but still a family man. He asked the girl to remove her coat for a minute so she could repeat her turn in front of his body camera.

We all watched as the three went back to their car. Not once in clear view of both Police Officers did matron place a hand on her charge. I'm sure that Toby following about three paces behind them may have had something to do with it as well.

Toby was an unusual breed of man; he had been with my company almost from the beginning. I actually hired him on the recommendation of his commanding officer. The day before retirement from his regiment, I went to see him. It took two beers and dinner for both of us to realize that he was perfect for what I wanted. With Marion heavily pregnant and me still having to leave at a moment's notice on business matters, I needed someone I could trust to look after Marion and eventually Becky.

His easy nature suited Marion's sometimes bossy attitude and although he was an employee, in our hearts, he became our best friend. Marion learned to rely on him more and more, to the point that Toby was first choice with Marion. As Becky grew even our own daughter looked on him as family.

When Becky became ill, Toby was the only person other than Marion and me she allowed anywhere near her. He made her laugh and he sat and read to her until she finally managed to fall asleep. If we weren't around, it was Toby holding the bowl for our daughter to be sick into. 'Uncle Toby' was our daughter's favorite person.

Toby had bridged that gap between employee and friend. I trusted him to look after my family and he had never let me down.

*******

I walked over to the grave where the girl had been standing and knelt. Then I pulled my cell from the belt holster. "Kathy, I have a little research project for you. The subject is a Jessica Louise Merchant." I thought it best just to read the headstone. I was all but finished when I re-read the date she died. Then looked at my wife. She didn't miss it either. Jessica Merchant died the same day as our daughter.

As we went to leave, I did ask the officer if we were being charged. He smiled and shook his head.

He did take a step towards my wife and I, before he spoke in a soft voice that the groundskeepers wouldn't hear, "I hope you have both seen enough. Please make the right choice and save at least one life."

The officers left us staring at them, unsure what he meant. For some reason I thought back to my father. My sister and I were "army brats" when we were growing up. However, we never forgot that inside that uniform my father wore was both a man and our father. Like Dad, this officer seemed to embody that truth.

Toby opened the car door for my wife. I pulled my door open and sat next to her but something made me turn to look not only at the grave of our daughter but also the grave of Jessica Louise Merchant. A shiver ran down my spine. It took my wife placing her hand on my shoulder to bring me back from the vision of the girl and her mother.

*******

It was three days later my secretary, Kathy, walked into my office leading a police officer with a file in his hand. I set my pen aside to focus on them. Kathy looked real worried. I smiled and thanked her and asked her to close the door.

"Since you've come to my office, should I call you inspector Gregson or Manny?"

He smiled, sat himself down and placed the file on my desk, still within reach of himself.

"Had I not been away for two days, I would have been here before now. I read the report of my two officers about the cemetery incident."

He stopped abruptly when I put up my hand to stop him. Then flipped a switch on my intercom. "Kathy, can you find Marion for me, I think my wife's in accounts, but you know she likes to flit around."

The giggle in her voice didn't go unnoticed. We both knew it was true. "I will, sir."

We were still talking dates for the next 12th Precincts social event when the door opened and my wife entered. She took one look at Manny and was as confused as I was that he was here. Marion came around my desk and I stood, so she could sit.

"Well, Inspector, you have our complete attention."

Manny pushed the file across my desk. Marion picked it up and sat back in my seat to read through it.

"I read the report on the cemetery when I came in and took it to the DA's office. The DA has had his eyes on the orphanage for about a year now, but at the moment, all we have is circumstantial evidence. What we do know is that certain children that reside there seem accident-prone. They fall on the stairs a great deal in that place, among other things. We've also noticed that when some of the girls reach a certain age and leave the place, they are never seen again."

After several girls had vanished, an investigator called on the orphanage. The Matron woman produced pictures of one of the missing girls at a party to celebrate her leaving and there were even a couple of pictures of said girl with one hand on the exit door and the other holding a suitcase. A smile was also attached to the girl in the last one.

Inspector Gregson had given one of his detective's two names to track down. Both girls were on record of coming of age and leaving the orphanage. Then all records of them ceased. No applications for a driving license, no requests for any help whatsoever from any of the other services. The detective reached out to other departments but still came up empty. He even tried friends in the FBI and IRS. The Federal agencies couldn't get involved directly without evidence of crossing state lines. The IRS had no trace of either girl.

The inspector looked directly at us both. "The DA and I think Carla Merchant is next in line for an accidental fall down stairs, or something similar. I personally think it was your actions with my officer's body cam that's kept her alive this long. I want to lean on our friendship here and ask you two to take Carla Merchant in. I know you're still morning the loss of Becky and if this wasn't so important to us, I wouldn't press you. The DA and I need her safely off the grid."

My wife got in first. "Agreed, when can we pick her up?"

Inspector Gregson seemed to breathe the biggest sigh of relief.

"A female detective was waiting for her at school today. Only the head of the school knows and she's under strict instruction when the orphanage calls to tell them that Carla didn't turn up for school. The school district is with us on this, but the politicians on the School Board are being kept in the dark for now. The Superintendent has seen the pictures from the body cam and has been briefed on some of our concerns. Once we got firmly on the same page, we called Principal Elgin in for a chat.

"A special challenge in this case is that we don't know who might be a spy for Matron. There appear to be more disappearances than came to our attention."

My wife's eyes narrowed at this point. "Carla's downstairs isn't she?"

Marion didn't wait for an answer; she was already out of my seat and out the door, leaving it wide open. Kathy had to get up and close it, smiling as she did.

I reclaimed my chair and now both of us smiled. More so when I said. "I expect a call in about two minutes, telling me that Toby is taking them home and she won't be in again for the duration."

The inspector chuckled and then lost it when the phone did indeed ring.

I answered with a smile that quickly disappeared as Toby explained events that were unfolding in real time. "Double check, and then have one of the others, bring it to me. Take them home for now, but once you've finished, I want you to take them to the cabin."

Inspector Gregson looked concerned as he listened to my side of the conversation.

When I finished, I took a deep breath and lent forward toward him. "When Toby placed the girls in the car, an alarm sounded. He electronically wanded both my wife and Carla. It seems the little girl has a tracker sown into the belt for her school uniform. She's in the car at the moment so no signal can get out. Between Marion and others in the garage, they've cobbled together some clothes for her to wear. Her uniform is coming up here for you to take away. I suspect we know where the homing signal goes, but it would be nice to have proof. And wouldn't that make it harder now for them not to know where the missing kids are?"

Manny's lips tightened but he nodded. A few minutes later one of my people knocked and entered, he handed me a bag lined with foil. The foil trapped the tracker signal and prevented the tracker from receiving any instructions. I passed it to Manny and he nodded. His eyes gave so much of him away. This was one pissed cop.

*******

We sat and talked for a while longer, Eventually I decided that I would rather have his blessing for my activities than not.

"Manny, I have a confession to make."

After that, I pulled a draw open and slid a file across to him. "After the altercation at the cemetery, I asked Kathy to look into this matron woman."

He read it then looked at me. "I would say you have about as much as we have." His eyes narrowed some. "You want me to let you dig deeper?"

I wasn't going to lie to this man. "Yes, I do. But you know my company and although I will of course share what we find, I can't guarantee the end result will be what you and the DA want."

We stared at each other for a moment; it wasn't a stare down, far from it. I genuinely liked this man. I just wouldn't go behind his back, regardless of the fact that one of these people had openly threatened my wife.