Dexter at Dawn

Chapter Four

Cody and Astor stared at their father as though he was a ghost. I noticed that they moved close together, holding each other as if for comfort. Judging from what I'd heard of their experiences of their father, I couldn't blame them. He'd been addicted to various drugs, as well as seriously alcoholic, and had beaten poor Rita mercilessly. Rita had also poured out money like water keeping him bailed out of jail again and again, often depriving her family of needed income. Their lives had been a chaos of abuse and neglect until the night when he finally went too far and Rita threw him out. Since he'd been in prison, their lives had improved immensely, and they really didn't want him back. Not as a father, not visiting, not at all.

I didn't like having him back, either. "I think you'd better leave, Paul," I said. "You lost parental rights some time ago, if memory serves."

"Rita's a fool," he sneered. "And she's in jail, soon to be in prison! Come along, Cody, Astor!" He gave them a stern look, and they cowered away. "I'll soon have you back under control!" I stepped between him and the children, and Cody and Astor stepped back, terror in their eyes.

He'd ignored Arya, who had watched all of these contretemps with cold, clinical eyes. Suddenly, she took action. She was standing between Paul and the children, giving Paul a glare. "Who are you, you little brat?"

"A girl is called Arya Stark. A girl does not think you should be here. A girl thinks you should leave. Now!" Arya's voice didn't hold a trace of fear, and she stood up to him as one equal to another. He stared at her like she was a cockroach that had developed human speech, and reached out to shove her aside.

I was about to intervene when Paul suddenly jumped backward with a howl. He was clutching one of his hands with the other, and I could see blood - ugh, awful stuff! - dripping between his fingers. "A girl warned you," Arya said. Her voice was as even as though she were ordering a sandwich at Cafe Relampango. "A girl learned how to take care of herself long before she came to Miami, Mr. Bennett."

Just then, a car came up, and Deborah got out. "Dexter?" Her eyes narrowed, and she went into her "work" face - the one I call "Our Lady of Perpetual Grumpiness." "Who is this person and why is he here? Is he bothering you?"

"A girl saw the whole thing," Arya told her. "Mr. Bennett was trying to take Cody and Astor, and Dexter was trying to stop him doing it. Then he was about to hit a girl."

Deborah whirled on Paul with fire in her eyes. "You're Paul Bennett, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah, I'm Paul Bennett! Who the hell are you, bitch? I'm here for my kids!"

There may be wronger ways to deal with Sergeant Deborah Morgan of the Miami-Dade Police than by addressing her as "bitch," but Dumfounded Dexter can't think of many, offhand. Cody, Astor and Arya were all equally flabbergasted. They looked at Deb like she was a volcano about to erupt.

Deb didn't disappoint. She stepped up and said, in calm, even tones that still dripped menace: "First off, I am Sergeant Deborah Morgan of the Miami-Dade Police. You may address me as 'Sergeant,' or 'Officer,' but not 'bitch.' This displeases me."

"Who cares what pleases or displeases you, cunt?" Paul sneered. Cody and Astor's eyes went even wider. They knew Deb, and knew that their father was busily twisting a rope around his neck for her to hang him with.

Deb's a seasoned cop, and knows better than to rise to verbal insults. "Well, anybody who wants to stay out of a jail cell cares about that, convict!"

Paul gave her a smug look. "Too bad for you that they overturned my conviction, then, isn't it? Legally, I'm as innocent as - as Dexter here is!" I saw a gleam of very dark humor in Deb's eyes, but nobody who didn't know her as well as I did would have spotted it. My Dark Passenger all but seemed to clap its hands at the thought of showing Paul Bennett just how innocent Disingenous Dexter really is. Alas, he did not yet fit the Code of Harry.

Yet.

Deb gave him a narrow-eyed glare. "Well, exonerated or not, you're on private property here. You weren't invited to be here, and I don't think you're welcome."

"He isn't, Aunt Sergeant!" Astor said, very firmly. "Mom didn't ever want to see him again! He beat me and Cody black and blue a whole bunch of times, and beat Mom even worse!" Paul whirled around and snarled at her, before remembering who it was he was talking to.

"Mr. Bennett, you are trespassing. Get off this property right now, or I'll haul you in." When Deb talks like that, even the toughest criminals tend to tremble and obey. Paul Bennett was not the toughest criminal in Florida, or even Miami. With a last glare of defiance, he turned and went back to his car. As he left, his shoulders slumped, as though he was sad. Maybe he really had missed Astor and Cody? I dismissed the thought with the contempt it deserved.

Once Paul had driven away, Deb turned her attention to us. "You all right? Did he do anything to you?" She noticed the knife in Arya's hand. "Hey, where did you get that knife?"

