Introduction: The year is 2076, not that is extremely important. The story takes place at the same time as Five Love Stories en Brochette; much of it at the same time as the last chapter of that story. It has been almost six years since that story was published here. In that story, Scott Adams is briefly mentioned in a couple of sentences near the beginning, and once again in the epilogue. Wren Phoenix thought it might be nice to know a bit more about Scotty Adams. I’m sorry Wren that it took so damn long to get around to it.

Phil and Joe Esterházy take charge. More and more evidence points to Elaine’s murder; however, the police are reluctant to do anything due to the evidence being only circumstantial. Then, Joe takes Scott to the school nurse.

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This work is copyrighted by the author and any publication or distribution without the written consent of the author is strictly prohibited. This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of the characters to persons living or dead is coincidental.

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Scott Free
 

Chapter 7

“Phil, you old reprobate, I haven’t heard from you since that meeting with the Chamber of Commerce. Shit, that has to have been at least two weeks. What’s up?”

“I need a favor. Did you have an employee by the name of Elaine Adams? Her son is a student of my son’s at Eureka High and her son is trying to locate her. She disappeared about two years ago; left her husband and son.”

“I’ve got the HR manager here. Let me ask him.”

Phil could hear a conversation going on in the background.

“Dr. Esterházy, Larry Foster, we don’t know what happened to Elaine. She’d asked for a transfer to the Willamette Plant. She said she wanted to get her and her kid away from her husband. They were fine with the transfer up there. We sent all her paper work up there. The only thing was she never showed up. We figured she found a better offer somewhere else.

“You say her son’s still here?”

“That’s right, he’s still living with his father,” Phil said. “We probably need to keep quiet about this for now. I’ll let you know if we need any more information.”

“Damn,” Phil said as he turned to Sylvia. They were sitting in his office in the Forestry Department Building. “Persi was probably right. The SOB killed her. She had asked for a job transfer to the Willamette plant. She was going to take Scott with her. Obviously, that never happened.”

“So what do we do?” Sylvia asked.

“We probably need to talk to the Sheriff’s Department. They’re the ones who have jurisdiction in our area; however, we don’t really know where he killed her, if he killed her. I think it’s more important the CPS gets Scott out of there. If his mother is alive, which I seriously doubt, we might eventually find her.

“Let’s tell Joe what we’ve found out. Since he’s the one that needs to keep after CPS. His comments are going to be the most credible.”

Joe was both happy and saddened by what his parents told him. It supported what Persi had expressed and what he’d felt from the moment he met Scott.

“Sheriff’s Office, how may I help you?”

“Mable, Joe Esterházy, is Sheriff John in?

“Yes, let me connect you. Are you trying to collect on your golf bet?

“Thanks for reminding me. Actually, this is a business matter.”

A brief interjection of some horrible on hold music gave Joe a few seconds to think over things.

“Hey Joe, what’s up? You still trying to collect on that bet? I think you should be disqualified on the basis that you’re getting pointers from a Golf Hall of Famer. There’s no way that a six handicapper is going to shoot a sixty-eight.”

“Dammit, John, I’m not a sandbagger. Mike gave me some good pointers, and everything clicked. I may never break seventy again. Look, I have something serious to talk about.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“If there was a murder committed up in the Butler Valley area, who would have jurisdiction?”

“We would. Why?”

Joe proceeded to outline the situation as they knew or suspected it to be.

“That’s pretty circumstantial. No one’s filed a missing person report. Jake doesn’t seem to be too concerned.”

“Of course he isn’t. He killed her and dumped her body somewhere. He doesn’t want anyone looking for her.

“The folks at the plywood mill said she was going to the Willamette Plant, and take her son with her. She never showed up, and her son his still here.”

“Joe, you’re going to have to come up with something more concrete before we can do anything. I know it sounds bad, but we need to have more to work on.

