Chapter 108: Strategy and Sanctuary

Tuesday, April 10, 1984 (continued)

Elizabeth Crawford turned out to be a fairly attractive woman in her late 40s (at a guess). Yes, I could still turn on my mid-50s sense of attraction when called for.

She welcomed us to her office, and I handed Cammie a nominal $1 to give Elizabeth for the consultation, plus $1 for me. I also showed Elizabeth that I had plenty on hand to retain her. Cammie seemed startled that I had that much cash. Elizabeth didn’t, but we had talked money, after all. Plus, not that many minors had bank accounts they could control, so cash was probably a common form of payment for her when helping one.

Elizabeth gave us an agreement with her rates. Any fees she collected that weren’t used were to be returned after sixty days. We quickly signed. While we could technically void the contract, she’d keep payment for anything she’d already done. Besides, who starts a legal fight with a lawyer unless they really can’t help it?

After we’d signed, I went into my briefcase again and got out a pencil and paper, fumbled around a bit, and then sat up.

“First, if you would,” she said, turning to Cammie, “Tell me about your family life before this. Any issues, any complaints, any deprivation, negative comments — anything particularly negative or positive at all.”

Cammie ran through a bunch of things, none of which were bad, except for their persistent negative comments about lesbians and gays, which apparently amounted to far more in the way of slurs than I’d known. Not surprising, but disappointing.

After she’d finished, Elizabeth said, “So, it was consistently a hostile environment from the perspective of someone who’s a lesbian, but that’s it? Aside from that, you’re not really saying anything bad about them.”

Cammie nodded. “I’m not that serious a Christian either, so there’s that, but maybe that’s because of them. Aside from religion and sexuality, no, they were fine...”

She hesitated, then sniffled, and said, “I still ... I still love them. I just also hate them ... really, a lot, right now. Steve and I talked about it and ... it’s ... I always knew this might happen but I also never truly believed that they had it in them to drag me off bodily and take me someplace like this, no matter how often they mentioned it. Not as a threat, so much as that everyone who’s gay needed to go to a place like that and society would be doing them a favor if they were all dragged off and shown the error of their ways. Stuff like that. It feels like a betrayal, if a totally predictable and extremely telegraphed betrayal. And I feel stupid that I let myself believe it wouldn’t happen when ... when ... it o ... obviously was going to!”

She started crying a bit again. Not bad, but really crying.

Elizabeth offered Cammie a box of tissues, and said, “I understand. Take a minute and calm down, please. It’s fine. I know this is extremely hard.”

After a few minutes, Cammie said, “Okay. I’m good. Really.”

“Take a break whenever you need to,” she said, smiling at Cammie, “But, please, tell me what happened starting when things went wrong.”

Both Elizabeth and I took copious notes as Cammie talked. I felt as if I was flowing a particularly important debate round — all of these things needed to be clear in my mind, and Elizabeth undoubtedly was on the same page.

By the end of Cammie’s recap, I was blushing a bit. She kept referring to bits of our history, making it clear she knew I’d help and yet being surprised at the level of help.

Cammie herself made it through the whole thing without so much as another sniffle. Perhaps she’d burned most of that out of her system by now.

Elizabeth, meanwhile, was an interesting mix of sympathetic and stone-faced. She obviously sympathized with Cammie, and she was just as obviously quite upset about things.

Her first question wasn’t exactly a surprise, but it was close. “So, when you returned to your parents’ house, all you took were school belongings? Papers, notes, that sort of thing.”

“Steve wouldn’t even let me take the case where I store our debate evidence. Which sucks, but we’ve managed to keep it from getting messed up so far. I did take a few personal things, but all of them were gifts from people outside my family.”

She nodded. “Likely that’s overly cautious, but it’s good. They can’t claim you stole anything. I’ve seen parents try to play that card, and it can work. Now ... again, making sure: you directly asked them for clothing, while naked in a public place at one in the morning, and they refused?”

“Yes, I directly asked, and they refused unless I came back, which I’d made clear I was not going to do.”

She jotted down a few notes. “That ... that’s bad. For them, I mean. Clearly child endangerment. Cajoling you to come back is fine. Making it a choice between running away naked or returning ... not so fine.”

“That’s what I thought!” Cammie said, chuckling a bit.

Elizabeth bit her lip, making notes. “I can’t make them at fault for you risking injury in the fall, since that was your choice, but I can fault them on the clothing. The difference is that they had the right to detain you and control your movement, but they didn’t have the right to opt to endanger you simply because you were misbehaving — and I mean that from a legal standpoint. It’s the same for the car. Legally, I can’t fault them for dragging you into the car, but tying your hands to the seat belt is also child endangerment. In a wreck, that could affect how the seat belt works, or leave you trapped.”