"A girl always carries knives," Arya answered, as deadpan as Cody and Astor themselves. "A girl is aware that there are larger, stronger people in this world that might wish to harm a girl. A girl finds that a well-handled knife will often discourage such people."

"Can't argue with that," Deb muttered. She looked grim for a second, and we exchanged glances. We'd both seen too many children who hadn't been able to successfully defend themselves. Some were injured, often, for life. Others were dead. I knew that Deb considered each of them a failure, both for her personally and for the Miami-Dade Police Department. "Even so, though, it'd be a good idea not to let people know that you have them. Carrying knives here is mostly against the law."

"A girl wants to know how women keep themselves from being raped, then," Arya said. She cocked her head to one side and looked up at Deb as though Deb were the Fount of All Wisdom that could answer her question. "When a girl was on her travels, a girl had her Needle, but she doesn't have it here."

"A needle?" This threw Deb off her balance. "You mean, like a sewing needle?" She gave Arya a skeptical look. She knew Arya did not lie directly, but she often did say things that needed clarification.

"A girl's brother, Jon Snow, gave her her Needle. It was a sword, of the right size for a girl to learn with. His first lesson was 'stick them with the pointy end,' and a girl had many occasions later on to bless her brother for his wisdom."

"Ohh-kay…" Deb said, shaking her head slightly. "I think there's a lot more to you than meets the eye, Arya. But I came to tell Dexter that I've been able to arrange seats for all of you on a flight to Charleston. It leaves in a couple of hours, so get busy packing for a few days' stay." We all ran into the house, getting out luggage and figuring out what we'd need.

Once we landed in Charleston, we were met at the airport by a Charleston police cruiser. "Hi! I'm Andy Wheeler. I was told to pick you up here."

"Good to meet you, Officer," I said. "I'm Dexter Morgan, Rita's husband. These are her children, Astor and Cody Bennett. And this is Arya Stark. We're her guardians."

"Welcome to Charleston, everybody. I wish it was under different circumstances." As we were being driven into the city, Wheeler proved to be a proud Charleston native, loving his city and very knowledgeable. I could see all three of my little predators-in-training soaking up every word he said, sifting it for information they could use.

At the city jail, we were searched. Luckily, I had remembered to warn Arya about knives and airport security before we got on the plane, so she had her blades safely stowed in her luggage. Once we were deemed clean, we were ushered into a room divided in two by a barrier. The top half of the barrier was bulletproof glass, and a telephone hand-set sat on a shelf. A chair sat next to the barrier, and there was another chair in the other side of the room, across the barrier.

Arya, Astor and Cody looked at this arrangement warily. "This is a visiting room, children," I explained. "Your mother will be on the other side of that wall, but we can see her and talk to her on this telephone."

Astor and Cody understood immediately. Arya visibly chewed that over for a couple of seconds, then nodded slowly. "A girl understands," she said. "A girl can see that these precautions are wise, with most people. But Rita is not most people."

"You know this, and I know this, Arya," I said. "But the police don't know this. To them, she's a suspected criminal, and they have to take the same precautions as they do with everybody else."

A police matron escorted Rita in. She was wearing an orange coverall and looked rather haggard. Her eyes lit up at the sight of us. "Astor! Cody! Dexter! Oh my God...I'm so happy to see you...I can't believe this happened to me...get me a lawyer!" Then her eyes lit on Arya, who was standing back, uncertain about what to do. "Oh, Arya! I'm so sorry...I didn't mean to leave you out...I love you too…" Arya's eyes went very wide, then she smiled.

"A girl loves all of you," she said. "A girl is very sad to see you in such a place." Cody and Astor both nodded. Plain as day, they were saying: Us too!

My Dark Passenger was whispering all sorts of intriguing suggestions into my inner ear, about what I could do about the situation. Regrettably, my lack of familiarity with Charleston and my lack of access to the Charleston PD's computer systems limited my options.

Back in Miami, I could have looked up the case and got the facts I needed in a few hours at most. With my mastery of the Miami-Dade PD's computer system, it would be an easy job. Then the Dark Passenger and I could figure out what to do next.

But I had no such access to the Charleston PD's computers. I was also unfamiliar with Charleston. I knew Miami very well, having lived there all my life. But this was my first trip to Charleston.

Astor picked up the telephone, telling Rita: "Yes, Mom...everything's fine. Dexter's taking good care of all of us. Cody's just fine, and Arya's being good. Oh, you want to talk to Arya?" She turned and gestured Arya over. "Come here, Arya. Mom wants to talk to you."

"Hello, Rita. A girl is glad to see you again, but a girl wishes it were under other circumstances." Arya was nearly as deadpan as Cody and Arya, which didn't faze Rita one bit. She was used to her own children, and while none of us knew a lot about Arya's background, we knew enough to know that she'd also had a very rough time.

