Cross-Examination

Common Law

Chapter thirty-six

Family Support Magistrate: A person who decides cases involving child support and paternity. Can also enforce court orders involving paternity, child support and alimony.

"Someone please get this child a room!" A handful of nurses stood around Sammy Wanda, their emotions ranging from stunned to horrified. Samuel lay quiet on a stretcher, one frail hand squeezing Travis's outstretched grasp.

All remnants of the hell this child had gone through was evident. Dirt smudged the boy's skin, almost making him look darker than he was. Dried blood caked around minor scratches and deep gashes alike. His hair was covered in dust, dandruff, and debris from the fall of the door. A tattered baseball jersey and a ripped pair of basketball shorts covered a frail, shrunken skeleton of a body.

"Ready." An older nurse poked his head out of a room, giving his coworkers a thumb-up.

"All right, Sammy, looks like they're gonna clean you up, huh?" Travis whispered. Samuel looked up at the detective, his eyes large.

"Sir," a young nurse took a hold of the stretcher. "Are you family to this child?"

"No," Travis shook his head. "But I'm with the police. And I-" his phone began to ring. Frowning, Travis slipped the device out of his pocket. Ben Dias. He knew that this time, ignoring the call would not be a good idea.

"Yes?" the nurse raised an eyebrow.

"I-I'll check on him later." Travis assured the nurse. "Tell him that. I will see him again."

"Of course," she smiled and began to push the stretcher towards the vacant room.

"Hey, man." Travis held the phone up to his ear. "How's everything going?"

"Uh," the rookie's voice cracked. Travis immediately knew something was wrong. "A-are you with the kid?"

"Yeah, he was just put into a room."

"Okay. Yeah." he sighed. "Uh, you go check on him, then."

"What's up, man?" Travis frowned.

"Nothing." There was a long pause, in which Travis listened and Ben waited. Neither wanted to speak. "I shouldn't have called." Ben's voice was lifeless. "I'll see you around."

"Sure." Travis answered a little unsurely before hanging up. That was probably the weirdest phone conversation he had ever had. He would make note of that when he got a chance to talk to Wes. What the hell is up with Ben, man?

Rounding a corner, Travis headed into the room containing his new friend. Well, not friend. He hardly knew the child. However, there was something intriguing about him to Travis. He was so young and broken, and Travis was determined to get in touch with his parents—or guardians—as soon as he had a chance. But, first, he wanted to check on him.

A young, pretty nurse that Travis hadn't seen before knelt down before Samuel, gently turning off the hot water in the bubble bath in front of her. Travis peered into the bathroom. Samuel looked as content as he had ever been, laying amiss murky bubbles, now a mixture of dirt, blood, and soap, and a warm tub. His tan eyes were closed, his dark mop of hair still dry.

"Are you an angel?" Samuel asked, his eyes still closed. He seemed perfectly content to lay in this tub forever.

"An angel?" her voice was soft and gentle. With smooth lines, she rubbed the young boy's bony shoulder.

"My momma always told me that if I meet an angel, that I should ask her to sing me a song, 'cause an angel has a pretty voice."

The nurse's cheeks turned scarlet, but she kept her calm. "Yes," she smiled. "Yes, I'll sing you a song.

"Pass me not, O gentle Savior, hear my humble cry; while on others Thou art calling, do not pass me by. Savior, Savior, Hear my humble cry, while on others Thou art calling, do not pass me by."

Her voice was so soothing, so wonderfully consoling to both Samuel and Travis. Travis couldn't remember the last time he had heard a hymn, or such a simple song. He leaned in to hear more.

"Let me at Thy throne of mercy. Find a sweet relief; kneeling there in deep contrition, help my unbelief. Trusting-"

Travis stepped forward a bit, pushing the door open ever so slightly. The nurse heard the old piece of wood creek and jumped, turning around. Travis was sprayed accordingly with dirty bath water.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed frantically, standing back up quickly. Her ponytail, which seemed to entrap a mess of curly, brown hair, hung loose on her head. She handed Travis a towel swiftly, but he brushed it aside.

"I'm fine, really."

"I didn't notice you," she continued, obviously flustered. "I mean, I would have-"

"Mister Travis!" Samuel exclaimed, his eyes flying open at the familiar voice. "You came back!"

"Hey, Sammy." Travis grinned. "Good to see you again, bud. How you holding up?"

"Have you met my angel?" Samuel sat up in the bath, the water sloshing around him. Travis caught a hint of Sam's ribcage and stick-like arms. The thought made him slightly ill.

"Angel?" Travis smiled, raising an eyebrow, as if he hadn't been listening the entire time to this angel's beautiful soprano.

"So he says," she blushed.

