Author's notes: Yup, another chapter. I've been so charged up for this story; all I want to do is write. Of course I've got to start baking for Thanksgiving. I'm the baker in my family and my relatives have already put in their orders for what type of pies and breads they want for lunch tomorrow. I hope I'm not spoiling you by giving you so many chapters in such short order. Don't let this fool you, I'm still the chapter a week gal you encountered in my last story!
My knowledge of the foster system comes from a niece and also a co-worker who are foster parents. So, other experiences may differ.
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Flack walked quickly to the back of the church and while searching the pews surrounding the area around where the baby had been, the first uniformed officer returned with the priest. Straightening up, he nodded to the men. "Sorry Father, but I needed to speak with you. I'm Detective Flack."
The middle-aged priest was a thin man with thinning gray hair that was neatly combed even at this time of night. Obviously part of the delay had been the man dressing and grooming himself. "Father Paul. The officer told me a baby had been found in the sanctuary?"
"Yes. I was wondering if there were any parishioners that have a newborn." Flack pulled his notebook out of his coat pocket.
Reflecting, the priest stood quietly. "We get such a wide range of people in for the various masses, it would be hard to say. However off the top of my head I can think of four that have had a baby in the last month or two. I'm afraid I couldn't give you addresses because they are not official members of this parish."
"Not a problem, just give me their names and I can find the address." Flack wanted to rush the priest but recognized that this was a man that didn't like to hurry into anything. Mentally counting to ten he waited for the names.
"There are the Garners, they are a young couple. First child and both sets of grandparents are members. Also the Rockhill's. This is their third child. They are both very involved in the youth programs. The Santana's just had a baby last week, a little boy." The priest paused again. "The last one would be Gloria Maxwell, she's not married. Several of the ladies have taken her under their wings and have tried to help. Of course others feel with being unmarried," he trailed off. "Of course we try to teach our members to love and forgive, but some of the older members have a hard time with that."
"Any other names you can think of Father?" Flack looked up from his book.
"Sorry, that's all that comes to mind. However, I will talk to our church secretary tomorrow and see if she can think of anyone else."
"I'd appreciate that." Extending a business card, Flack glanced over to the area where he had been praying. "Here's my card. Call if you can think of anything, even if you don't think it might be important. We will finish up and get out of here as quickly as possible."
"Goodnight then and I'll be praying for that small child." The priest turned and went out, returning to the parish house that was connected to the church.
Turning to the two officers Flack shook his weary head. "I think we're almost done. Do another sweep of the area and bag anything that you find. I want you to send me a copy of your report tomorrow and I expect you will keep your eyes and ears open."
The men agreed and with flashlights out they both began searching the interior of the church. Flack picked up his jacket and slipped it back on. Glancing at his watch he saw that he had a little over five hours before his next shift was to begin. If he hurried home he might catch three, maybe four hours of sleep. Heading out into the cold, crisp night his mind continued to turn things over and over regarding a little girl with blue eyes.
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Drinking a cup of the black sludge the emergency room staff at Mercy Hospital mistakenly called coffee, DeEtta Whitman filled out the paperwork that would put the little girl into the system. Upon arrival a nurse had taken the baby to begin an examination. Every indication so far was that the little was healthy, but hungry.
Pulling out her list of foster homes she perused the names. Since it was likely that this baby would be eventually adoptable, she wanted to find a home that was listed as hoping to adopt. The first name on her list was Scott and Denise Norton. She would call them as soon as the baby had finished with her check up.
Looking back down at the mound of paperwork she sighed. Poor little thing. Of course she saw it everyday in her job, but that still didn't make it any easier. DeEtta thought back to the church, the detective really seemed to care. Having worked with her share of the police she knew that many of the men and women in blue had a real soft spot for children. Others, she thought ruefully, had grown callused and indifferent to the plight of these little ones. Too often they saw the outcome of drug abuse and prostitution, a crop of unwanted children with more baggage than Paris Hilton. But this detective had spoke with conviction in his voice, DeEtta was sure he would do everything he could to find the mother to this child.
