For the Children

“Oh.”

Not quite the reaction he’d been expecting.

“He’s been withdrawn from Menlo Ranch.”

She was facing him, one knee resting against the stick shift. “That’s standard procedure when a child is taken into state custody. It’s best to transfer him from a place that isn’t serving him well to an environment where he can get a fresh start.”

“You sound as though you approve of this decision.”

“I’m sure that if indeed the courts removed him from his home, the decision was made with all due consideration.”

Well, at least now he knew she wasn’t the judge he was furious with.

“It’s the worst thing that could’ve happened to that kid!” He’d meant to keep the intensity out of his voice, but some habits apparently didn’t die.

Even when whole lives did.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CALMING HIMSELF with a skill created by years of discipline, Kirk noticed Valerie’s expression in the lights from an oncoming car. He’d expected compassion. Concern. What he got was—stoicism. “He wouldn’t have been removed without substantial evidence,” she said. He’d sure as hell called this one wrong.

When billion-dollar hostile takeovers were at stake he could get it right every time. But to save one relatively small boy…

“I’m sure there was evidence,” he said, scrambling for plan B. Caught unprepared. Something else that wouldn’t have happened during a negotiation. Kirk had never gone to an important meeting without at least six backup plans of varying degrees. “It was obvious the kid had problems,” he continued. “I’m not arguing that. It’s the approach to handling those problems to which I object. They took him away from the one thing that had a chance of saving him.”

“What’s that?”

“Basketball.”

Her sigh said it all. Or at least as much as he needed to hear. “The state has incredible facilities, Kirk, with highly trained professionals who will see that Abraham gets everything he needs.”

“He’s not going to respond to a bunch of professionals,” Kirk said, getting frustrated all over again as he tried to make her understand. “Abraham is far too closed off for that. He’s been there, done that, heard and seen it all—and doesn’t believe any of it.”

“I’ve seen them work miracles on kids a lot tougher than Abraham Billings.”

“He isn’t like most kids. He’s got more savvy, more insight than a lot of adults I know. I have a feeling he’s lived most of his life on instinct, and at this point, he’s positive that the only person he can trust is himself.”

“Even more reason for him to be in a place where people are watching out for him, showing him that there are people he can trust to look out for his best interests.”

Kirk released a long, heavy sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. How was he going to get her cooperation if he couldn’t even get her to see the truth? It was like talking to her about Brian and basketball all over again.

“Abraham had hope in nothing when I first met him,” Kirk said. “The change that came over that kid when he got on the basketball court was phenomenal to watch. He slowly started to believe that there was something to work for. Something that was good in life—something that could be his. Basketball was his ticket to college, to the hope of a better life.”

“He’s in junior high, Kirk. There’ll be plenty of time for that.”

“Not if he gives up the hope. Don’t you see? Abraham acts like a kid who’s always had everything that mattered taken away from him. This move only reinforces that belief. Not only did he lose his mother—whom he obviously adored—but he lost basketball, too. The chances that he’ll go back to it at some later point in his life are pretty slim. If for no other reason than because he’ll have quit believing in anything.

“And that aside, this kid who’s had a shit life finally finds something he loves, something for himself, something he’s good at, someplace to shine and get some positive attention. He’s no sooner beginning to gain some confidence from that than it’s snatched away from him.”

“Judges don’t make decisions like this lightly, Kirk,” Valerie said, her tone probably not as condescending as it sounded to him. “If Abraham is in custody, it’s because that’s exactly where he needs to be.”

Kirk knew all about judges and their decisions. Often made after reading a folder full of papers and seeing a kid for—what—five minutes? Maybe a little more, depending on how much there was to discuss.

“You sound as if you agree with this,” he said, quietly now. The Vette was too small for this conversation.

“I know all the judges in the juvenile court system. I trust them all. Completely.”

The day had gone from hellish to unbelievably hellish. “You judges are all alike,” he snapped, rejecting the truth even as he had to face it. He’d thought she was different. “You’re always playing God, thinking you know everything because you’re privy to a damn report. Thinking you automatically know what’s right in any given situation. Do you even know how arrogant you are?”