“Sometimes. When Tanner makes me. I mean, I don’t really know the guy, you know? We had a druggie mother in common and that’s about it.”
“But Thomas calls?”
“Maybe like on Christmas or something. Mostly Tanner calls him. Sometimes he answers and sometimes he doesn’t. Tanner leaves messages. Thomas doesn’t return them.”
No hope of support there.
“Are any of your siblings married?”
Was there any family that could take this girl? To keep her out of the system?
“Nope. And if Tanner has his way, I won’t ever be married, either.”
Not liking the sound of that, Sedona made a mental note.
“So what makes Tanner angry with you?”
Tatum shrugged again.
“Tatum?” She waited for the girl to look at her. “I can’t help you if you aren’t honest with me.”
“That makes Tanner mad,” Tatum said. “When he thinks people are lying to him. But he lies all the time, you know? He says that he’s there for me, but he’s not. He’s always out in that precious vineyard of his, leaving me alone in that big old house. And when I try to find my own life, my own friends, and to be a part of their families, he gets mad and ruins everything.”
“Like what? Can you give me an example?”
“Like...I have a boyfriend.” Tatum’s entire countenance changed. The girl’s eyes brightened, her cheeks softened. “He loves me, Ms. Campbell. Me. He doesn’t care that I have druggie parents who took off. He doesn’t think I’m any less because of that.”
“And other kids do?”
Tatum’s eyes grew shadowed again. “Some do. They say things when they think I don’t know or can’t hear them. They did that to Thomas and Talia, too.”
“How do you know? I thought you and Thomas seldom speak?”
Maybe she spoke with her siblings more than she realized. Maybe they cared enough to step forward. Maybe Thomas had a significant other. Was part of a family Tatum could join.
“Talia told me. She said that I wasn’t supposed to listen to them. And that I wasn’t to let Tanner suffocate the life out of me, either.”
“She said that.”
“Yes.” Tatum nodded. “Exactly those words—not to suffocate the life out of me.”
It was tough to form a picture of a family, to get a realistic sense of the dynamics, in a half-hour conversation with a distressed teenager. And yet...she was hearing enough to know that Tatum’s problems were real.
“When did Talia tell you that?”
“The last time I spoke to her.”
“Was she living in Vegas then?”
“Yes.”
A stripper feeling she’d been suffocated? Because the older brother had tried to save his sister from a dangerous and potentially unhappy life choice?
For a second, Sedona pitied the man. A seemingly young man who’d had the well-being of three younger siblings thrust upon him.
He could be forgiven for making some mistakes.
Sitting solemnly on the bench beside her, Tatum shuddered and Sedona could only imagine what the girl was remembering.
Mistakes were forgivable. Hitting a defenseless fifteen-year-old girl was not.
“I asked you why you thought that if your brother had his way, you’d never get married.”
“Because he hates Del,” the girl said, her voice impassioned. “That’s my boyfriend,” she offered as an aside. “He went off on him on Sunday, and there was this huge fight. He says Del can’t ever come back, I can’t ever see him again and I’m not allowed to talk to him, either. He took my phone and left me with this flip thing with no data plan so I can’t even text.”
“Why doesn’t he like Del?”
Hands clasped tightly, Tatum shook her head. “Because he thinks we’re gonna sleep together, I guess. He caught us out in the barn.”
“Are you sleeping together?”
“No.” A new note entered the girl’s voice.
“Tatum, I’m not your judge. I’m the one who has to know the truth so I can best defend you.”
“We haven’t had sex,” Tatum said. “I’ve never... But he wants to. He was trying to talk me into trying it when Tanner suddenly showed up.”
“Do you want to?”
The darkening night was cool, but she and Tatum both had sweaters and were enclosed in a thick circle of trees surrounding the several-acre garden. The orange-and-golden California poppies on the outskirts of the garden hadn’t yet closed for the night.
“Yeah, I want to. Sorta. I mean, I want to be...you know...together and all. I just, I mean, Tanner’d kill me and...”
Sedona wasn’t a juvenile counselor. But being a family lawyer specializing in divorce and family arbitration meant that she often found herself in the role of counselor. She’d had some training.
She also remembered being fifteen....
And she had decisions to make. Every hour that law enforcement personnel were searching for Tatum, an endangered missing child who wasn’t missing at all, they were being taken away from other important work.
The scent from the flowering plants in the beds close by wafted around them. Sedona focused on those flowers for a moment, seeing some color but mostly shadows within the soft glow of strategically placed landscape lighting.
“Does Del know you’re here?”
“No.” Tatum shook her head. “I...” The girl’s voice faded and Sedona sensed her inner struggle.
“You love Tanner,” she said now. The brother might be overprotective. Was possibly abusive. But he’d been the only parent this girl had known.
“Sometimes, I guess.”
“And you love Del.” Or she thought she did.
“Yes. I do.” There was no doubt that Tatum believed the words. And maybe they were true. It wouldn’t be the first time a love that was born in high school lasted a lifetime.
She had to look no further than her own parents to see that.
“Does Del know that Tanner hit you?”
“No.” No hesitation there.
Time was of the essence. The bottom line was that Tatum had had the courage to reach out for help.
“Do you think Del is the one who reported you missing?”
“No. I messaged him on Facebook this morning to tell him I loved him and that I was leaving but I wouldn’t say where I was going. I didn’t want him to have to lie when his dad asked him about it.
“I know Tanner turned me in. It’s just like him. He did it to Talia, too, the first time she ran away. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that. I just found out the name of this place and then called a hotline to find out more about it and knew today was the only chance I’d have of getting here.” There was absolute conviction in Tatum’s reply.
“You mentioned the first time Talia ran away. There were more?”
“The second time she took off, she was eighteen and he couldn’t do anything. She’d left a note saying she was moving out so she wasn’t, like, in danger