A nurse stuck her head into the lounge, "Ms. Whitman. The doctor wants to talk to you quickly."
Following the nurse into the examination room, DeEtta greeted the doctor. "Hello Dr. Karuse. How is our little one doing?" Another nurse was currently feeding the hungry baby.
Smiling at the social worker the doctor pushed his glasses back up his nose. "You've got a healthy little girl, approximately 4 weeks old. Everything looks good, no signs of any physical abuse or neglect. Of course, she was hungry. But a young baby like that can't go too long with out a fill up."
"That's great news. Thank you Doctor." The social worker smiled brightly, at least that was some good news.
"Well, I've got a gall bladder next door, so I've got to got. I wanted to give you the good news since that doesn't happen with us so often." Giving DeEtta a small smile, the doctor left the room.
"Well little girl, lets go get you a home. Can you finish feeding her for me? I need to make a couple of quick calls." DeEtta looked at the nurse expectantly.
"I'd love to. She is such a little sweetie." The perky blonde nurse smiled sweetly at the sucking infant. "Isn't that right princess."
Ducking out the exam room DeEtta went back to the lounge and pulled out her cell phone. One thing she had found in all of her years in this business, foster homes didn't mind the middle of the night calls when it meant that a child was in need of them.
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Denise Norton was having a wonderful dream; one where she was an old woman and was surrounded by grandchildren. Sometimes she would have that dream and wake up with tears in her eyes. Ever since her diagnosis of infertility due to fallopian tube and uterine issues, the hope of ever having a child had been fleeting. Her husband, Scott worked as an accountant for a small business and she was a middle school math teacher. Combined they didn't make enough to afford the costly invetro fertilization and neither insurance would cover the procedure. They had decided to go the adoption route, only to find that international adoption was also very expensive. Turning to domestic adoption they had decided by becoming foster parents they would have a better chance of getting an infant or young child.
The ringing of the phone brought her quickly awake. Blurry eyes saw that it was 4 a.m., her pulse quickened. Growing up, a phone call in the late night was always viewed with the fear of bad news. Her mother had strictly enforced the no calls after 9 p.m. rule because anything after that could be an emergency. Reaching out for the phone she answered tentatively. "Hello, the Norton's."
Moments later Denise was sitting up and turning on the lamp located next to the phone on the nightstand. "In an hour? Yes, that would be fine. No, no problem at all. Ok." Looking over, Denise could see that Scott was awake and was looking at her questioningly. "We will see you in an hour then. Thank you Ms. Whitman."
She hung up the phone and turned to her husband of six years. "That was a social worker. There is a month old baby that needs a home." She smiled broadly and tears sprung to her eyes, "There is a very good chance that this baby will be adoptable." She leaned into her husband's arms as they celebrated quietly.
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The bleating alarm interrupted the fitful sleep that Don had finally fallen into. Climbing out of bed and getting into the shower, he leaned into the hot, steamy water. He let the water pound against his tired body. Washing his hair and then soaping up his lean, muscular body, he tried to rehearse the speech he would give his supervisor about why he should take department resources to find the mother of the baby. He toweled off. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he shaved the dark beginnings of a beard from his face. Rinsing out his razor, he turned his face to scrape at his jaw line. He could see faint dark circles under his eyes. A cup of strong coffee would help clear away the cobwebs.
He opened his drawer and pulled out a pair of briefs, he would need to do laundry soon, only a couple of pairs left. He grabbed a light blue dress shirt and coupled it with a tie from his rack. He ran his fingers over one crumpled tie that hung by alone; Aiden had given that tie to him. He had opened the present and had laughed when he had seen it. She said it was the butt-ugliest tie she could find. She had taken his tie from his neck and had replaced it with that one. He could still remember the warmth of her body as she leaned up against him as she slid the tie around his collar. Her perfume was slightly spicy; it fit her to a t. Shaking his head to dispel the memories he quickly dressed and left his apartment. He wanted to get to work as soon as possible. If he asked his lieutenant first thing this morning, chances were he would still be in a good mood.
