Little Lamb Lost Read Online Free PDF Page A

indeed learned that Jefferson County DHS may have been involved with
this child’s family. However, County Director Dr. Teresa Pope issued a
statement earlier that they are unable to confirm or deny their role in this
case, or to comment on an ongoing police investigation.” He consulted his
notes. “Furthermore, a Birmingham Police Department spokesperson said that a
cause of death has yet to be determined and is still under investigation. An
autopsy scheduled for tomorrow will give the police more information about what
could have led to this terrible tragedy. Back to you, Kathleen.”
    I muted the sound as Kathleen went to a
story about the City Council. My jaw relaxed. Okay, so far so good. My name
wasn’t mentioned, and they weren’t verbally crucifying Ashley. Yet.
    Dad interrupted my thoughts. “Did I ever
tell you about the time one of my clients committed suicide?”
    I looked at him, surprised. Dad was a
psychologist, semiretired. His practice, founded when I was about Michael’s
age, had thrived for years, but now he kept only a few clients in his caseload.
“When?”
    “Oh, about twenty years ago. You were
about ten or so. Your mother was still living. The thing was, I knew this guy
was going to do it. I got him committed to a psychiatric hospital and he stayed
three days. The day after he left, he wrote a note to say good-bye to his
family and shot himself in the head.”
    “God.”
    “I was terrified I could’ve done more to
prevent it. Terrified his family was going to sue me. They never did, but I
stayed up nights going over everything, making sure I’d done everything I was
supposed to.”
    “Yeah, but my kid didn’t kill himself.
He was only two.”
    “I know, but my point is that sometimes
you do everything right and things still go horribly wrong. Things you don’t
have control over.”
    “Tell me about it.”
    Dad got up and lifted me with two hands
out of the chair. He wrapped his arms around me in a reassuring hug. “So don’t
beat yourself up about this too bad, okay?”
    “I’ll try. I’m going home. I’m sensing a
bubble bath in my near future.”
    “You don’t want something to eat? I’ve
got some veggie burgers in the freezer or some tofu.” Dad was a part-time
vegetarian. Vegetarian until someone mentioned the words “bacon cheeseburger.”
Either way, his cooking was atrocious.
    “No, thanks, I’ve got stuff at home.” I
did feel better. Dad’s talk helped. That and the Tylenol.
    At home I sank into a peony-scented tub
for an hour. I tried to read, to distract myself from thoughts of Michael and
Ashley and what could have caused this tragedy. It didn’t work. Visions of
Michael’s body, lying on the cold linoleum, crept into my mind between every
paragraph. I gave it up and went to bed, tossing and turning myself into a
nightmare world where I was in a sailboat with drowning children all around me.
And I didn’t have a single life preserver.
    I snapped awake at five thirty, and
despite the sleep my eyes felt gritty and tired, like I hadn’t rested at all.
    I went to work and as my fellow
caseworkers trickled in, managed to focus on my court reports and filing. As
soon as it was nine o’clock I called Nona. She said Ashley had a rough night,
but she was trying to find things to keep her busy. Then I left and went to
Dazzle’s.

 
    Dazzle Martin’s house was within walking
distance of East Lake Park, named after the large body of water in the center,
and I remembered as I drove past how Michael had loved to feed the ducks. I
could feel my eyes start to sting. Falling apart now would do no good. I buried
my feelings about his death as I turned onto Dazzle’s street and shut the car
off in front of her house.
    Technically, I suppose Dazzle’s little
enterprise could have qualified as a day care. During the morning she watched
four preschool-aged children, and a couple of older kids joined them in the
afternoon. Getting her day care license, however, would