Rita gave us a haggard smile. "I wish it were under other circumstances, too." For Rita, that was unusual: coherent, and very much to the point. Was Arya being a good influence? I'd noticed that Arya didn't talk much, and only when she had something specific she wanted to say. She was like Cody and Astor that way. Neither of Rita's children was much for talk, and Cody hardly spoke at all.

Astor spoke up: "Dad came by the house. He wanted to take me and Cody away. He tried to shove Arya, but Arya cut him. Aunt Sergeant Deborah showed up and ran him off."

Rita's eyes went wide with horror. "Oh, my God! I hadn't heard...how did he get out of prison...what can we do?"

"I don't know, Rita," I said. "I'd thought you'd got his parental rights taken away when you divorced him. But neither of us expected him to get out of prison anytime before the children were grown."

"I did...but I've heard the courts like to 'reunite families'...oh, God, if they convict me...Dexter, do something...can you, for the love of God...oh, God, get me out of here!" She began to cry. "I miss my family! I want my children! And Arya, and Dexter! Get me out of here!"

"We're working on it!" At the words "Dexter, do something!" Duty-bound Dexter snapped out of his slumber and reported in. Unfortunately Disoriented Dexter doesn't know a lot about family law.

"We're doing all we can," I assured Rita. I don't have feelings...monsters don't have feelings...but I was upset at seeing Rita cry. "I don't know who to talk to here, but we'll find you a good lawyer. Down in Miami, Deb is doing all she can to help. She's got friends who have contacts on the Charleston police and they'll know who to recommend."

"Oh, thank God...Dexter, you're an angel…" Just then, the jail matron came in.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Morgan, but time's up." Rita got up to go, but as she left, she gave us a look of pure longing. Cody and Astor both started to tear up, and even Arya looked upset as they waved good-bye."

"Come along, kids," I told them, wondering why my vision was suddenly blurry. "Let's go get something to eat and figure out our next move."

"Goodbye, Mom!" Astor and Cody chorussed. Arya didn't say anything, but the set of her mouth told me that she was thinking, very hard.

Sergeant Wheeler was glad to recommend a good barbeque restaurant. "That's one of Charleston's specialties! We love a good barbeque!" I was more than ready to eat, and the aromas that drifted out into the street were tantalizing. I noticed, to my amusement, that the junior predators were just as entranced by the odor as I was.

Soon we were tucking into some absolutely exquisite barbeque. I'd made sure we had plenty of napkins, but even so, grease was hard to escape. Astor and Cody were having some trouble keeping clean, but Arya was able to dodge the grease with no problem. As she took a bite, she gave us a rare smile. "A girl remembers food like this," she told us. "A girl ate this sort of thing in Braavos."

"What's Braavos?" asked Astor. I'd wondered what that word meant, myself. Cody, as usual, didn't say anything, but I could see that he was interested in the answer, too. When Arya wasn't around, I had heard Rita and Astor wondering about her past.

"Braavos," Arya said, "is a city in the world a girl was born in." Her expression grew nostalgic. "A girl was very happy while she was there. That is where a girl learned many things. For a while, a girl was called 'Cat of the Canals,' and sold cockles, mussels and oysters along the canals. It was part of a girl's education."

"Sounds like a fascinating place," I said, hoping to get more information. The more I was around Arya, the more I believed that she did come from a whole other world. The stories she told were consistent and coherent, which wouldn't have been the case if she were lying.

"While a girl was 'Cat of the Canals,' a girl was required to report in to her real home, the House of Black and White, where her mentor waited. Every month, a girl was required to tell her mentor three new things she had learned. Sometimes, it was three words of Braavosi, the language of Braavos. Other times, it was things a girl had heard or seen. A girl learned many things, going around selling cockles, oysters and mussels. Nobody paid her particular attention."

"Here, we do it with a clipboard," I put in. "An adult, dressed neatly and with a clipboard in his or her hands, can go nearly anywhere and ask questions and nobody will think to wonder about him or her having other motivations."

All three of my little predators-in-training nodded solemnly, and I could see them filing that useful little tidbit of information away in their minds, to be used when the time was right. I smiled to myself. I had found that being a teacher, particularly of what I really did best, was very satisfying.

Just then, the dessert menus came, and I passed them out. As I looked over the selections of ice cream, pastries and other yummies, I licked my lips. I may be an inhuman, soulless monster, fit only for a seat in Old Sparky, but I do love sweets. So did Cody, Astor and Arya.

We rented a car and checked into a motel. I took two rooms. One for me and Cody, one for Astor and Arya. Arya didn't understand why I did that. "A girl can room in with you," she said. "When a girl was on her travels, privacy was unknown, and a girl was the only girl traveling with her group."