She tapped her pen against the pad for a few seconds, then said, “When repeating this again — if you have to — don’t mention the tires unless specifically asked. That’s technically a crime on Steve’s part. Unlikely to be an issue, and understandable, but still. Besides that, this has...”

She hesitated, then said, “You’re clear that they said you would be unable to leave the place you were being taken when you turned eighteen?”

“What Dad said to me was that the only way anyone who’s staying there is transported away is by parents picking them up. They ‘don’t provide ride services,’ so my only option would be to walk or to wait. That’s what I was told. I felt like there was a clear implication that walking would be a very bad idea, but he didn’t really say that. Plus, there’s fencing, and I don’t think they would open the gate.”

“I’d consider sending someone walking back from an unknown location in rural Texas to another unknown location a bad idea, personally,” she said, with a small smile. “Most likely the average person would.”

“I would,” I said. “Not so much the distance as just ... where am I going, how far is it, what supplies can I take...”

She nodded. “Letting you leave with no water would be bad. Not to mention, you had no clothes. I’m sure they would provide clothes, but would you be allowed to take them?”

Cammie blushed and nodded. “Hadn’t thought of that.”

“And that may be immaterial for you. I have a dislike of those places. They skirt the law — and, I think, often break it — but they do it in ways for which they’re unlikely to be punished. In any case ... let’s get to the biggest question, which is ‘How do you want this to end up?’ Do you want anyone to be in trouble? Legal consequences? Just to be left alone — which may mean totally alone, cut off from family?”

Cammie bit her lip, then said, “The last one. That’s it. If they cut me off, that’s their choice. I’ll be okay. I have friends I can rely on, I have a generous scholarship starting in the fall, and ... I’ll be fine. It’ll suck, but I’ll be fine. If they screw up any of that, though — my graduation, my scholarship, whatever — then I’m not fine. I want to be left alone and for them to not interfere or try to drag me back or drag me off somewhere or ... whatever.”

“Then you’d be okay with freezing them out for at least a while? We have two possible paths. It’s quite unusual, but not impossible, for a judge to issue a restraining order against a parent. More likely, we would have to get DPRS — the Department of Protective and Regulatory Services, what most people call Child Protective Services — to remove you on the grounds of endangerment. That’s a nightmare for everyone, but it’s less of a nightmare than going to one of those places.”

Cammie sighed, nodding. “Not happy with the second option, but ... yeah.”

Elizabeth said, “Either will pretty much block any contact — including contact you initiate. I can see to what extent I can prevent interference with your school and your scholarship. That will probably take a second order. The first is the priority — once something’s in place, they can’t come after you with a missing persons’ report and have you brought back to their house, because they can’t come in contact with you.”

“That would be a huge relief!”

I nodded along. It would be. That would prevent all sorts of shell-game shenanigans. I hadn’t thought of a restraining order, but then I hadn’t thought of portraying their actions as ‘child endangerment.’ The same was true for getting DPRS involved. That would suck, in some ways, but it would also work.

“On the other hand...” Elizabeth said. “Even that level of legal action puts them in trouble. It’ll create a court record, it’s technically public, and so forth. If they were willing to sign papers allowing you to reside somewhere else, preventing them from interfering, and so forth...”

“That ... would be fine,” Cammie said, “As long as the agreement had teeth in it.”

“We can do that,” Elizabeth said. “A negotiated agreement has the benefit of being immediate, something they can’t contest, and we can ask for concessions we’d need multiple proceedings for otherwise.”

“Where do we go next?” I said.

“First, you decide you’re retaining me and we handle that,” she said, smiling.

“Good point!” I said. “Yes, we’re definitely retaining you.”

“Then I’ll need a deposit from each of you.”

We quickly discussed the likely number of hours, after which I handed Cammie $1000 to retain Elizabeth. She handed it to Elizabeth immediately. Then I handed Elizabeth $100 for me.

“Good! The first step, if we’re trying for a negotiated agreement, is for me to contact Cammie’s parents. At least the initial contact should come from me. Please don’t do anything until you talk with me. Under no circumstances should you talk to them, Cammie. If somehow you’re found and they’re dragging you off, scream for the police, then insist on being able to contact me.”

Cammie smiled. “I can do that.”

“Can she defend herself?” I said. “Meaning non-lethally? I have some deterrent spray.”

“I have some myself,” Cammie said. “It’s in my purse, which Steve let me grab. I couldn’t get to it when all this happened.”

“That ... well, fighting an assault charge is better than being stuck where we can’t find you. The odds of it amounting to anything are low. Last resort, but as a last resort, yes.”