“Now, as far as the abuse allegations are concerned, I think you have a legitimate concern. I don’t know why CPS hasn’t contacted you. Let me see if I can stir them up. That’s a state office, but we have to connect with them fairly frequently. We frequently have to serve subpoenas in cases like this one.

“You’re going to have to prove abuse, and that may be difficult. Besides the kids statements made to you in private, what evidence do you have? How can you prove to a competent authority that the kid has been abused?”

“Suppose, we had a reason to take him to a doctor. Suppose I thought he was sick or injured. I could take him to the school nurse. I think Scott understands what we’re trying to do.

“I know, no suspect, he’s been injured. He favors his left hand, and his back hurts him at times. That might be enough.”

“Scott, would you mind if I had the nurse check out your hand? I noticed that you’re favoring it a bit,” Joe asked.

“It’s okay, really.”

“We need to get you away from your father. Did he have anything to do with how it got hurt?”

“Yes, sir,” Scott said hesitantly.

“Would you tell the nurse what happened? Remember, that’s privileged information. They’re not going to tell anyone what happened other than those people who need to know.

“Amy and I have talked about it, and we would love to have you live with us until we can find your mother.”

“He killed her.”

“What?”

“I think he killed her.”

“How do you know?”

“He got mad at me one night.” Scott thought back to that night when his father caught him in his mother’s dress. “He said he should have killed …. He didn’t say anything else. I think he was going to say he should have killed me when he killed my mother. School was in session, so he couldn’t make me disappear. I wasn’t there when he did it. I wanted to believe that she’d gone away, but I know better. I know he killed her.”

It was a simple matter to get Scott in to see the nurse. She came out of the examination room in less than five minutes. “Mr. Esterházy, we need to get him to a doctor right away. This is awful. They’re waiting for you at the ER.”

Five minutes later they were at the emergency room. The doctor took Scott into the consultation room, and five minutes later they were taking him for X-rays.

Twenty minutes later the X-rays were developed. “Joe,” the doctor said, “I’ve got to notify the police and CPS. Under no circumstances is he to be allowed to go back to his home.

“This is off the record, but I feel you have a good idea what’s been going on. His ribs have been broken several times – both sides. The fifth metacarpal of his left had a green stick break. It’s healing okay, but he may need therapy. The worst thing is his back. It’s mostly healed, but he has been whipped, or I should say caned. He may not be permanently scarred, but he’s a mess.

“Do you know why his father did this? There’s no question he did.”

“I have my suspicions, Avery.”

“His father caught him wearing his mother’s clothes. It started two years ago; right after his mother left. It didn’t take much to get him to say what happened, and I think he was relieved to admit it.

“I’ve called CPS, at least I left them a message.”

“Do you think there would be any problem if Amy and I took care of him? We already know we want to.”

“I’m going to call Judge Hardy. He’ll issue a restraining order and can grant temporary custody to you. There shouldn’t be any problem. I’ve done this before.

“Scott is very fond of you and what you’ve done for him. He told me he’d like to stay with you. I certainly don’t have any objections.

“Scott will need quite a bit of counselling. I’m not a psychiatrist; however, I think his issues go beyond cross dressing. Does that bother you?”

“Avery, did you ever read a book called Musetta’s Waltz?”

“Certainly, that’s a requirement in the human sexuality classes.”

“Musetta was my great-grandmother.”

“I had no idea.”

“Read it again, Mom and Dad are mentioned in it, and so am I. My second daughter is named Musetta. We will do everything possible to support Scott. This is something we feel very deeply about.”

An hour later Joe had the temporary custody order in his hand.

Scott had been sitting quietly in the waiting area while Joe had been talking to the doctor. He’d been playing games on his tablet, and had earlier emailed Jimmy and Diane about what had transpired.

He hadn’t paid much attention to the comings and goings.

“Come on Scott, it’s time to take you home,” Joe said.

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, you’re coming with me to your new home. You will never have to go to that other place again.”

Scott was silent for a moment; however, he was not able to hold back the tears of joy for long.

