A young girl arrived home. She had been out with her big sister from the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program. She always had so much fun she truly hated coming home. Sixteen year old Quinn Kostana looked around the house searching for signs that her foster mother was home. Relieved she was not, Quinn went inside and locked herself into her room. {Life isn't supposed to be like this.} she thought.
Her parents were both dead and she lived with Shena Liviad, her foster mother. She turned on her radio to her favourite jazz station and laid on her bed, eyes closed, letting the soft tune float into her consciousness. that was HER time, when nothing was wrong in her life. Her parents weren't dead and her foster mother didn't beat her.
Twenty minutes later, Quinn heard Shena enter the house. SHe rechecked that she had locked her door, knowing that her foster mother would be drunk. Shena drew closer and began pounding on Quinn's door. Quinn hid in a tiny space quaking at the thought of what she knew would inevitably happen. The pounding got louder and finally Shena broke the door down. She pulled Quinn up to her and glared. "Don't ever lock me out! Do you understand?" Quinn nodded and grimaced as she took notice that Shena reeked of liquor. "You were out with that bitch Rita again weren't you?" Her daughter just stood there looking at her, too scared to speak. "Answer me!" Shena screamed. She grabbed Quinn by her hair and punched her.
"Yes ma'am."
"You tell her, you are none of her business and to leave you alone." Quinn nodded again. Shena grabbed her belt and whipped Quinn across the back several times. After a while, Shena drunkenly staggered out of the room, leaving the girl sprawled out on her bed semi-conscious.
Rita woke up to the sun shinging in her bedroom. She knew it was going to be a beautiful day. She reached over to kiss Chris good morning, only to find that he was not in bed. "Ok... maybe not so great after all." she giggled. Suddenly she heard a noise that sounded like a herd of elephants running up the stairs. She smiled as twin four year olds True and Faith ran inside the room and jumped up onto their mommy's bed.
"Mommy," True began, "Amita is hungry, she wants blueberry pancakes with blueberry syrup."
Faith added, "She also wants plain pancakes with strawberry syrup."
"Oh does she now? How strange that she wants your favourites. I guess while I make Amita all of those pancakes, I'll just give you guys some Raisin Bran." she chuckled knowing full well that the twins despised raisins.
"uh huh! Mommy, we want that, not Amita." pleaded True.
"I know. Go downstairs and I'll be down in a minute." The girls scrambled the stairs. Rita had to laugh. The twins were already trying to blame their month old sister on things. Plus, even if Amita had not been only a month old, the fact that the twins each gave their favourite breakfast choice, would have given them away anyways.
Chris and Rita had named the new baby Amita Elena. They had come up with Amita by choosing a quality of their relationship (as they had with Faith and True), Love. They took the spanish word for love, amor, and used the suffix "-ita" which was an ending attached to a loved one's name to indicate affection towards that person. Elena just seemed to fit and it was one of the few names left that were not the names of girls Chris had dated in the past, Rita had teased. So the newest addition to the family was Amita Elena Lorenzo. Chris had teased her that the next time they had to have a boy, according to probability. Rita was satisfied for now. She had her handsful with three children and a career as one of the best homicide detectives Palm Beach had to offer. Plus, now she had the proverbial "traditional" family with a husband and the "2.5" children. Now all she needed was a cat. {Nah...}she thought to herself. They would only eat my fish.}
SHe dressed and walked down the stairs. Chris had already begun to cook the pancakes. "Hi sweetheart." she leaned over and kissed the love of her life.
"Hi there" he replied. "How was your day yesterday?"
"It was fantastic. I went skating with my Little Sister and we had a blast. Her foster mother is extremely wealthy and high society but the kid's got a lot of problems. Something doesn't seem right for her at home. I always hate taking her back.
"Sounds like a rough life for a kid."
"Yeah. She told me her foster mother forced her to break up with her boyfriend."
"That's terrible."
"Anyways, I'm taking her out again tonight. Just for dinner. Then I'll be back to spend time with my four favourite people."
Chris and Rita planned on staying home that day and relax with the girls. Traci, the nanny, had moved into the guestroom. SHe was going to sleep in and then join in on any fun that was going on when she woke up. After breakfast, Harry Lipshitz, their captain, beeped them both, just in case one of them had turned their pagers off. Rita called him back. "Hey Cap! What's up?"
"I've got a DB for you. A young girl around 15 or so."
"No way Cap! Today's our day off. What about Cassie and Tom?"
"They've got a case of their own, in case you've forgotten who you assigned to what cases."
"Great. What's the address?"
"2664 Pinecrest Dr.." Rita paled.
"What was that again?" Harry repeated it.
"What's the matter?"
"That's my little sisters house. I"ll be there in ten minutes." She hung up before the Captain could ask what she meant by little sister."
Chris kept quiet on the drive to Quinn's house. He knew Rita needed to just be near. She feared if she cried, she would completely lose it. "Are you up to this Sammy?"
"Yes. I can handle it. I just want to find out who did this to Quinn. I want to bring her killer down."
"We will Sam. We will." They got out of the car and walked into the mansion. The medical examiner Annick Andree was kneeled down beside Quinn's body. Rita gasped when she saw the lash marks and welts on the girl's back. Her face was swollen with bruises.
Annick spoke up. The injuries were probably caused by hitting and a baseball bat. The bash to the head was probably what killed her."
"Her mother." Everyone turned to look at Rita. "She told me that things were not going well at home but she never indicated that she was physically touched. But it is likely."
Chris agreed. "Let's put out an APB on her and we'll bring her in for questioning. What's her name again?"
"Shena Liviad." As they got back into the Jeep Cherokee, Rita turned to look at Chris. "That was too easy. Something's not right about all of this."
I was thinking the same thing Sam. It was too clean-cut. Everything was sort of laid out for us to find."
Rita lay awake that night as she thought over the whole situation. If her foster mother had beaten her, why hadn't she seen the signs? She was trained for these situations. It was her obligation to turn in a suspected child abuse case. Next to her, Chris pretended to sleep but he was too worried about his wife. He knew she was blaming herself but he also knew she would talk to him when she was ready. As if reading his mind, she spoke up. "Chris, I know you're awake. I need to talk."
"What is it sweetheart?"
"Sam, it's all my fault Quinn died isn't it? Why didn't I see the abuse?" She began sobbing as Chris held her tightly.
"It's not your fault. Abusers are good at hiding it. You couldn't have known." Rita nodded in understanding, feeling a little better because she knew Chris was right. From the nursery, Chris and Rita heard Amita crying. Chris began to get up. "Let me take care of her. You try and get some sleep." Rita agreed and closed her eyes. Chris walked into the nursery and found Amita staring up at her Winnie the Pooh mobile. "How's my sweet girl? Ya hungry? Ahhh....I thought so." he said as Amita hungrily began to drink her formula. Rita got up out of bed and watched the beautiful scene taking place. {I promise to protect you forever.} she thought to her self.