Dawn of Ciaerra II

"Are you sure?" Jess asked, although she knew Tara was.

"Yes. That is Ciaerra. Now do you believe me?"

"I always did. Thank you." Jess took the laminated paper and left the institution.

Police went to Rich's workplace and arrested him, Jess went to Ciaerra's home and arrested Tammy. They both ended up in separate interrogation rooms at the San Francisco office.

xxxxx

"Your wife was abusing one of your four children. You knew of it and did nothing. That is four counts of Child Endangerment. Then your wife killed one of your children and you still left the other three alone with them. That is three more counts of Child Endangerment. You are also facing obstruction and accessories charges. Not to mention the kidnapping."

Rich's lawyer let him know that Jess was telling the truth. "What are you offering?"

"All charges, except the kidnapping, dropped, if you give me a full confession."

So, in exchange for just twenty years on one count of the kidnapping of Dawn Knight, Rich Bell told the police where to find Ciaerra. Only when police reached the site where Rich and Tammy dumped their abducted child, police didn't find a body. They found a very injured, but very much alive child.

xxxxx

"Good day, huh?" Nicole said as she and Jess walked to their cars. "How did you know Dawn was alive?"

"I didn't, but I figured the sooner we could get to her, the better."

"It paid. Tammy is going to be in prison for the rest of her life, and the state is going to give Tara the help that she needs. In a few months she'll get custody of Richy, Sarah Anne, and Brooklyn. And Dawn is going to see her parents for the first time in four years."

xxxxx

Early October 2011. It had been three days since Jacob Behren's death, and no one, other than friends of the Behren family even knew he was dead. Only Deborah and Roger Hall and the children of the Preschool Room knew he was murdered.

"Sheriff's office," Bert Harris answered his phone. The sheriff's mouth hung open as he listened to the medical examiner, who had just done Jacob's autopsy, tell him that Jacob didn't have an asthma attack on that day. He was suffocated.

"It's a homicide, Sheriff. I'm sure of it."

"Thank you," was all he could say as he hung up.

Bert met his two deputies at the library and told them what he had learned.

"You want us to go in there and arrest them, Sir?"

"No. We're going to need all three cars to transport the children down to the station. I want to speak to them before I have to call social services.

The sheriff was very vague on his reasoning, but he told the Halls to go home, that he and his deputies would phone the parents to come and pick up the children at the station, and so three cops loaded surprisingly calm, quiet children into their vehicles and took them away.

xxxxx

All the children were entertained by the deputies while Bert took them one by one into his office. Four-year-old Alexandra Davis was first. She would be silent and shake her head to every question.

"Did you see what happened to Jacob? No? Did somebody hurt him? Do you want a soda or some cookies, both? No? Okay. I know somebody hurt Jacob because a doctor told me. Tell me who hurt Jacob." He sighed. "You can go now."

Sheriff Bert Harris had no information on how to question children. He had policed a small town his entire career. This was the worst crime he had ever seen. Needless to say, his inexperience was evident.

Next in Bert's office was four-year-old Olivia Garrett.

"How are you today, Olivia?"

"Good," she replied diffidently.

"You're probably wondering why you're here. Well, I got a call from a doctor, who told me that Jacob did not die by accident. Somebody hurt him. Will you help me? Tell me who did it."

"No."

"All you have to do is tell me who it was and you can go. I'll call your mommy right now."

"I don't know who."

Brendan Frasier had just turned five years old, but his birthday fell past the deadline, so he was not going to start Kindergarten until the following year. Therefore, Brendan was still in the Preschool Room, and now, in the sheriff's office.

"Have a cookie."

"Thank you."

"How would you like to be a junior cop?"

"Yes!"

"It's easy. All you have to do is help me put bad guys in jail by telling me who they are."

"Okay."

"Tell me what happened at daycare the day Jacob died."

Brendan's smile ceased as he spoke plainly. "He had a asthma attack."

"He did have Asthma, but the doctors told me that's not how he died. This is the most important thing about being a junior cop. Who hurt Jacob?"

"I don't know."

Finally the tired cop was going to catch a break, thanks to three-year-old Chloe Pierson.

"Chloe, what happened on the day Jacob died?"

"Ms. Deb hit him."

Surprised and glad to get a straight answer, he proceeded. "What else happened there?"

He meant in regard to Jacob, but Chloe thought he meant everything that ever happened there.

"Me and Sydney had to go to the bathroom with Roger. Deborah gave everybody spankings because we played too loud. Jacob wouldn't take his nap, so he had to go to timeout. You know what happens then?"

He was almost afraid to ask. "What?"

"Tape on your mouth and on your arms and on your feet. Then you go in the suppie closet."

"Supply closet?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Did Jacob go in the closet the day he died?"

Chloe nodded affirmatively.

He called to remembrance Kelsey Smith's statement and began to see his career tank. "What happened when Roger brought you into the bathroom?"

"He hurts us. He hurt Sydney. She cried once. I never cried, but I was scared."

"How did he hurt you?"

"He touches our private parts," she whispered.

"Do you remember Kelsey?"

"Yes."

"Did Roger hurt her too?"

"Yes."

"Any other girls?"

"All of them."

With the knowledge of who probably killed Jacob, Bert moved on to the sexual abuse allegations. He called three-year-old Sydney Pratt into his office.

"Somebody told me that Mr. Roger hurt you. Is that true?"

Sydney shook her head.

"Did Deborah ever hurt you?"

"No."

Three-year-old Madison Massey was next.

"Has Roger or Deborah ever put you in timeout?"

"No."

"Has Roger or Deborah ever hurt you?"

"No."

"Did you see anyone else get hurt by them?"

"No."

The sheriff knew when to call it quits. If he was going to get an allegation, like with Chloe, it would come soon enough. Some children had nothing to say, others, like two-year-old Liliana Klass, had plenty.

"Deborah hit me," the child said when asked about the teacher.

"Why?"

"When I'm bad."

"Are you toilet trained…potty trained?"

"Yes."

"Do you go in the bathroom with Roger?"

"No…Sometimes."

"Does he hurt you?"

"No."

"But Deborah does. She hits you?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell your mommy?"

"No. If I tell Mommy, then Ms. Deborah, you know what she does to kids that tell?"

"What?"

"She comes into your room and hides in your closet or under your bed and when your Mommy and Daddy are asleep, she takes you away forever."

"But you told me."

"She won't know I told you."

Zachary Cortez, age three, was the second to last to be interviewed.

"Kids have been telling me a lot of bad things that Roger and Deborah do."

"Not me."

"You're not gonna tell me?"

"No way."

"Did Deborah hurt you too?"

"Nope. I won't tell."

"Why not?"

Silence.

"What can you tell me?"

"Nothin'."

"Why?"

"I don't want to get in trouble. No more questions!"

Four-year-old Nathan Massey was his usual rambunctious self, running around the office.

"You got a lot of energy."

"I'm a bad boy."

"What happens when you're bad at daycare?"

No reply.

"Does anyone hurt you at daycare?"

No reply.

"Are you gonna answer any of my questions?"

"No."

Josh entered the office holding a chubby baby that just turned two. He was Jordan "Jordie" Casey.

"This one doesn't talk, Sir."

"All right. Call the parents."