Amy and Musetta greeted Scott with warm hugs and took his hands as they brought him into their warm home. They’d already prepared the guest room for him, and earlier in the afternoon, Amy had made a quick trip to the mall to get some underwear, trousers and shirts. She didn’t have any problems with getting his sizes right. Although the shoes would have to wait

Scott was a bit in awe about everything, and it would probably take some time before it began to sink in. For the first time in more than two years he sat down to dinner, and when it was over was not hungry.

Jake Adams received an in-person notice that evening from Child Protective Services that Scott was being placed in temporary protective custody. The sheriff’s deputies who accompanied the CPS personnel had a warrant for Jake’s arrest. Needless to say, Jake was caught completely off guard.

Jake was released the next morning on $100,000 bond. His lawyer posted bail for him, and took him back to the trailer.

“Jake, you’re in deep shit, to put it mildly. We’ll have to look at things, but right now I think your best bet is to cop a plea. You might get away with ten years if you’re lucky.

“Don’t do anything to piss the authorities off, or you’re liable to be back in the slammer so fast your head will spin.”

“Thanks, Marty, I’ll just stay out here until this shit blows over.”

“This shit isn’t going to blow over. This is just the beginning. They’re going to look for your wife and get her to testify. I have a feeling your kid will tell them a lot more about what’s been going on. She’s been gone for only a little over two years. The statute of limitations isn’t even close to running out. Keep your nose clean, and they may not try to bring her in on this.

“No one likes a child abuser, and they are very confident that they have a good case against you. I don’t like child abusers either, but as your lawyer I will make sure you are treated legally and fairly.

“I have to go, but I will be giving you a call.”

Marty Thomas didn’t bother shaking his hand. Jake had called his old lawyer; however, he didn’t take criminal cases. He called Marty Thomas who was trying to make his name as a criminal lawyer. Marty would have his hands full, and there was no way in hell Jake Adams was going to escape this one.

Once inside, Jake went straight to the refrigerator. He lit a cigarette and turned on ‘Judge Jessica’. Twelve beers later he hollered for Scott to get him a beer.

“Goddammit, I said get me a beer.

“Where is that little shit? Fuck, that’s right; he ain’t here. The little faggot wasn’t worth a shit anyway. Good riddance; good riddance to both of you.”

Chapter 8

Getting used to not being abused was easy and difficult. He’d wake up at night shaking in terror, then realize he didn’t smell cigarette smoke. He knew he was safe, but he kept waiting for something to go wrong. It never would.

He’d done enough reading to suspect that his gender identity issues were not that unusual; that he had nothing to be ashamed of. However, how would the Esterházys take when he told them he wasn’t a boy; that he was a girl with ‘plumbing problems’? That was how he’d seen it described in several articles he’d read. The problem became partially resolved much sooner than he’d ever thought it would.

He’d finished his homework shortly after coming home, it was home wasn’t it, and asked Amy if there was anything he could do to help out.

“I think we’re in pretty good shape around here. Why don’t we go down to the barber and get you a haircut?”

The look of terror on Scott’s face was all that Amy needed to see to let her know that was something not to joke about.

“I’m sorry, Scott. That wasn’t very kind of me, at all. Come on,” she said as she led him back to the library where he’d been working on his homework.

“I know you’re old enough,” she said as she handed him a book she’d taken from the top shelf of the bookcase. She had to use the library ladder to reach it.

“Read this. I don’t think it will take you very long. I know you’re a fast reader. We’ll talk about it after dinner or when you finish it.”

Musetta’s Waltz was the title. That’s strange he thought recognizing the name as the same as Esterházys’ daughter. It took only the introduction to ensnare him. It took only the first chapter to make him realize they knew. They knew who he was. They knew his innermost secret, and it was okay.

It was a quiet dinner. It wasn’t the place to discuss the book. He retreated to the library where, after about an hour, he finished it. She had been Joe’s great grandmother. They loved her. It was okay, and now Amy was telling him it was okay. They knew who he was.