"You have a lovely voice," Travis commented. "It almost reminds me of one of my foster mothers."

Travis waited for the flicker of recognition in the nurse's eyes, the eventual reproach upon the realization that Travis was one of those kids growing up. However, in her eyes, he saw no judgment. She merely produced a grin so sweet he had to smile back.

"Travis." he held out his hand.

"Lydia." she shook his hand ever so politely before turning back to washing the dirty child. "Forgive me," she spoke as she reached for some shampoo. "I don't want Samuel to be dirty a second longer."

"Mister Travis saved me. He and his friends." Samuel pointed out as Lydia squirted some of the shampoo into her hands. She stopped, looking up in confusion.

"Police?" she asked.

"Yeah," Travis nodded, kneeling down beside her. "My partner and I are here on a case. We're from LA."

"Oh." Lydia's smile seemed to fade for a minute as she worked the lather into her hands slightly before applying it to Samuel's matted hair. "California."

"That's where Sammy's from." Travis tried to explain the best he could. He didn't want to get into police matters.

"Really?" Lydia looked at Samuel.

"Yeah," Sammy nodded. "My mommy and daddy sent Mister Travis and his friend for me."

"Oh?"

"Essentially." Travis faltered. "Kind of."

"Not really." Lydia finished.

"Yeah." Travis nodded gratefully. "It's a long story."

"Confidential, I assume." Lydia nodded understandably. "Don't worry, I'm not one to prod."

"That's good to hear." Travis sat down, leaning against the wall. He watched Samuel as he washed the shampoo from his hair. The boy was smiling unabashedly, even splashing some water at Lydia, who cleverly moved to the side. Travis chuckled.

"All right, Sammy, you're all clean." Lydia beamed at him after some time.

"I don't want to get out…" Samuel moaned, cowering lower into the water. "I'm too tired."

"Sam-"

"Here," Travis stood up, rolling up his sleeves. "I'll get him out of the tub."

"Really?" Lydia flushed again.

"Sure," Travis shrugged. "Can you hand me a towel once he's out?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." Travis looked down at Samuel. "You better not splash me, little man."

Samuel burst into a fit of giggles, even when Travis's strong hands slipped under the warm water and plucked him out like he was picking an apple from the outstretched branch of a tree. Lydia handed Travis a dry towel, and he wrapped it around the thin body of Samuel Wanda, pressing it close. Samuel clung on to the towel for warmth as goosebumps began to prick his skin.

"There," Travis smiled, rubbing the boy's shoulders. "Now, you're all clean."

Lydia had remained silent. When Travis glanced over at her, she was shaking her head in disbelief.

"Why do you care so much?" she asked softly. "No other policeman I've known as helped so extensively."

"He reminds me of myself." Travis spoke after a pause.

"Californian?"

"Alone." Travis whispered. Lydia bowed her head.

"Mister Travis, are my mommy and daddy coming to get me soon?" Samuel asked.

"Soon," Travis whispered. "As soon as I can find them."

"Okay." Samuel nodded. "Okay."

"Samuel, how long were you away from your parents?" Lydia asked, frowning. Her wet hands came to rest at the foot of the tub.

"I dunno." The boy shrugged. "Ever since Mommy and Daddy went away, I've been in that room."

"We found him trapped in a locked closet." Travis explained. "It was dark, cramped, uncomfortable…"

"Someone kidnapped him."

"Someone." Travis repeated with a sigh.

"Do you know who did this?" Lydia asked. "Do you know who would hurt a child?"

Travis just looked at her. He couldn't say. He didn't want to say his name. He couldn't say the name of the person who had hurt him and his friends so much. Travis's friends were his family. He wouldn't let anything happen to his family.

As if on cue, Travis's phone rang, breaking the silence between the two adults.

Wes Mitchell.

"Take it," Lydia nodded. "We'll be fine."

Travis nodded. "It's my partner," he said, as if he had explained everything with only two words. Lydia looked down before turning back to Samuel.

Stepping outside the bathroom, Travis held the phone up to his ear. "Wes," he spoke urgently. "Talk to me."

"Ramon was at the hotel." Wes's voice did not come at all like Travis expected. Instead of sharp and concise, his voice was broken and, almost, fearful. "Ramon was at the hotel, and he broke into Alex's room."

"No."

"He attacked Nick. He attacked Alex."

"Wes-"

"N-Nick is dead. I don't know about Alex, I think she might have been…she could have been…she was attacked, Travis."

Travis felt weak. His knees were threatening to buckle at any minute. "Are you sure of any of this?" he breathed out softly, for he did not want to believe anything he was hearing.

"If I wasn't, I wouldn't have told you." Wes's sounded stressed; Travis could hear him sigh. "Just…just get down here, Travis. I need you here."