"Yes, Arya," I said, "but here, it's different. People would think that I was doing wrong things with you and Astor if you roomed with me and Cody."

"He's right," Astor said. "People these days are absolutely paranoid about child molesters. Dexter's never laid a finger on me, but some of my teachers are always telling me that I can come to them if he ever does, and asking me if he looks at me wrong, or acts funny around me."

"Oh." Arya visibly chewed that over. "Where a girl came from, unless a girl was of noble blood, nobody cared what happened to her. A girl thinks she likes this place a lot better, even though some of the things they do here strike a girl oddly."

The next morning, we had an appointment with a lawyer. Deb had tapped the cop network and had found us a lawyer with a lot of experience dealing with this sort of case. Ms. Taliaferro turned out to be a very nice lady with a lovely Low Country accent. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Morgan, Astor, Cody, and...Arya?" She looked puzzled for a minute, then looked down at her notes. "Oh! You're that girl that Mr. Morgan found adrift off the Miami coast!" She gave Arya a lovely smile. "Welcome to America, Miss Stark. I hope this sad business doesn't give you a bad impression of our Palmetto State."

"A girl has been treated very well since she came here. A girl traveled far enough in the world she came from to have a good basis of comparison. And a girl likes it much better here."

The lawyer looked slightly startled. Astor spoke up: "That's just the way Arya talks. Don't pay her any mind, Ms. Taliaferro." Being Southern-born and from Southern parents, Astor pronounced her name right, as "Tolliver."

Ms. Taliaferro smiled again. "Well, Mr. Morgan, based on what I've been able to find, we can make a pretty good case that your wife was set up somehow. That car wasn't hers, but a rental, and she has no criminal history with drugs." A shadow crossed her face. "Unfortunately, there are allegations that she was involved with them heavily during her first marriage."

At these words, my Dark Passenger sat up and took notice, and I could tell that Astor, Cody and Arya felt the same way. Could this be Paul Bennett's work, somehow?

"Rita's first husband was a heavy drug user, Ms. Taliaferro," I said. "He was serving time for abusing Rita and the children, as well as possession of cocaine and methamphetamine with intent to sell. We just found out a few days ago that he was released."

"Yes, he was," said Ms. Taliaferro, looking through some more papers. "It turned out that there were severe flaws in the prosecution's case, and an appeals court threw the conviction out. He was released a couple of weeks ago." Plenty of time, in other words, to plot his revenge on the wife who had "betrayed" him. While in prison, he could have easily made contacts who'd have been happy to help set the whole thing up. I made a mental note to ask Deb to check over whom he'd been likely to be in contact with while in the slam.

About the only thing I couldn't figure out was why he did it in Charleston. I'd have thought that Miami would have been an easier place to do it in. Rita didn't take more than the usual precautions with her car, so an experienced car thief could easily have got it open and slipped a package into the trunk or under the passenger seat. Even I could have done it, had I not had access to her car keys. I'd hid in my playmates' cars' rear seats more than once, before coming forth to take them for their last Dark Dance with the Dark Passenger.

"All in all," Ms. Taliaferro said, "I think we have a good chance. A lot depends on the judge we get, though. Some of our local judges are extremely intolerant of narcotics and come down harshly on any defendants accused of drug violations." This worried me. Given the ongoing state of legal hysteria on the subject of drugs, poor Rita could be convicted and sentenced to prison for years, no matter her actual innocence. I didn't know what South Carolina's drug-possession laws were like and made a mental note to look them up.

It occurred to me that this would seem like a perfect revenge to someone like Paul Bennett. He'd get back at the wife who'd rejected him, send her into the prison hell he'd had to endure, and get "his" children back. Unfortunately, I'd never adopted Astor and Cody, and he could conceivably have his "parental rights" restored by a court now that he was officially a free man again. While anybody who knew the facts would know why this was a very bad idea, that old whore, Florida Justice, was not known for the rationality of her thinking.

Our time with Ms. Talliferro was just about up, so I accepted a bundle of papers showing the facts of the case as they currently stood, gathered my little predators, and got out of there. All three of the children looked very disturbed.

I tried to comfort them. "Look, kids, it's not all bad. We've got a good chance of getting your mother sprung."

"But what if something goes wrong?" Astor asked. "We've heard of trials going badly wrong and the wrong person being freed or sent to prison." Cody nodded, agreeing with his sister as he always did. Arya just looked very, very grim, staring off into the distance. I didn't know what Arya was thinking about, and decided that I didn't want to know. She deserved her privacy.

"We can only do our best for her," I told Astor. "Come on, kids. It's about time for lunch, and we can figure out what to do next over a meal." I noticed that the mention of food perked all three of my little disciples up noticeably. They were all growing children and needed nourishment as much as Dexter does.