Amy and Joe were watching television in the family room and Stephen had been practicing the piano in the parlor. He wasn’t sure where Musetta was, and Annie was already in bed.

“How long have you known? Did the doctor tell you?”

“The doctor didn’t have to tell me,” Joe said. “I knew the first day I met you. That was one reason we were so worried about you. I knew my great grandmother for almost ten years. I knew her story fairly early on. Amy had met her only a couple of times, but she never knew about her until she was pregnant with Michael.

“My older sister is a psychiatrist specializing in gender studies. Her wife is an endocrinologist. They operate a clinic near San Francisco specializing in helping people with gender identity problems.”

“You want me to talk to them? I would like to.”

“You will get plenty of opportunities to talk to them; you’re family. The problem is they’re family. They’re too close to us. We’ll have to find someone else to help us through this. Right now the thing we want to do his help you through this no matter what you want to do, which direction, if any, you need to go. We are here to help you and protect you. We love you,” Amy said with a conviction that let Scott know he had all the support he would ever need.

Later that night he sent an email to Diane. He knew it would be a while before she read it as there was a nine hour time difference. Diane and Jimmy were already aware that he’d moved in with the Esterházys. He hadn’t given them all the details; however, he had gathered that they were more aware of the abuse he’d suffered than he’d thought. He asked Diane who she thought he was. “I’m serious about this,” he said. “Things are happening that I hadn’t expected. I found out tonight that I’m not as an unknown as I thought I was. Who do you (and Jimmy) see when we are together? Don’t worry, you may be totally honest. I need to know.”

The message was waiting for him the next morning. Diane had written it, but Scott had a feeling Jimmy was looking over her shoulder when she did. “We’ve thought for a long time that you were a wonderful, sensitive, horribly abused person. We were so afraid for you. When your mother left you, and we don’t understand why, we were very concerned for you, but we didn’t know what to do. We should have been stronger for you. We will be back in a few weeks. We would like to know what your real name is when we visit you at your new home.”

That was all it took to make up Scott’s mind. There was no looking back, and he knew he had the support he needed. The problem that he wasn’t exactly sure how to get started beyond what he’d already done. The problem was also a legal one. He knew the legal wheels were turning. The Esterházys were his guardians, not his parents. He was certain that he’d never return to his father; however, there was no absolute certainty where he’d be going when this mess got straightened out.

“Goddamn fucking queers,” Jake said as he drove down the dirt road leading to the trailer. “Well, it got exactly what it deserved. I hope I broke its nose. I probably did. There sure as shit was a lot of blood. There ought to be a law against them queers looking like a woman.”

Jake wasn’t that drunk that he couldn’t drive. He’d decided to look elsewhere for the prostitutes as the ones he usually found didn’t seem to be interested in letting him fuck them in spite of the money he waved at them. He’d heard somewhere that there was an interesting place in Arcata. He hadn’t been there in a while. The place was a couple of blocks off the square. It was a bit different than the other places he’d been to in the past. The lighting was subdued, and there weren’t many smokers. The décor was different, too. He couldn’t see a hint of country western, logging or fishing.

A couple of taps for draft beer were at the bar, but most of the clientele were drinking wine or mixed drinks. At least they had Olympia, he thought. There weren’t that many women around, and he was having trouble trying to figure out if any of them were prostitutes. Fortunately, that decision was made for him.

“Hey, big boy, would you buy a girl a drink?”

She was blonde and had big hair. Her low cut top showed an ample cleavage. Her makeup was a bit overdone, but Jake wouldn’t have noticed unless someone had pointed it out to him.

She was drinking margaritas, and as she sipped her second one she suggested that they go elsewhere to continue to party. They settled on a price, and Jake followed her to a small duplex a few blocks away.

