Okay, maybe nothing that drastic, but Jayden was ready to deliver whatever the sexy prosecutor needed. Domestic violence was an insidious disease that had to be wiped out.
“There are several different tools we use in assessing risk. One is something we call a ‘risk indicator,’ which is a list of nineteen conditions that could lead to a domestic violence death. If a suspect exhibits at least eight of these indicators, the team at least looks at the case. We then put it through a couple of other assessments,” she noted. “Of those that come out with high scores, we form an individualized plan of action to keep the victim, or victims, safe. From frequent drive-bys, school monitoring and counseling, to removing them from sight and giving them alternative living situations if need be. Everyone in the victim’s life who could play a part is put on alert, if necessary.”
Made good sense. He liked it. A lot. Was seriously wondering if the team had room for a parole officer. If he had time to be of good use to them. Some of his offenders had the potential to turn violent, and most had families. If he reported concerns, perhaps he could help make a difference in a new way. Might help his personal résumé—the one only he was privy to—in the second chance department.
“I have someone I’d like to refer to the team as a potential assailant,” he said, starting to sit forward until his ribs reminded him that he’d rather not. “A recent parolee,” he continued, barely noting the stab of pain.
She looked surprised and...really interested.
“Tell me about him,” she said, her eagerness to hear what he had to say openly evident.
“He was in for assault with a deadly weapon,” he said, gaining momentum as pieces came together. This was how the world was supposed to work—bringing the right means together at the right time, to make things happen.
“Nearly killed some guy in a bar for saying something to his wife as he passed.”
She frowned but said, “Go on.”
Yeah, it wasn’t a pretty tale. And unfortunately Jayden was struggling to see possibility of a better ending.
“He’s been out a week and called last night to tell me that his young daughter is in the hospital and asking for him. Said his ex-wife, who’d divorced him while he was in prison, had called, asking if he could just stop by the hospital for a visit. They’re up north, and conditions of his release prevent him from leaving Santa Raquel County.”
Her frown deepened as she glanced at the file in front of her and then back at him. “Are you asking for a motion for temporary travel allowance?”
“No.” He shook his head. “Not at all. I told him he couldn’t go. And then I called his ex. She hasn’t spoken to him since he was arrested. She’d already taken a restraining order out on him and had filed for divorce. And his daughter is fine. Hasn’t been in the hospital since she was born. Apparently he beat up on his ex but left the girl alone.”
Thank God for those huge favors that came along.
“You think he’s going to go anyway.”
“So does she. Said she was going in for another restraining order.”
“They aren’t as effective in these cases as we’d like them to be.”
“Which is why I called law enforcement in her area and alerted them to the possible danger to both her and her daughter, but I wasn’t satisfied that it was enough. I’d rest a whole lot easier if she had an individualized plan...if people could be put into action to help her...”
Emma picked up a pen, pulled a pad toward her. “We don’t have jurisdiction outside Santa Raquel, but I can make some calls, see if they have a team in her area, and if nothing else, get the local shelter involved, even if just by offering the ex-wife some counseling and being on alert. Since it’s summer, there’s no need to notify the school, but if she’s in some kind of summer program or day care, and if there’s security wherever the ex-wife works...the team’s whole mission is prevention—trying to bridge the gap that only allows law enforcement and justice to step in after the fact. Hopefully we can help.”
The woman was remarkable. Her job was to prosecute crimes, not to tend to victims. And yet, she seemed to find a way to do both. And her work ethic...anyone who had anything to do with the prosecutor’s office knew how many hours she put in. He sat there in awe, truly impressed. Even after he realized he was staring at her.
“Wha
t?”
“You...this isn’t even your first area of responsibility and you’re like... I’m impressed, that’s all.”
She shrugged—and he was kind of thinking he saw a bit of red on her cheeks, too. “I had a case that lead me to the team,” she said. “And now I’m committed to them. In cities where teams have been implemented, there’ve been marked decreases in DV deaths. Marked. In one city, at least, they’ve been completely eradicated since the team was formed.”
The passion that poured out of her as she spoke was unmistakable. And lead him to wonder if she was personally involved with someone who’d suffered abuse. He almost asked.
“I need her name,” she said. “And the name of your parolee.”
Right. Back on track.
He gave the names of Luke and his wife, and their addresses, too, after bringing them up on his phone.
“I’ll make some calls as soon as we’re done here.”
“You said you had a case to discuss with me,” he said, remembering. “And then I lay one on you. I’m sorry.”