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Forty-five minutes later Flack stalked out of his lieutenant's office and threw himself into his desk chair. No, the bastard had said no! What was with everyone? Didn't they know a little girl was all alone and needed their help. Not important enough. Damn it! Taking a deep breath to calm himself, Flack resolved to work this case anyway. He had extra time that he could squeeze in looking for the mother. No one would have to know until he had found the mother.
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Danny poured a cup of coffee and took a tentative sip. It tasted good. Stella must have made it. He had found that even though she was cute, Lindsay couldn't make a decent pot of coffee. It surprised him; he always thought someone from out west would know the secret to good coffee. He laughed to himself and was turning to head back to the lab when Mac opened the door.
"You don't look any worse for the wear this morning Messer." Mac crossed to the pot and poured a cup. "I'd think closing up Joe's would give me a whole staff of red-eyed cranks."
"Mac, you cut me to the quick. A few beers and some laughs and I am as fresh as a daisy." Danny took another sip of the hot liquid.
"Stella came in looking like something the cat drug in. I figured the rest of you suffered the same fate." He picked up his own cup and took a drink. "Good thing you didn't. I've got two cases that I need to send someone out to cover. I've got Stella and Sheldon waiting in the lab, so grab your coffee and head in."
Mac was right about Stella, she looked tired as she stood talking quietly to Sheldon. Lindsay was hanging up her coat and smoothing her hair as she approached the group. Danny gave her a nod and a smile. He was sure she blushed lightly as she greeted the rest of the group.
"Ok, I've got a robbery with a db over on the east side, Stella and Sheldon, meet up with Detective Mitchell. He's in charge of the scene. Danny and Lindsay, they've pulled a floater out of the river, third one this week. Flack is heading over to that one, so check in with him. I'm going to be taking the new guy, Shawn, with me to a break in at an investment firm down on Wall Street. Have a good day everyone. Stella, make sure you drink plenty of water today. I hear tequila really dehydrates a person."
Stella reached over and slapped at Danny. "Thanks for sharing that with him."
"Don't accuse me. I think he knows you too well. At least you weren't dancing on the tables like last time you did shots." Danny smirked and headed over to grab his jacket.
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The wind was blowing hard enough that the river had small white caps forming on the waves. A body was lying on the rocky shore behind a littered parking lot. Danny knelt and looked at the victim. Female, didn't look like she had been in the water long. Something to be thankful for, he hated the puffy flesh that accompanied a body that had been submerged for a long time. Lindsay was snapping photos of the angle of the body and the surrounding area. Danny looked up and glanced over a Flack, who was interviewing the man who had noticed the gulls flocking around the body. Gulls; damn scavengers. They hadn't had much chance to start tearing at the body, so it had washed to shore recently.
Flack walked back to the CSI's. Danny had noticed that his friend seemed to be distracted and slightly more acidic than normal. Flack had left the bar early last night, but at the time had seemed to be in a decent enough mood. Oh well, if he wanted to talk about something he would. Flack wasn't the type of guy who wanted to spill his guts about something any time he was upset with something.
"He didn't see anything and he doesn't recognize the girl. No surprise there. What you got so far Danny?" Flack's ever-present notebook was open.
Danny shook his head, "Hard to tell. We'll need to get her back and let Sid take a look at her to determine cause of death. I'll get her printed and we will see if we can find out who she is. No identification on her." This was the common scenario, most victims were unknown at the start.
"Ok, soon as you get something, let me know. I've got some other things to run down." Flack shut the notebook.
Danny was puzzled, they didn't know anything and Flack was going to run down leads. "I though the guy didn't know anything."
"Don't worry about it Messer. Let me do my job and you do yours." Flack snapped and turned to walk back to his car.
'Damn,' thought Danny. 'Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.'