“Oh, I like hairy men. You are so masculine.” She started to take off his clothes, complimenting him on his masculinity. He’d already taken off her blouse and bra, and had been fondling her large, hard breasts and small nipples. He was naked when she removed her panties and gaff. He had not been prepared for the semi-erect five-inch penis.

His rage consumed him, and luckily, after knocking her to her the floor with a blow to her face, he couldn’t get dressed fast enough to get out of there. He never realized his wallet was lying on the dresser where he’d put it after paying her a hundred dollars.

She waited until she was sure he was gone before she got up and called the police.

An interesting thing about California is the interesting variety of plant life, wildlife, and geology. The Biology and Geology classes were taking a combined field trip to the Big Lagoon area and Prairie Creek to the north of the county. Much of this area was part of Redwood National Park. Joe’s interest in the area was to show how the coastal currents contributed to the development of the lagoons, and how the lagoons affected the ecology of the area.

They hiked down from the parking area along Highway 101 to the north end of the lagoon. Joe had the class stop at the edge of the drop to the water about twenty feet below. Unlike the thundering surf beyond the gravel spit, the lagoon was smooth and clear.

“Oh, look,” one of the students shouted, “there’s a shark.”

The silhouette of a large fish was easily seen moving deliberately along several feet below the surface. The fish was easily six feet long. “That fish is definitely not a shark,” Joe said. “However, it is a very interesting fish. It is anadromous and we talked about that term in biology. You remember that term? At least the Biology students should. There will be a five point bonus on this week’s exam if you can tell me what that fish is.” Joe knew it was a Green Sturgeon. It was the smaller cousin to the White Sturgeon that could easily grow to twice that length. He’d caught and released them in the past. The one below them that was swimming out of sight probably weighed close to 200 pounds. It would be a good research project for the students.

After a walk down the gravel and sand spit they returned to the bus to head north to Prairie Creek. The highlight of the visit was seeing a herd of about 100 Roosevelt Elk, the largest of the North American elks. The bulls, some probably weighing over a thousand pounds, were in velvet and relatively docile. That would change over the next few months.

From there they took a short walk to see the “Big Tree”. It was over 300’ feet tall and over 21 feet in diameter. While looking at the tree, Joe received a call on his cell phone.

They could see the smoke as they drove down the grade of Butler Valley Road towards the turn off to Jake Adam’s home. The plume increased in intensity as they turned to the north on the dirt track. There was no question that there was a significant fire as they neared the trailer. The sheriff’s deputies called the Kneeland Volunteer Fire Department; however, there wasn’t much they could do other than prevent the spread of the fire to the surrounding area. They succeeding in doing that.

By the time there was only a steaming and smoking rubble, the firemen pushed the front door and frame aside. They found Jake Adam’s body just inside where the door had been. The only place that was not burned was below his body. He’d probably been trying to get out but was overcome by the smoke. There was a patch of unburned carpet that roughly matched the silhouette of his body. A partially filled can of beer was clutched in his hand. He’d fallen on top of it. Forensics would indicate the fire had started in the vicinity of a lounge chair, probably from a dropped cigarette.

The sheriff’s deputies remained until the county coroner took Jake's corpse to the morgue. There was no longer any reason to arrest Jake Adams.

Joe made sure that all the students were picked up or on their way home before he closed the classroom. Scott knew something had happened as soon as Joe had gotten off the phone while they were looking at the “Big Tree”. He wasn’t sure whether it was bad or good.

“Scott,” he said after they got in the car, “your father is dead. He died in a fire that burned up the trailer. There wasn’t anything they could do.

“The deputy sheriffs were going to arrest him for battery. He attacked a prostitute last night in Arcata. The place was on fire when they got there.”

Scott barely reacted. “I think that’s good. I think he got off easy, though.

“It’s over, isn’t it? Do you think that you and Amy could adopt me? I would very much like to be able to call you Mom and Dad.”

A major source of problems in Scott’s life is gone; however, there is still the question of what happened to his mother. Of course, we really know. We just need some closure. Then, there is the rest of Scott’s life to think about.