Read Online Acquired Motives (Dr. Sylvia Strange Book 2) by Sarah Lovett - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sarah Lovett
Ads: Link
you can't just take away Kevin's probation when he's cooperating." The woman was plain, sandy blonde and freckled. Her rangy body projected only nonsexual energy. Her hands were big for her arms, and her fingernails were manicured. Phlegmatic and languid, she was the motor opposite of Kevin. However controlled, her passion came through. And real distress altered her coarse features. "Kevin made a mistake, we don't argue that. But he needs another chance."
Jackie Madden knew what happened to kids who took a bad turn. As a clerical employee of the Department of Public Safety's state police, she spent her days entering data into the computerized National Crime Information Center, N.C.I.C. Her computer screen was filled with details of crimes committed by known criminals in every state—serial murderers, kidnappers, rapists. And most of those offenders had started their Criminal careers when they were adolescents. Like Kevin Chase.
Sylvia said, "That's not my decision. You both know, as part of the contractual agreements Kevin made with the courts, his probation officer is notified when he misses a session. I spoke with Frankie Reyes yesterday afternoon when Kevin didn't show up. This may affect his probation. That's all I can tell you."
"But he did call—" Jackie Madden cut her protest short and nodded her resignation. "I'll wait for him in the lobby."
When Sylvia was seated across from Kevin again, he said, "What did she want?"
"Jackie's concerned that your probation will be revoked. I don't know what your probation officer will decide, but you and I may need to process that possibility."
"I got here, didn't I?"
"No bullshit, Kevin." Sylvia's dark eyes flashed. "You're facing prison time. Is that getting through to your brain?"
"Yes, ma'am."
He was a well-fed calf. Moderately intelligent, an emotional runt, passive-aggressive. When he talked, his hands moved constantly, drawing pictures in the air. When he was silent, his fingers still fluttered, drummed, or curled into fists. A scar ran from his left elbow to his wrist; he said it was a memento of a motorcycle accident. His shoulder-length reddish hair was neatly layered and framed round features. Translucent blue eyes peered restlessly from a pink face marred by adolescent acne.
For an uncomfortable moment, an inner voice warned Sylvia she was missing signals. But unless Kevin Chase was an obvious danger to himself or someone else, Sylvia's job was to present the facts to Probation and Parole.
Kevin blurted out, "I just wanted to say it, you know, I'm sorry for missing and whatnot." Although he curled his lips into a smile, he did not relax his grip on the arms of the oversize chair. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Get here."
"Oh."
Ten minutes before the hour . It was time to end the session.
In the outer office, she watched as Jackie Madden ushered Kevin Chase toward the stairs. She was struck by their odd symbiotic connection.
When Sylvia was alone, she dialed Matt at the Department of Public Safety. The phone rang six times before someone answered. She didn't recognize the voice: "Matt's out, but try his pager."
Sylvia scanned the appointment book. Her afternoon was clear; she had already canceled a three-hour evaluation session. Her five o'clock client had canceled himself the previous afternoon when he was arrested on a parole violation.
She made the only intelligent decision: get out of the office and call Matt from her house. She notified her service that she had closed shop for the day. A stack of papers—psych tests that she needed to score—went into her briefcase, along with a paperback of Patrick O'Brian's Desolation Island , the fifth volume in a series she enjoyed for its heroes—a scrungy naturalist and a lusty sea captain.
She locked
Jackie Madden knew what happened to kids who took a bad turn. As a clerical employee of the Department of Public Safety's state police, she spent her days entering data into the computerized National Crime Information Center, N.C.I.C. Her computer screen was filled with details of crimes committed by known criminals in every state—serial murderers, kidnappers, rapists. And most of those offenders had started their Criminal careers when they were adolescents. Like Kevin Chase.
Sylvia said, "That's not my decision. You both know, as part of the contractual agreements Kevin made with the courts, his probation officer is notified when he misses a session. I spoke with Frankie Reyes yesterday afternoon when Kevin didn't show up. This may affect his probation. That's all I can tell you."
"But he did call—" Jackie Madden cut her protest short and nodded her resignation. "I'll wait for him in the lobby."
When Sylvia was seated across from Kevin again, he said, "What did she want?"
"Jackie's concerned that your probation will be revoked. I don't know what your probation officer will decide, but you and I may need to process that possibility."
"I got here, didn't I?"
"No bullshit, Kevin." Sylvia's dark eyes flashed. "You're facing prison time. Is that getting through to your brain?"
"Yes, ma'am."
He was a well-fed calf. Moderately intelligent, an emotional runt, passive-aggressive. When he talked, his hands moved constantly, drawing pictures in the air. When he was silent, his fingers still fluttered, drummed, or curled into fists. A scar ran from his left elbow to his wrist; he said it was a memento of a motorcycle accident. His shoulder-length reddish hair was neatly layered and framed round features. Translucent blue eyes peered restlessly from a pink face marred by adolescent acne.
For an uncomfortable moment, an inner voice warned Sylvia she was missing signals. But unless Kevin Chase was an obvious danger to himself or someone else, Sylvia's job was to present the facts to Probation and Parole.
Kevin blurted out, "I just wanted to say it, you know, I'm sorry for missing and whatnot." Although he curled his lips into a smile, he did not relax his grip on the arms of the oversize chair. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Get here."
"Oh."
Ten minutes before the hour . It was time to end the session.
In the outer office, she watched as Jackie Madden ushered Kevin Chase toward the stairs. She was struck by their odd symbiotic connection.
When Sylvia was alone, she dialed Matt at the Department of Public Safety. The phone rang six times before someone answered. She didn't recognize the voice: "Matt's out, but try his pager."
Sylvia scanned the appointment book. Her afternoon was clear; she had already canceled a three-hour evaluation session. Her five o'clock client had canceled himself the previous afternoon when he was arrested on a parole violation.
She made the only intelligent decision: get out of the office and call Matt from her house. She notified her service that she had closed shop for the day. A stack of papers—psych tests that she needed to score—went into her briefcase, along with a paperback of Patrick O'Brian's Desolation Island , the fifth volume in a series she enjoyed for its heroes—a scrungy naturalist and a lusty sea captain.
She locked
Similar Books
