shook his head. “No. She’s in the last stages of lung cancer. That’s why she let Nicole take the boy.”
“Are there any other relatives?”
Dale rubbed his jaw. “I haven’t had time to check. Our workload is bursting at the seams. CPS will handle it.”
“Do you mind if I lend a hand? I want to make sure Brady finds a good home.”
“Heck, no. That little boy needs all the help he can get.”
Tuck thought the same thing. “Do you have any info on Nicole or the men in the trailer?”
“We’ve received calls there before. The guy, Cliff Davis, is a small-time drug dealer with a temper. The calls were about drug deals and twice about him beating Nicole, but she refused to press charges. My officers interviewed a few neighbors and they said there was a steady stream of guys going into the trailer. They knew something wasn’t right, but didn’t want to get on Davis’s bad side.”
“Did no one think about Brady, an innocent kid in the middle of that environment?”
“Evidently not. Sad, isn’t it?” The sergeant checked his watch. “I’ve got to get to the station. Thanks again for your help yesterday.”
They shook hands again. “No problem.”
Tuck took the elevator to the pediatric ward. Opal was at the nurses’ station so he walked over to her.
“Ranger Tucker.” She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and handed a file to a nurse. “I was just fixing to call you.” Opal’s dark hair was threaded with gray and the lines on her face denoted a life of toil and anguish—all given selflessly.
“How’s Brady?” he asked.
“Know his name, do you?”
“I met Sergeant Scofield in the lobby.”
She sighed. “This one slipped through the cracks.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nicole Harper has been in the system for a while and we slipped up. After the last visit, the caseworker filed for a random drug check. She suspected something wasn’t right, but she became ill about three weeks ago. No one was reassigned to Nicole’s case and the test wasn’t done. This is unacceptable.”
Tuck liked this woman. Fighting for children was her top priority. “What’s the story on Nicole Harper?”
“She was raised by a single mom and had a pretty normal childhood until she got into high school. Then she started doing drugs and finally dropped out. She went to work at a fast-food place and got involved with the manager. When she became pregnant, she tried to stay clean, but right before Brady was born the boyfriend, Braden Hollis, died in an auto accident. Nicole spiraled out of control then. Wilma, her mother, couldn’t handle her. Nicole delivered Brady and quickly got back with her old friends and the drug scene. CPS took Brady away from her when a motel clerk called and reported her for prostitution and doing drugs with the baby in the room. Wilma was granted temporary custody.”
“Didn’t CPS try to get her some help?”
Opal touched his face. “You sweet man, I bet you believe in fairy tales, too.”
“What’s wrong in believing there’s a better life? Sometimes it just takes one person to accomplish that.”
“Nicole Harper got hooked on drugs fast and furious and that’s all she thought about—how to get more drugs.”
“Still…”
“She was offered help many times. She always refused. Six months in jail changed her some. When she got out, all she wanted was her kid. Wilma was battling lung cancer and thought Nicole had changed. But it wasn’t long before she was back with the old crowd. It’s hard to break that cycle once it starts.”
“Why wasn’t Brady taken into custody then?”
“Did I mention that Nicole is a very good liar and knew how to put on a show? I love my kid. My kid is the most important part of my life. Yada. Yada. Yada. Once the caseworker leaves, she’s hitting the bars looking for guys and drugs. And the kid is usually left home by himself, or worse, taken along. We just never could catch her at it—until it was too late. We have so many cases it’s difficult to keep a constant vigil on these girls.”
Tuck knew that. It was just a sad scenario that the kids were the ones who paid. “How’s Brady this morning?”
“He was so violent in the E.R. that they had to sedate him. He was just scared. They checked his vitals, started an IV and did blood work. Nobody knows how long he’s been neglected and we have no idea what he’s been eating. He could have even been drinking from the toilet.”
Tuck winced.
“I’ve seen it before. He may only be fourteen months old but even at that age a kid fights for survival. He could have digested nonfood items, even toxic items. They’re testing for drug exposure, anemia and lead poisoning. The main concern was dehydration, so that’s the reason for the IV. They want to keep his electrolytes under control. Since his sores are infected, they’ve started a round of antibiotics through the IV.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
“I’m on my way to talk to Wilma. I know she won’t be able to take him, but there might be a relative who wants to raise him.” Opal threw the strap of her big purse over her shoulder. “How would you like to come with me, Ranger Tucker? Get an up close and personal view of life’s real fairy tales.”
“I’d love to, but first I’d like to take a look at Brady, if that’s okay.”
“Sure. Follow me.”
They walked across the hall to a room full of baby beds. A large glass window gave the nurses a clear view of each crib from the nurses’ station. Two nurses were attending to the needs of children with various ailments. Opal stopped at a bed against the wall.
Tuck removed his hat and stared down at Brady. He lay on his stomach, completely naked except for a small blanket covering his upper body. His bottom was bloodred and had ointment spread over it.
“They’ll put a diaper on him as soon as he wakes up,” Opal said. “They’ve debrided his wounds and applied a barrier cream.”
Brady’s hair had been shaved off and Tuck saw the infected sores on his scalp, too. He fought the anger churning in his stomach.
Opal glanced at him. “They had to shave his head to clean the sores and remove dead tissue. There are sores between his toes, too. It had been a while since he’d had a bath.”
Tuck kept staring at the little boy. He slept peacefully, as a baby should. At that moment Tuck vowed that Brady would have a decent home and never be neglected again.
WILMA HARPER LIVED in the projects on a cul-de-sac. Tuck parked his car and followed Opal inside the brick duplex. A neighbor and a hospice nurse were there. Wilma sat in a recliner with an oxygen tank beside her, gasping for every breath. She’d been told of her daughter’s
