The thunder and lightning had ceased, but the wind and rain were still going full force. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the cave grew a bit chilly. Hetty noted her agent was shivering slightly, had rolled on to his good side and curled into a ball. There wasn't anything she could do to alleviate his discomfort. Though she knew part of his problem was temperature related, he was a restless sleeper at best. He tended to twitch and turn, as the demons of his nightmares tortured him. It was no wondered he tried to sleep as little as possible; it certainly wasn't restful for the man. With a small sigh, she went back to her meditating.
When he opened his eyes, he was no longer wearing handcuffs, but he was dressed in prison clothes, being led down the hall by a guard. The door opened and Callen observed a typical prison visiting center with the chairs and tables bolted to the floor. At one of the tables, the little girl that called him Daddy sat, along with a stern looking woman who appeared that she would rather be anywhere but her present location. The blond child sat quietly, her eyes downcast, until the door opened and she spotted him. She screamed, "Daddy" and started to rise, but the woman reached over and tugged the girl back to a seated position.
"Remember what we talked about? You must remain seated," the woman sternly lectured the child.
The little girl's face clearly showed her disappointment. "But that is my Daddy. I want to hug him. Why can't I hug him?"
Callen could easily hear the conversation and his heart got that peculiar feeling again. With determination, he started walking towards the table, intending to give the girl a hug, but the guard brought him up short.
"There is to be no contact between you and the visitors. If you try, this visit will immediately be terminated," the guard sternly informed as he held him by the bicep.
Callen gave a little shake, to dislodge the guard's hand, before slowly walking towards the table and sitting in the chair opposite his two visitors. Callen did a quick assessment of the woman at the table and pegged her as a social worker. If his instincts, honed over thirty-seven homes were correct, she wasn't one of the good ones.
The little girl's face lit up with a smile again as he sat down, and she practically vibrated in her chair. She started to speak, but a severe glance from the social worker made her stop and cast her eyes downward.
Callen went to address the little girl and then realized he had no idea as to her name so he went with a generic. "How are you doing honey?"
The girl raised her downcast eyes, gave a sideways glance at the woman sitting next to her and whispered, "I don't like it at the foster place. Mrs. Henry said she would keep me, but they said no." She rolled her eyes back towards the woman sitting next to her.
The social worker, who could of course hear everything, sighed. "Mrs. Henry is not an approved foster parent."
Callen glanced from the social worker, to the little girl and back. "We'll get this fixed."
"Are there any other blood relatives we can contact, Mr. Callen?" the social worker questioned. Callen couldn't answer that question and the social worker took his silence as a no. "Then Amy will remain a ward of the state, until which time your incarceration is over; then there will be a hearing to determine custody."
The little girl's lower lip began to quiver. "What does she mean Daddy? Aren't you coming home? Where is Mommy? I keep asking but no one will tell me."
Amy. Her name was Amy. Callen reached out a hand towards the girl but a sound from the guard behind him made him stop. "Amy," he said softly, trying out her name, "I can't tell you what is going to happen yet. Some things need to get resolved. But while we are working to fix them, I need you to do something for me."
The blond child looked at him with adoring, loving eyes. "What Daddy?"
"I need you to be brave and to always remember that Mommy and Daddy love you very much," he said sincerely, his voice actually breaking a bit.
"Of course Daddy," she replied sincerely. "But where is Mommy?"
Callen swallowed hard, not knowing how to answer. If Joelle was this little girl's mother, and if the photos the detective showed him were real, then the regrettable answer was the little girl's mother was dead. But none of this made sense to Callen, so he did what he knew best, lied.
"Mommy went on a trip. It was unexpected. She's sorry she didn't get to tell you. But she said to say how much she loves you and will miss you."
There was no mistaking the look of disgust from the social worker at Callen's lie, but he didn't care. He also heard the snort of amusement from the guard, but luckily Amy picked up on none of these actions. She sat at the table, staring at him with her big blue eyes, believing every word. Callen had lied to thousands of people but this was definitely the worse and he hated himself for doing it, even if he felt it was the best for now. He wasn't going to destroy this little girl's life until he knew for sure what was going on and what was truth.
The social worker shuffled her papers into a neat pile, scooped them up, grabbed the little girl's hand and made her rise from the table. "Time to go."
Amy's lip quivered again and her blue eyes got moist with tears. "I don't want to go," she cried pitifully but the lady just tugged on her hand, practically dragging her towards the exit.
Callen rose to stop her but a hand clamped on his bicep and the whispered threat from the guard in his arm made him stop. He helplessly watched as the little girl was dragged, sobbing, and screaming from the room. Knowing it was stupid; Callen broke free of the guards grip, spun and delivered a swift blow to the man's stomach. The subsequent beating and isolation cell were worth it. What Callen wanted most now was to be left alone, and he had made his wish come true.