“I have an idea to lower the odds,” I said. “Not surprisingly, I know plenty of people in Houston. If one of them books a room for Cammie, then not only do I not know where she is, but the booking name wouldn’t be Clarke or Marshall.”

She smiled. “That’s better than me doing it, which I would’ve at least considered.”

“And phoning?” Cammie said.

“I’d like you to confine it to only me this week,” Elizabeth said. “I know you’ll want to talk to people, and they’ll want to talk to you, but it’s possible that the number will get out. The odds of the police pulling phone records are very low given that you’ll have an attorney representing you and won’t be a ‘missing person,’ but I’d prefer to avoid the risk.”

“That stinks,” Cammie said, “but I get it, and I’ll behave.”

“Do we need anything else now?” Cammie said.

“No,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head. “I need to put together the initial documentation. I’m sure some questions will come up. Please plan on calling me tomorrow morning — I want you to get plenty of sleep if you can. We won’t be contacting them until tomorrow afternoon. Steve, I presume you’ll go back to school.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“They should have no way of knowing who helped Cammie, but they may guess. If they approach you, try to minimize hostility. You can refuse to answer, but don’t lie. If the police approach you, ask to call your attorney. You can call Kyle or me; we’ll call each other. As of right now, the only law you’ve broken — technically — is related to their car. They may accuse you of assisting a runaway, but Cammie isn’t a runaway.”

I nodded at that.

“She wasn’t a missing person yet — probably isn’t now — and everything else follows from that. There are plenty of things they might claim you did, but you didn’t. I don’t think I need to worry about you cracking under pressure...”

Cammie chuckled. “I think that’s very safe to say.”

I shrugged. “What she said.”

Elizabeth chuckled, too. “So, just stonewall. You have a right to call your parents until you’re eighteen — which won’t be until after Cammie’s whereabouts are solely her business — and you have the right to call an attorney. Some police will complain and cajole, but they know how this works.”

“I can do that,” I said.

“I need to ask this next part. Cammie, you have the means to stay in a safe place with adequate food, clothing, shelter, and so forth until you’re eighteen, correct?”

Cammie looked at me, and I nodded.

“Thanks to Steve, yes,” she said.

“Which means I need to ask if there’s any...”

“It’s a gift,” I said. “No expectations, no nothing. Now, if Cammie needed a job — a legal, proper, aboveboard job with a salary that would keep her going until college, I can also help with that, but that’s not where we are now.”

Cammie blushed, but didn’t say anything.

“We’re not there yet,” Elizabeth said, “But I know where that’s coming from, which tells me you’ve done your homework — which I had no doubt about in any case.”

“It’s there if and when. I also have an open offer from my parents for Cammie to live there as long as necessary, plus I know a very reliable person who owns a nearly empty house in Houston who might want someone to house-sit.”

Cammie blushed again, but also giggled.

“Should I ask?” Elizabeth said. “I sense a bit of a joke here.”

“Not a joke, so much as anyone questioning it might be embarrassed. It’s Curtis Richardson’s house.”

She blinked. “You know a Federal Circuit Judge?”

Then she chuckled, and said, “Of course, you do.”

“We both do,” Cammie said, grinning. “Our study group meets in his house.”

“My sister dated his son, and my grandfather was one of his professors,” I said.

“That ... could help,” she said. “Not legally, but connections are connections, and if I say that Judge Richardson would vouch for you, Miss Clarke...”

“He would, I’m sure,” Cammie said.

“That might open a few doors, or maybe just open them wider,” Elizabeth said.

“What should we do about school?” I said.

“I’ll call your school and ask them to freeze any action on Miss Clarke. That’s more of a favor than anything else. Forcing them to halt would be hard, but they can always slow-walk everything,” she said.

“Would it be okay if I spoke to Principal Riggs personally, giving him just a bit of context?” I said. “Nothing ... pejorative ... of course.”

“If you think it would help, yes, that’s fine,” she said.

“We’ve got a good working relationship,” I said. “He’ll listen to me.”

“Then, by all means,” she said.

She turned to Cammie, and said, “When you’re settled, please call and give me your hotel and room number. It’ll be privileged information, but there’s a reasonable chance that I’ll have to set up a welfare check for you. If we do have to do a welfare check, that’s what it’ll be — it will not be the police coming to get you.”

Cammie nodded. “I’m fine with that, of course. I get why the police would need to check.”

“That’s all I have right now. Tomorrow we’ll start putting things into motion. I’d prefer to give them a chance to back down first. Sometimes actually seeing the law move to stymie people makes them compromise, but sometimes it just makes them dig in.”